Ottar (4)

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Thin Crust

Cracker Crust

Thick Crust

Flatbread Crust

Stuffed Crust

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(General POV)

If one were to describe the appearance of the southern forests of the 18th floor at this point, 'wasteland' would have probably been the best word at the moment. For about half a kilometre around was just ash, soot, char and every other word that meant carbon dust which emerged after a fire.

All the tree trunks that had been laying around in the area were completely disintegrated. Thick clouds of smoke hung around as sparks and embers floated down to the ground after being made airborne after the explosions. The smell of burnt wood and greenery was overwhelming to say the least.

The damage was so extensive, one would probably prefer not to even step a single foot into that patch of land out of fear they may catch alight themselves. But what was most notable was the new giant crater that about 30 feet in diameter which was completely encompassed by the thickest smoke cloud.

Ottar stood up a bit shakily as he blew out smoke from his lungs, his ears ringing and his eyes a bit blurry. Looking around himself, he found his two weapons lying on the ground. Or what remained of them. The handles and the bases of the blades were barely intact. But as his eyes travelled further up their lengths, he found that they didn't even have a top half.

They'd been completely melted.

Inspecting himself he found to his surprise that his armour had been destroyed, and the top he'd been wearing was torn completely to shreds, revealing his toned and muscular proportions. What remained of his gloves were the bands at the wrists and he cracked his fingers, the cartilage popping as flakes of damaged skin fell from his palms.

As the part of his body that had made direct contact with the small sun, they were the part most affected. Angry red burns glared right back at him and although it did not hurt him much due to his high pain tolerance as a higher level adventurer, it still surprised him how much damage Lyze had been able to inflict.

Freya never expressed interest in anybody that wasn't special or didn't promise much. Hence why he already knew to expect a lot more from the boy than he would from other level 2s. But this went beyond expectations. He'd encountered level fives that hadn't been able to put a scratch on him, magically or otherwise.

The fact that Lyze had accomplished this at the level he was at spoke volumes of the absolutely monstrous talent he possessed. It was a kind of talent that Ottar had only seen once before, in the form of a certain silver haired battle mage who hated loud noises...

The Boaz was still FAR from unleashing his true might against Lyze. But even with that certainty, Ottar couldn't help but shiver a little as he began to realize exactly what his Lady was seeing in the boy. Ottar could obviously not see souls like his mistress could but he'd spent enough time with her to estimate what he would receive from those she set her eyes on.

THIS however was far beyond anything he'd carried out for her before. That moment the golden sun had descended upon him, Ottar felt something even greater descending upon him. A bright yet silent promise of something he could not perceive properly, something which danced on the edge of his senses but enough for him to realize that it was absolutely terrifying whatever it was, so absurdly powerful that for a single moment, Ottar felt an emotion he would never have thought he'd feel because of a level 2.

Fear.

What mortals feared more than anything else no matter how powerful they were was the unknown. Ottar was no different and while he was usually comfortable with not being able to physically see Freya's visions, now he really wished he could. Because whatever he'd sensed, whatever had gone as quickly as it arrived, was something that didn't feel as if it should even EXIST.

And it all fell on the shoulders of a little boy.

Ottar blinked as he tried to realign his five senses and recover from the disorientation when the hot air around him suddenly became cold. Ottar did not feel the fear, but somehow he could tell that the air had filled with a sense of dread, something sinister and unwelcoming which came from a particular direction.

The direction he'd last seen Lyze in.

Something came flying through the smoke cloud so fast, it actually punched a hole through it instead of blowing the cloud away with its speed. Before Ottar could react, the blur flew past him and something sharp cut across his face. No blood fell, because immediately a burning harsh sensation filled the wound causing him to shout in pain and jump back while clutching his right eye.

Ottar stumbled back and fell on his rear as he grasped his face with both hands, the burning intensifying with each moment to unbearable degrees. He frantically looked up to see the blur, whose identity he'd guessed at this point, landed on the ground about a couple of metres away.

Lyze was crouched in a near kneeling position, Libur held out in front of him as the boy smirked in triumph. Ottar however noticed something very different with the boy now. Wisps of a dark substance that seemed unsure whether to be a liquid or a gas seemed to roll off the boy's body, and the air became colder as Ottar felt a purely sinister aura radiate from the small figure.

But that was not what held most of his attention. It was the abnormally sharp sword in Lyze's hands that was different. Crackling around it was a phenomenon Ottar had seen once before but not in person. Being in close proximity with it however revealed just how unholy it was; a flame blacker than the blackest night which also seem to emit some sort of purple miasma coated the sword, drowning out the usual silver sheen.

Ottar put his twos together, and realized exactly the cause of the burning sensation on his face which felt like it was roasting his eyeball and getting worse with every second that went by.

"You know, I really don't like using this form, or this fire." Lyze said as he remained with his back turned to Ottar. "I feel like the fire itself is especially a massive cheat. Because without the proper protections in place, and the correct type of healing magic available to employ, it is simply impossible to escape being harmed by this flame."

"What have you done to me?" Ottar asked confusedly.

Lyze turned around, revealing the true extent of what was different about him. The strange substance (which unknown to Ottar was Darkness) seemed to rise from his body like steam, but there was one place where it actually appeared on his body. Near to Lyze's temple was a strange swirling emblem, the Lesser Demon Mark, the common mark of the Demon clan. Lyze held up the sword in his hand wreathed in unholy fire.

"I just touched you with my Hellblaze." Lyze said before he stretched his arms out. "A fire so hot and powerful, not even immortals are spared from the eternal reminders of their suffering under this flame."

"What do you mean?"

Lyze took something out of his hammer space and tossed it at Ottar. Ottar caught it with one hand and found it to be a mirror. Seeing Lyze gesture at him, Ottar lifted it to his own face and removed the hand covering the spot where there was a burning sensation.

Ottar's brows shot up as he found a large nasty scar oozing blood on the right side of his face. That spread from the top of his right cheekbone, across his eyelid and to his forehead. He just caught the last wisps of the same fire which covered Lyze's sword wither away from the wound.

Lyze pointed Libur at him and sighed, catching the Boaz's attention.

"I know I can't defeat you Ottar. Not even as I am now. But I believe I have achieved a form of victory here."

"A victory? How?"

"Adventurer's from the top familias never seem to have any scars, you included. That is because they have healers or they can commission members of the Dian Cecht Familia to erase those scars from their beings like they never existed. But that will not be the case here."

Ottar stood up straight and tall as he stared at Lyze, all his previous stoniness gone as he gave the boy a frown of shock, irritation and awe.

"Why?"

"Because any scar created by Hellblaze...can never be gotten rid of. No matter how brilliant your regeneration or your Spirit Healing is, that scar will never disappear. It will stick with you for the rest of your life. My Hellblaze can't kill you at the level I am at right now, but simply inflicting this much damage on you was all that I'd been aiming to achieve."

"You did this...just to give me a scar? What purpose could that possibly serve?"

Lyze dropped his shoulders and sighed.

"As the strongest adventurer of our generation, people think you're some sort of invincible pinnacle which they will never reach. And while you aren't arrogant, you don't hesitate to see the rest of us beneath you simply because we are weaker. Which to be fair is no sin on your end. It's just the way things are. But that scar I have inflicted will serve as a promise and a reminder to you."

"What?"

"A promise that I do indeed have what it takes to surpass you. That even at this level I am now at, I still have the means to cast permanent damage on you when others of higher levels than me can't even touch you. And a reminder...a reminder that the person who was able to make sure that you would remember them, and your battle with them every time you look upon your own face was not some other high level adventurer with great power close or equal to yours. No!" Lyze thrusted a thumb at himself. "IT WAS ME!"

Ottar stared at the boy, unsure of what to say as he tried his best to comprehend the boy's thought process. To be honest, it actually looked like he was conversing with someone on the verge of lunacy with how dramatic Lyze was acting. But if his words were true...then Lyze had accomplished something that truly nobody else had ever done before. Something that even the adventurers of the Zeus and Hera Familias couldn't do.

Lyze had managed to imprint his memory on Ottar's body as a form of mental warfare, a symbol that would serve to remind Ottar repeatedly of Lyze. In other words, the boy had forced himself into Ottar's mind and to be able to do that to any opponent...truly was a form of victory over them. Ottar found himself smiling as he anticipated the great things Lyze would bring to Freya someday in the future. The goddess always got what she wanted after all, and Freya's happiness was Ottar's happiness.

"Now then Ottar." Lyze said as he smiled. "I have given you what you wanted. I have finally revealed to you the ominous power which you so desperately wanted to see. Now that you have accomplished that, what will you do? Are you going to walk away..." Lyze put Libur away in his hammer-space and crouched into a stance, his fist clenched as he gave a clear indication of his desire for a fisticuff. "...or are you going to fight? And show me what YOU can really do."

Ottar smiled and clenched his own fists, his heart pumping a little faster for the first time in a long while.

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