Bro, I'm not an Undead!

Edagon had been prepped for a fierce battle. The whole of Aigas had been, in fact.

While Benzard had been warped to the Empyrean Bosom, Sause remained, making sure everything was in order. He also refused to be taken to safety, after all, he was waiting for something – judgement or perhaps closure.

Edagon was a continent that could never truly be destroyed unless Aigas as a whole was annihilated. It was a sacred land that harboured the secret as to why Aigas was a Rich world.

After the chaotic battle between Replicus and Caxellac, it had healed, even though the damage it had taken was truly disastrous. And now, it had been reinforced in order to be able to handle more punishment than that previous better could ever dish out, as was Opungale, Feinheath, and the oceans.

"I better not get caught in the crossfire, ahaha," Sause said and he slowly drew back from Fulgardt and Skullius.

The Immoral snorted. "Just so you know, after I'm done with this brat, I'm going to kill you."

Sause shrugged.

"I'd rather you do it now, Fulgardt." He laughed so loud that the ground shook. "You always were a bit petty. Make sure you don't lose, otherwise I won't let you live it down. Well, if you are still alive afterwards, that is, ahaha."

The giant vanished at once.

Fulgardt managed a small smile. He scratched his neck.

"You really were desperate for this weren't you? I'm quite surprised that Sausifillis decided to join you. I imagined his interests laid with his own interests or the good of Aigas, not yours."

"Well, if that surprised you, I can't wait to see the look on your face when I show you all the gifts I've prepared," said Skullius and his Amras began surging.

Fulgardt nodded. "Ah, of course. The trump cards. That might be the one thing you truly learned from me." His cloak started to decrease in size and tease some form of armour underneath. It took on a black hue – to no one's surprise – but reflected light like glass. It wrapped around Fulgardt's arms to the wrist, leaving his hands bare. "What do you have planned for me? A new Apostle? A tamed Corrupted Deity? Some nebulous tool of favour Serenity gave you? Ah! Of course. You must have Contract giving you a beautiful set of benefits, right?"

Skullius narrowed his eyes.

"Who knows?" The [Entropy's Harmonising Nimbus] started to recede from his body, turning so faint it was barely visible. Skullius was adorned in a suit of armour that took on a dark scarlet hue. It was a memento, or perhaps a shadow of an old suit of armour he'd once worn while experiencing a breakthrough in his powers. The suit of armour was tight-fitting, with a high steel collar. It snuggly wrapped around all four of his arms and hands perfectly without restricting any of their movements.

Naturally, a Realm Rank Treasure that adopted any appearance its master desired had to be able to do at least this much.

"What about you, Fulgardt?" Skullius said. "Did Rias fashion something powerful for you with the Imagining Technique? Something that can cut through my Broader Existence directly, for instance? Hmm. That's tricky to think about. How do you plan to kill me when the Tie of Exchange you made forbids you from doing that?" He laughed. "Wait. Is that why you wanted to kill Boron and Suzamete first?"

Fulgardt grinned. "Who knows? If you want to be lucid enough to figure out how I do it, you better not hold back. Why don't you start with that freakish power you teased before?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sockethole. You're going to have to give me a good reason to pull that out," said Skullius and he adopted a fighting stance he'd never used before.

His upper arms extended forward, the hands on each poised as though to snatch something from the air at any given moment. His lower left arm was a knife hand, and the right was fist, both aimed at Fulgardt.

Lowering his centre of gravity, Skullius made his murderous intent rage.

"Oh? We're doing this now?" said Fulgardt, amused.

"I couldn't really engage you in hand-to-hand combat last time since you were hellbent on cutting me from a distance while letting the Stolen Angel copy my physique. I presume you're in a more cultured form now, right?"

That garnered a laugh from the Immoral. For a moment, it looked like he was more than a little excited to fight the Warmoth now. Or at least to see how long he could endure.

A thin film of jarring darkness covered Fulgardt as he raised his arms. Both his hands, their fingers curled, aligned with his temple, and he placed his right foot in front of his left. His stance reeked of lethality, and Skullius didn't miss it.

Indeed, Skullius had learned some interesting techniques during his time in the Timemould Mirror Box. The Stark Troops might have benefitted from that experience more than him, but he did pick up few things from those of them that aspired to be competent Warriors – Form Users.

The Immoral and the Hybrid Warmoth paused while maintaining their stances for ten seconds.

The air seemed to rush away, frightened.

Something truly unfathomable was about to unfold.

"Come," said Fulgardt.

Skullius heeded without a second thought. He vanished in the next instance.

He was before Fulgardt in a blink, his upper right hand snaking towards the Immoral's throat as though to stab it while his left rushed to restrain Fulgardt's right wrist.

But the Immoral was aware.

To Skullius' surprise, Fulgardt's knee shot up quicker than light and struck both his wrists in a flash, diverting Skullius' attacks. Before the Hybrid's next move, Fulgardt had turned into a blur and advanced, getting intimately close. His right elbow smashed into the side of Skullius' head before his fist, livid with Amras, did the same less than a breath later. When Skullius careened from the force of the blow, he received another knee in the face.

…But not before he launched a clean straight punch into Fulgardt's gut.

Both fighters were send staggering a few steps back.

Neither had taken damage, but Edagon was already groaning, cracks forming while pebbles and dust suspended in the air.

Fulgardt smiled.

'Hoo. The brat has a powerful Immortal Physique. It'd take something above the Realm Rank to endure my strikes entirely,' he thought. 'And that blow just now. His Amras is not too bad. I wager it's Sage Affluent at least.'

Skullius, after recovering his stance, also appraised the Immoral.

'He's dangerous,' he thought. 'If I hadn't received those Immortal Physiques from JOISEN ANTERRAS and TITEMIUS, I don't think I would have received those blows without taking lethal damage. On the flip side, I can't land damage on Fulgardt at all. What is that coat of darkness around him? Did it absorb the power behind my punch?'

Both combatants knew it was useless to try and discern the other's abilities using the guidance field. The Immoral was good at tempering it, and Skullius suspected that somehow, some way, he had gotten one of his own.

Be that as it may though, neither was going to back down.

Hands – seasoned, practised hands – would be thrown this night.

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[Author's Note]

Next chapter's title, 'Catch These Hands!'