The RED MYRE drew whorls through the smoke--lightning fast, and even at well beyond human strength Krota barely managed half a step aside just before the twisting maelstrom crashed into his form.
Clothed in liquid sun, the axe-man flew from the force--engulfed in the MYRE as it splashed into the barrier and spilled across his chest, spat out tongues of roiling flame and energy to lick the forest ablaze as he made landfall with an earth-shattering impact.
Can't win like this, Krota thought as he rose, not like this.
The MYRE clung to him, ate at what remained of his barrier while he brought the Tooth near, and with a flick of his wrist cast aside the infected veil. At range regarded his opponent once more, and held the situation tensely.
Fleeting as it were, the veil held at least a glancing blow from the MYRE. Worse, assaults at comfortable range allow him to summon the power to answer my might directly. Certainly formidable with magicks, yet still scrawny and weathered with age.
Krota planted the axe into its sheath at his back, clothed himself with another veil as he realized had he not done so earlier...he'd be free-floating molecules in the atmosphere.
He lowered his stance, a knee to the ground with the other foot planted firm, with a flat sturdy palm aimed square at the crimson knight. Whose steps, I wonder, are more shallow at less adequate range?
With all the strength in his leg, Krota cannoned forth in a lancing strike--propelled to the very limit of sub-sonic flight with such force that his blade of a palm pierced a great bulk of the air, the rest compressed against his veil and bulldozed aside.
The axe-man was upon his opponent in a flash, and with a forward thrust of his striking flat palm detonated a sonic boom at his fingertips, almost certain to spear through the knight in an instant.