Gone

Crystet continued vibrating quickly, his head still pointed towards the ground. He hadn't lifted it up at all during the little excited speech Sciat had given, and for good reason. He had forgot to read the small little fine print of the ability. What was that fine print? Let's check.

[Preservation]

[Passive Skill]

[Preservation grants the user the ability to reset their body to a previous state, and to place their body within a ten meter radius area of where they died*.]

[Cooldown: Until Midnight.]

[*This comes at the cost of losing control of your own body, allowing a spirit that has the most affinity with you to take over, and slightly alter your opinion. This effect will only last for ten minutes.]

Well, wasn't that important? Shards of ice began forming on Crystet's shoulders, as Sciat began to feel the pressure in the area rise. It was a sign of Crystet getting stronger on the spot. Sciat started to feel cold air run down his back, and he didn't feel so confident about his current situation. The spikes formed on his shoulder and his head, forming a helmet of ice, which did look pretty cool. Crystet finally looked up, only for Sciat to see that his face was cracked with cyan streaks, almost like tears, or even blood.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?!" Sciat yelled, feeling even more under pressure as Crystet kept growing in power, reaching an equal level of power to Sciat. 15,000. It was much better than Aaron's [Official Power Level] of only 1,502, but then Aaron wasn't really trying to do anything special during that test. It wasn't really much to go off, but he was SUPPOSEDLY ten times stronger than Aaron, if you just minus 20 at the end of those calculations.

Crystet, or whatever was inhabiting him right now, just stared into Sciat's soul, before forming a large spike of ice in his right hand. He flung it towards Sciat almost as if it was as light as a snowball. Sciat dropped to the ground, flat against the drawbridge, like a starfish against the tank of an aquarium. It just barely skimmed against the side of his head, leaving a frozen patch of ice where his skin was. This was no ordinary icicle. It was one that replaced flesh with ice, leaving anything else unharmed. It may not sound bad, but it was brittle ice. If it hit your shoulder, and your arm was then kicked, say goodbye to your arm.

Sciat lifted up his head to start getting up, only to see Crystet directly infront of him, his fist coated in ice. He couldn't think of any actions he could have done, and got punched in the face. The left side of his face, where he was hit and a little bit around it, was turned to ice. It gave Sciat an inside look as to what what was inside his own face, and to his surprise, there was actually bones and blood. He thought he was completely made of magic. Well, you learn something new every day.

He had much bigger concerns however, as Crystet, whatever he had become, was rushing towards him with another ice-coated fist. He was prepared this time, if only by a small bit more. He activated Flame Burst, coating his own fist in flames. He swung his fist, going for a collision course with Crystet. Their fists collided, as steam rose from them, almost like a barrier. Sciat couldn't see anything, not even a shadow of Crystet, but then he felt a sharp impact against his back. A sword! Who dared...?

He saw a robed human standing behind him, a sword through his back. He then felt being turned, as it was driven in deeper. Sciat began to scream, as the sword pushed even deeper into his back, stabbing some of the essential organs, like his liver. He then felt the sword exit his body, as the cold feeling of blood rushing from his back sent danger messages to his mind. He tried to find a way to cover it up, but blood just kept on flowing like a fountain from his back.

His strength started to leave his body, as he sank to his knees, doing everything he could to stay alive. He felt his consciousness being tugged at the by the light in the sky, trying to drag him away. Where he would go, he didn't know, but he didn't want to go yet. There was something he still had to do.

He saw Crystet standing above him, smiling a smile of an insane person. His cracked face made it even more terrifying, considering that it almost looked like he was crying. Tears of joy or tears of sadness couldn't be distinguished. Almost like a mocking face, yet the tears were all over the place. In his hand, a sword made of ice began to form, although it took a few seconds for it to actually form, as it needed precision, so that it wasn't just a dull shape.

The sword looked like a claymore, and the spirit possessing Crystet licked the sword, almost as if he was wanting to get a taste of his own blood. He walked over to Sciat, lifting his hand up as he prepared to swing down. Sciat took this as his chance, and with the last of his energy, he costed a his hand in a white-hot ball of flame, and shoved it into Crystet's chest.

"I'm not going down...unless I take you WITH ME!" Sciat yelled, as he snapped his fingers with his other hand. Sciat closed his eyes, contempt with his decision, as the ball of flames exploded outwards, consuming the both of them in almost hell-like flames. Nobody could see what was going on in there. The flames then disappeared, and only one person was left standing.

Crystet stood there, looking down on the charred remains of Sciat, the only thing left unburnt being his head. He picked it up, and said something.

"You really thought a suicide move would work? Pitiful."

Sciat no longer lived. He was now...

Gone.