Welcome to Gaia! ::

The gates of the north opened with a fanfare of steel scraping on steel, the hinges crying out in resistance to the motion about them. In the midst of the rising dust disturbed by the passing of the gates one not unlike the son of God Almighty could be seen stepping forth. His garb was a white tunic of humble design with a golden girdle about his torso yet hidden with wrappings of jet. Several pouches around his midsection held various weapons and strips of paper while what looked to be a cross was strapped to his back, the blade and the crosspiece of said cross extending behind his neck while the hilt was kept hanging below. From either side of the blade great wings stretched outwards, hardly moving an inch as the feathers spread around him in a swirling breeze that hardly existed.

Locks of dun danced about the face of the man, obscuring eyes like the sprawling cerulean seas as he looked out across the arena. While the name of the man may be taken as the son of the Almighty, features were wrong, the resemblance only remaining when viewed at a distance. There was a certain air about him, as if the name was a misnomer, but also held a grain of truth, as if he believed he was Jesus and had enough faith in that fact that such a belief had sparked something greater.

With the blade still resting upon his back he begins to advance towards his opponent. As the two are still on opposing sides of the arena he won't be able to meet with him yet. As such he begins to focus, flows of divine will and personal life force beginning to stir within him. Two throwing knives, as opposed to kunai, are slipped from his belt in one hand while a slip of paper emerges into the light in his left hand. A glow begins to suffuse his eyes as the divine will and energies within his body focus around his brow.

As he advances one of the knives is set to his skull, a wince of pain flitting over his features as blood trickles down from his forehead where his hairline starts. The knife dissolves as divine will and his life force take hold of it, drawing it into his body to disperse through him and create a bladed crown around his head that seems to dig into his scalp. Small lines of blood can be seen appearing about his forehead with the larger one sliding down past his brow to drip down the left side of his nose. With his eyes now glowing with a steady golden light he would be granted better visual accuity, able to discern clones, shadows, and illusions from the real entity without fault by the grace of God.

The glow about his eyes began to spark a chain reaction that would spread across his skin in the pattern of golden feathers dancing across his flesh. Gossamer strings of coalesced life force began to dance in the air around Jesus, one slipping between his fingers to intertwine with the throwing knife he held. It would remain idle for but a single moment more before the nin's features blurred and the knife was thrown at his opponent's chest. Something about the blade, besides the link back to Jesus, made it seem highly irregular. It was almost as if a sort of synergy existed within the Lord's own son and the instruments he had produced today.

When the lightning began surging through the ground and arcing towards Jesus he performed a simple maneuver to dodge. He flew upwards and out of the path. The single knife being returned would whip back behind Jesus much faster than anticipated and swing back towards Evnal with greater force than the original throw. Furthermore, it would seem that attempts to corrupt his life force or any of the abilities empowered by his divine grace would meet a barrier of sorts. In exchange for a resistance against the effect scars would become apparently on his hands, the 'crown of thorns' digging into his scalp with greater intensity. The small golden feathers continued to fan out over his skin as he focused his energies, the gossamer strands of light and energy around him writhing as he did so.

Those strands around Jesus unconnected to anything but his own force of will rshed forth and grabbed the single blade. Blood began to soak his hair as resistance was given to the taint trying to unravel his threads, but the resistance would be in vain. It was not the sith that won the small exchange, but Jesus instead as the single knife split from one into a storm, gossamer threads linking them all to their master. A total of fourty knives floated around Jesus as the now multiplied threads weaved an intricate pattern in the air around him. With a single wave of his hand the whole, each smaller than the original, were launched at the sith.