It was no secret that the rune mage’s usage of words was at excellence. Even the use of a few words can spark a variety of topics to discuss. A great conversationalist, he always was. And the contrast of ther socialization skills is gargantuan. Not that such topics were important anyway. Not for this moment.
His voice echoed cranial walls, attempting to provoke the manifestation of lightning into launching an attack on the other. Attacking him without the formation of a plan wasn’t a considerable option to take. One thing for sure is that Laxus’ skillset and abilities when it comes to combat, were untouchable. He wasn’t the best, nor the most accomplished either. But he doesn’t own a grand reputation for nothing. In fact, he was known for his supreme prowess, but that doesn’t come alone. Intelligence plays a huge role in such play. Whilst the dragon slayer of the second generation wasn’t the epitome of wisdom, he was still smart enough to get himself to the level where he stands now. And overtly, climbing higher.
He was also able to train the Raijin Tribe up to his liking, up to the level he wanted them to be. Training sessions raging from hand-to-hand combat to demonstrating their magical abilities. He was already impressed by them when he first fought them during his adolescence, so his anticipations stood in a high pedestal. All three of them were unique. Every single one of them had their own abilities which stood out from the rest of those who belong in Fairy Tail. Or so, that was Laxus’ opinion on that matter. And Freed was no exception. In fact, his rune magic is confoundedly potent; enough to rival him at certain points.
But will that be enough? Who knows.
Identical hues of orange widened the moment he noticed the other individual charging towards him. Ineluctable, this was. He could also acknowledge the obscurity that engulfed the other, layered with madness, as he was ready to harm his former comrade. Perhaps he snapped and he seemed to be unable to comprehend with the current circumstance, indicating losing sight of what’s bound to transpire. Or so, Laxus believed.
So be it. He didn’t travel all this way to share a few mere words of malice with the rune mage. He prepared himself, and mostly mentally, to pound his fists into the other’s body, bringing him back to reality. Because what was Freed living was a lie. A horrible lie, reminiscent of a nightmare. One that the Thunder God would put it at end.
Due to his quick reflexes, he found it easy to dodge. A few yellow sparks appeared around his body, soon to multiply and consequently his dinstictive magic would show up— allowing his existence to take the shape of a lightning bolt. In a moment thereupon, he disappeared from where he was standing, only to land a in a short distance behind the other man. He considered on dropping his arrogant attitude and wearing nothing but sternness. And seemingly that was the right choice. Now, musculine features divulged nothing but seriousness, laced with danger, soon to be accompanied by a deep voice.
❛ —- How careless of you… ❜
With those words a set of thick fingers curled into a ferocious fist, bathed with potent lightning magic, now fully charged towards the other, ready to make contact with Freed’s back.
When his deadly blade slashed nothing but the air filled sparking with tension, he knew that he had committed mistake. Similar to how blazing orange eyes of his former comrade and dear friend had widened a mere moment before, his one visible eye of turquoise displayed a feeling that could be recognized as surprised realization. He had without doubt charged forward too quickly, though what was adding to the irritatation that kept on growing and growing within him was the fact that he had permitted Laxus to tempt him into charging towards him as the first one to act.
Fine, so be it. There was no going back, and he was just as prepared to showcase his power in threatening, harming form with the difference that no mental preparation was needed in his own case.
His heart, it was numb, or so one would assume. A heart didn't only contain the positive emotions and vibes, but the less pleasant ones as well. Any sign of irritation, of wrath, of pleasure when tormenting his enemies... every single one of these hinted the existence of emotions, and a working heart. It was merely misguided, in a wrong place. It was concealed by the shadows that had claimed his very existence.
But it was there, and beating.
Freed spluttered an audible breath, right hand holding his sword in a tight grip and his left curled into a fist. His knuckles had turned white from how much firm strength was flowing through the grasps and the look settled in his eye seemed hardly human. It mirrored the inward madness that drove him on to finish what he had just begun on his own terms. Speech belonged to one of his specialties, however he was tired of talking right now. No more mocking conversation, only violence.
After spitting it out in rage the word was still echoeing in his mind, connected with the very image of Laxus Dreyar. It was no astonishment that the lightning dragon slayer had been able to dodge his mindless attack with ease. No matter the emotion of blind loathing, he was still highly aware of WHO he was involving himself in a very serious battle with.
This was no sparring, no fight to test out limits. This might as well be about life and death (if it was to come down to it, would he really be able to dish out the final blow, though?) and with Laxus he had chosen the toughest opponent he was aware of. Such moments, they felt so far in the past and so dusty; moments of training together with the blond mage, moments of improvement and quite entertaining and fruitful fights. Nobody else knew his techniques better than Laxus or his former team mates... And just like this, there was nobody who knew Laxus' techniques better than him or the likes of Evergreen and Bixlow.
When had their last fought each other one on one? It had been so long, and even longer regarding the time they had fought each other with almost no restraints. This time, there was absolutely no limit at all. His most dangerous condition. Ruthless, uncontrolled - he was the dark.
He was LETHALITY in its highest form.
Freed whirled around where his piercing gaze fell right onto the taller male. He processed the sound of his vox, respiration working hard in both the ire and strange anticipation he was experiencing and just in time he moved, bringing his blade into a horizontal position in order to block the blow layered with nothing but pure power.
Clenching his teeth he held against it, looking Laxus right in the eye as fist met the side of his blade. By a fraction of an inch the other would have been successful at landing a hard punch to his back. His deep vox should be shaking with the rage that was claiming his existence. It didn't. Instead there was a venomous calm in his growl, mismatching his body language.
"You shouldn't have come here."
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