Quoted By:
"I accept your bet, Laerd Cumhaill."
"Excellent! Then-"
"And I raise the stakes."
"What?"
With a flourish Jet smacked his own chest and proudly declared his intent.
"I wager my very soul! If you beat me I become your property! But if I win, you will owe me any one favor of my choosing!"
"What kind of fool dost thou take me for? You have no soul to wager as the pawn of the Demon Princes."
"Guess again. My soul is my own Laerd. Now do you accept MY challenge? Or are you too much of a coward to contend with me?"
The Raksha flashed a smile, letting his needle-like glass teeth show for the first time and he pulled out a featureless, reflective mask out of its robe before donning it.
"Then have at thee!"
His body erupted in a chiaroscuro pillar of dark and light essence, the pressure of which whipped up rainbow winds all throughout the magical kingdom. Even Jet felt himself pushed back by the display.
"That's an anima banner! What the hell?"
"Shit! A nishkriya mask! This was a mistake! Jet! Guard! Quick!"
The fae held out its feathery blade horizontally before pulling it back and throwing out a slash in front of himself. Jet only barely saw the attack coming, and were his joints not unnaturally flexible he never could've bent so far backwards to avoid it. Even then the slash managed to scratch the bridge of his nose just before he could bend out of the way. Now bent backwards he could see the extent of the destruction that was wrought. The trees, towers, windmills and even the clouds in the path of the attack were parted. Where presumably the edge of the Freehold laid was a gaping, rainbow colored wound in the sky. Jet felt shaken as Markolab tried to explain the situation to him. Nishkriya was the shinma of conflict, violence and destruction. So long as the mask was donned the fae relinquished its own identity, becoming an avatar of pure destruction. This Raksha may have been playing lord until now, but secretly he was waiting for his "villain" to show up so it may destroy it in glorious combat.
But there was something strange about the whole situation. Despite faced with such a destructive force Jet did not feel an ounce of fear. Far from it. His spine uncurled as he straightened his back and with a swipe of his thumb he wiped the drop of blood off his cheek. He was grinning from ear to ear.
"Markolab."
"Yes?"
"Is this Freehold sealed from the outside world?"
"Yes."
"And the mortals in here-"
"Are all lost causes. Why?"
"Just checking."
Though the wound on him had already closed, it still stung. The pain of it made him giddy with anticipation. For the first time since his exaltation he had nobody near him, and an excuse to no longer hold himself back. Slowly the chains that he placed on himself years ago, nay, in childhood started falling one by one. And using the pain inflicted on him as a conduit, he activated the Infernal Monster style.
"Retribution... will follow!"
