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tampered2007-02-18 04:05 pm
6thclaymore.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-02-18 04:05 pm
(no subject)
When; February 18th, afternoon
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Miria {![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
6thclaymore} & Zaheela {henkonasuisho}
Summary; With Zaheela destroying things in the forest as a Dark Knight, Miria mistakes her aura for that of an Awakened Being and sets out to do as she always does with such beings. Destroy them.
Log;
The forest was filled with the dying screams of her prey, drowning in their own blood. Sliding her Algol into its holder, Zaheela merely smirked as she stood over the dying form of some twisted lizard monster. Hand held out over his pathetic corpse, she slowly, on purpose none the less, drew the last of it's lifeblood from its body into her own body. Wounds hissed shut and her smirk turned into a frown. Her tongue darted out to lick the blood off her gauntlet as she stood there.
Anger. Rage. Utter hate. It was all she was feeling. Those emotions drove her to hunt on this day. Black armor shone in the sun, and her eyes stared at the forest behind her. The animals of the forest had run away once she entered, a demonic, chaotic feeling pouring from her pores. A living demon perhaps could describe her, but for now, all she wanted to do was spend her rage cutting down monsters. Her Algol purred in her mind's ear, the demonic dog within hissing its approval of the bloodbath as her Death scythe, cleverly hidden away in her dimensional pocket, whispered calming words. Zaheela was no longer a calm, patient White mage, but a dangerous killer. A master of dark magic and weaponry, a tool of war.
The women called Claymore hunt Yoma. It is what they do, and it is what they exist for, what they are created for. And no matter how Miria had vowed to destroy the Organization for that they had done to her, to the others, for the lies they’d told… it was her purpose, too. It drove her, as well. And ever since entering the City she had been confused, her senses assaulted with feelings of creatures that felt like Yoma, but always were not, merely something else, sometimes even humans, which was enough to spark fear in the 6th. For to kill a human, even on accident, was to break the Cardinal Rule and face death at the hands of a hunting party made of more powerful sisters. It meant the end, and Miria would not risk the end for a human. And it was with a hint of danger that she had sensed energy quite like something she was accustomed to hunting. An Awakened Being, a Voracious Eater… surely one could not be here. And yet the aura was so similar, so irkingly familiar, that she could not rest without investigating it. And it was to that sight that the 6th Claymore arrived to view the scene, not yet having drawn the namesake blade, silver plates of her own armor ghosting against the sunlight. She waited for the humanoid to turn, to see it. She had to be sure…
Within her headpiece, her ear had twitched as she heard the arrival of the woman. Zaheela frowned as she felt something wholly unnatural about this woman's aura pour off her. Turning her head, and then her body, she frowned, her hand twitching. Tail swishing, she focused now purplish red eyes on the new 'companion', the slitted eyes narrowing. She had briefly talked with this one about the Valentines day and it's meaning, but right now, the aura around the woman was screaming confusion and perhaps intent to kill. 'Careful, dear one... She is not to be trusted' Her scythe purred while her great sword merely growled. Neither weapon liked the woman nor her unannounced intentions. “What is it you wish to talk to me about? What is yourrrr purrrpose?” She hissed, not caring to control her natural accent at the moment.
Miria had always been blunt, been straight-forward. She did not yet draw her blade, though she felt naked without it in her hand, even with the knowledge that it could be brought to arms within seconds. “If you are what I believe you are, then I come to kill you.” Her voice was hardened, hardened by years of hunting parties in which she killed those of her kin who had Awakened, had pushed their Yoma powers to their brink and been unable to returning, turning to the practice of devouring human intestines as the very beasts they were born from and hunted. The appearance of the woman in front of her was something to throw her off, however. She had never confronted an Awakened Being of this image… but… they were all different, and capable of taking other forms… and it was possible she had taken the form of someone from another world, as all of the City’s denizens were. But she did not yet move, still hesitant. … If she were wrong…
Zaheela was not unused to death threats. Many times she had been hunted, the hunter, the killer. She turned fully, her eyes almost glowing. She was in no mood to dally with the idiots, knowing full well that her hold on her blood lust was far from thin, yet not firm. “What do you believe me to be then?” She asked, her tail thrashing behind her as her aura grew more intense. Her muscles twitched as she mentally prepared to draw the giant sword strapped to her back the moment the strange woman made a false move. Ignoring the bloodied corpses around her, she kept her eye on her opponent. “Demonrrr? Monsterrrr? Killerrrr?” Her leg shifted to brace herself in case she was to draw.
"Awakened Being." The 6th answered evenly, a dull clinking of metal as the knee-high armor on her legs voiced the sound as her steps began carrying her close to the one she faced. One who felt, by all means and accounts, like a fallen sister who had lost herself, even exhibiting something familiar in the matter of speaking, seeming almost... disengaged, not attached to what was really happening if it wasn't a fight or kill. An unearthly lilt to the voice that seemed to convey that they were not even seeing the same world. But she still felt conflicted, recognizing the vague appearance of this woman as someone she had spoken to earlier, and then she had felt most different... but if she had recently Awakened... resigned, Miria began to reach for the hilt of her blade, watching each movement carefully.
“Awakened Being? What sssssort of rrrrrrrevelance would that have to me?” She snarled, fangs showing as she felt a rumbling growl tear itself from her throat. The shade of her eyes darkening to a sort of bloodied red and the rune on her cheek almost shifting.
Eyes snapped to the movement as Zaheela's own hand blurred to wrap around the hilt of her blade, bring it out to shine in its glory. The Dark blade made a clear note, the two prongs extruding the aura of a Demon. She readied herself for the first strike.
It was at this point that Miria made her decision. This thing was dangerous. Had to be taken down… surely it could not be human. Not feeling like this, like the overwhelming rage and helpless anger exhibited by her sisters who had gone too far. The claymore blade she received her title from came to bare, then, wielded easily in one hand as a courtesy of the Yoma powers within her, the same powers that wracked her form, that turned her eyes and hair to silver shade, that cursed her, her, the mark that was hers alone etched clearly on the metal of her sword and the fabric of her neck-guard. The sigil of number six. But there was no need for words any longer, and the woman called Claymore moved, heavy broadsword effortlessly swung at a middle height in one smooth motion.
The blow was parried, and shoved back the woman's claymore with incredible force. Metal met metal, and Zaheela snarled, her own blade as light as a feather to her. She didn't want to fight another trapped soul here, in all honesty, who had done nothing to harm her. She wouldn't die, but she had to stop this woman if she were to do anything. The urge to see blood grew as she lunged forward, stepping heavily on her right step, swinging the blade with one hand in an upwards blow. For now, she'd test the waters, as long as she didn't loose it, she could enjoy a good spar.
Miria allowed herself to be pushed back, the clang of metal something familiar to her senses. She stepped to the side quickly to avoid the slash of the one she faced, blade coming up to shove the other from the inside arc, following through to slash forward at the small opening offered by the imbalance that would follow on her opponent’s left, mouth pursed in a firm line as she too was moving cautiously, afraid to commit herself too fully.
Zaheela snarled as her blade's inertia forced her to leave her side wide open but she grabbed the hilt with her left hand and swung it downwards. The blades clashed, barely stopping the other woman's blade from sinking into her side more then an inch as she growled. She tore the blade edge from her side and watched her opponent. This woman was obviously just as much of a master of the blade as she was, and she had underestimated that. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly as she lifted the blade, eyes watching her opponent like a hawk did a mouse.
The 6th took a moment as her opponent watched her to wipe crimson from the metal of her blade and bring it to her lips, tasting and smelling. ... The smell was correct... full of the taint and corruption and evil given off by Awakened Beings. ... It... couldn't be anything else, could it? And yet the doubt remained, eating away at the back of her mind. "Prove to me you are not an Awakened Being." She finally spoke, allowing this thing a chance to explain if she cared to, though even with the words she had swung again, lower, this time, in a sweeping arc.
Zaheela barely blinked as the woman licked away the blood on her blade. She blocked the swing, catching her opponent's blade it between the two prongs. Pressing her weight into blocking the claymore, she addressed her opponent, purplish red eyes clashing with silver. “Why should I answer to you?” She questioned, her clipped tone once again replacing the natural accent of her kind. She flicked her blade, disentangling her blade, and forcing inertia to take it's course. “You came in, stating your intent to kill. So we fight. I know not what an 'awakened being' is, but all I know is that you wished to fight.” Once again, she let her Algol swing, only this time it was at a shallow angle, allowing her plenty of time to block a blow if her swing missed or was avoided.
"You should answer if you are not Awakened." Miria's voice was level and devoid of any other emotion. "Because if you are not, it would be regrettable that I killed you." Her blade was forced aside by the pronged one, but it flicked back to guard almost immediately, coming down hard on the hit coming towards her, to force it down as she stepped back, following with a flick of the broadsword's tip that was aimed to the face.
An eyebrow rose as she dodged by simply leaning backwards and then somewhat to the side. Her body arching in feline grace, Zaheela twisted below the swing. Humans possessed a somewhat limited sense of balance compared to her own, which meant she wasn't as limited. Her blade followed as she turned her whole body and swung upwards, the metal of her algol cleaving off the woman's left hand, trailing fire as it passed across it's coarse. “I do not know what you mean by Awakened. I know that you are trying to kill me however.” She answered as she let her arm finish it's arc, her eyes still focused on the woman. “I am a Dark Knight, not an 'awakened' being .”
Miria's eyebrow rose in consternation at the sight of the stub of an arm she now sported. ... That was not expected. This woman moved unlike a human, which reassured her she would not break the Cardinal Rule, but... The Claymore's eyes flashed silver and the veins began to bulge on the side of her face, releasing more of her Yoma energy. With that, the stump convulsed before new flesh burst from the remnants, darker in color and writhed with veins and muscle as a new hand knit itself together. "I have not yet truly tried to kill you." Miria remarked. "Now, what do you eat?" Punctuating that sentence came a sudden slash, scoring a deep red line across her opponent’s legs were the armor was not.
The sight of once missing flesh regenerating was surprising to Zaheela, who, even as a white mage, had never seen such a thing in her life. Something in her seethed, it didn't want to see her efforts to be utterly IGNORED. A flash of pain as the blade passed through one of the few unarmored parts of her body, and then that seemingly POINTLESS question, it all urged her to just completely berserk. Shoving down the aforementioned urge, she smirked. “Fish, meats, fruits, vegetables, that kind of stuff, what do you think one such as I ate? However....” She focused on her opponent's still healing hand and began to tug at those invisible strands of energy that streamed off of every 'living' being as blood tore itself out of the still fragile skin, transforming into from crimson blood to crimson tinted light as it pass through the air. Gathering the energy past her breastplate and into her own body, she felt the wounds heal, though they were still sore.
“You however, I question your mortality. What sort of mortal is able to do such healing without being a demon themselves?”
It was only the slightest shock to show on Miria's face, accustomed as she was to the strange. As much as one could grow accustomed to such a thing. And this was a strange thing, certainly. "Awakened Beings devour human intestines." ... And none had ever lied about that desire either, incapable, it seemed, of such a deception. And without cause... The veins on her face increased in number as she released more of her Yoma powers to counteract a lose she felt, an unexplained one, the newly regrown hand that had begun to shrivel under her opponent’s workings fleshing out once more, now complete. "I never made claim to mortality." Her voice still remained strong and clear. "And such a statement would apply to you." The healing... that seemed to have come from energy stolen.
“The spell Drain, it takes blood from one's enemy and uses it to heal their wounds. If another Dark knight came to this world from my own, they would sport the same spell...” She answered without prompt, inwardly gathering power as she suddenly let her body slip into one of it's stages of release. Unlocking the Mana resting within her body, she allowed her body's natural defenses weaken and transferred the energy into her arms, her legs. Around her the air grew red with dark energy as she released what most of her class would do, the ability labeled Last Resort. The wounds on her legs reopened in slight, but she ignored the sting, her blade held up in a ready position, ready to react at the slightest twitch. “I am the arm of Chaos, now what will you do?” She questioned the woman, heavily wary.
The 6th did not care for an explanation of how it worked, or why. All she cared was that this was something that was wholly incapable by any of her kind, any Awakened Being, any Yoma. Miria flexed her hand idly, making sure the regeneration was complete and all the veins and tendons had corrected properly. When done in a rush or without power one could botch such things. Her claymore was still extended in front of her, though her silver eyes merely examined. ... The energy felt like an Awakened Being. ... But... it was not? This City... With a sigh Miria abruptly sheathed her blade, turning her back and beginning to walk away. "I was mistaken." Her voice called. "You are no Awakened Being." ... Something horribly dangerous and probably worthy of death, by the feel, but that was not for Miria to decide. ... She hunted what she hunted. Nothing else.
Letting her Mana creep back into its normal state, she frowned. The person in front of her was not whole, part something. If she had been in her own world, she would of thought her to be the same as herself. Perhaps they were on the same level on skill with the blade, judging on how hard it had been for both of them to out power the other and to block the other's blows. She would ask later... Maybe. “What is an Awakened being anyways? We dark knights are the arms of Chaos, users of...demonic energy.” She asked. She at least wanted an answer. “You owe me that, Woman.”
“I am no woman.” Miria responded coolly. And it was true, in a sense. They had been human women once, but no longer. She stopped walking for a moment, but did not turn, a slight breeze ruffling the thick layered silver hair that obscured her armor. “Awakened Beings- Voracious Eaters… are powerful Yoma. Yoma that can take the form of humans, and must consume more intestines than others to maintain their power.” She automatically spouted the lie the Organization told. If it got out that Awakened Beings were actually former Claymore? .. Disaster.
“Man eaters.” She replied. Zaheela could sense the hesitation, but she didn't call upon it. The unholy energy of the thing in front of her was something to question, but for now, she wanted a proper fight. Turning her back, a foolish move, but something told her to move on. She needed new prey, a new FIGHT, new BLOOD. A fight where she would not hold back. Disappearing deeper into the forest, she began her hunt once again.
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Miria {
6thclaymore} & Zaheela {henkonasuisho}Summary; With Zaheela destroying things in the forest as a Dark Knight, Miria mistakes her aura for that of an Awakened Being and sets out to do as she always does with such beings. Destroy them.
Log;
The forest was filled with the dying screams of her prey, drowning in their own blood. Sliding her Algol into its holder, Zaheela merely smirked as she stood over the dying form of some twisted lizard monster. Hand held out over his pathetic corpse, she slowly, on purpose none the less, drew the last of it's lifeblood from its body into her own body. Wounds hissed shut and her smirk turned into a frown. Her tongue darted out to lick the blood off her gauntlet as she stood there.
Anger. Rage. Utter hate. It was all she was feeling. Those emotions drove her to hunt on this day. Black armor shone in the sun, and her eyes stared at the forest behind her. The animals of the forest had run away once she entered, a demonic, chaotic feeling pouring from her pores. A living demon perhaps could describe her, but for now, all she wanted to do was spend her rage cutting down monsters. Her Algol purred in her mind's ear, the demonic dog within hissing its approval of the bloodbath as her Death scythe, cleverly hidden away in her dimensional pocket, whispered calming words. Zaheela was no longer a calm, patient White mage, but a dangerous killer. A master of dark magic and weaponry, a tool of war.
The women called Claymore hunt Yoma. It is what they do, and it is what they exist for, what they are created for. And no matter how Miria had vowed to destroy the Organization for that they had done to her, to the others, for the lies they’d told… it was her purpose, too. It drove her, as well. And ever since entering the City she had been confused, her senses assaulted with feelings of creatures that felt like Yoma, but always were not, merely something else, sometimes even humans, which was enough to spark fear in the 6th. For to kill a human, even on accident, was to break the Cardinal Rule and face death at the hands of a hunting party made of more powerful sisters. It meant the end, and Miria would not risk the end for a human. And it was with a hint of danger that she had sensed energy quite like something she was accustomed to hunting. An Awakened Being, a Voracious Eater… surely one could not be here. And yet the aura was so similar, so irkingly familiar, that she could not rest without investigating it. And it was to that sight that the 6th Claymore arrived to view the scene, not yet having drawn the namesake blade, silver plates of her own armor ghosting against the sunlight. She waited for the humanoid to turn, to see it. She had to be sure…
Within her headpiece, her ear had twitched as she heard the arrival of the woman. Zaheela frowned as she felt something wholly unnatural about this woman's aura pour off her. Turning her head, and then her body, she frowned, her hand twitching. Tail swishing, she focused now purplish red eyes on the new 'companion', the slitted eyes narrowing. She had briefly talked with this one about the Valentines day and it's meaning, but right now, the aura around the woman was screaming confusion and perhaps intent to kill. 'Careful, dear one... She is not to be trusted' Her scythe purred while her great sword merely growled. Neither weapon liked the woman nor her unannounced intentions. “What is it you wish to talk to me about? What is yourrrr purrrpose?” She hissed, not caring to control her natural accent at the moment.
Miria had always been blunt, been straight-forward. She did not yet draw her blade, though she felt naked without it in her hand, even with the knowledge that it could be brought to arms within seconds. “If you are what I believe you are, then I come to kill you.” Her voice was hardened, hardened by years of hunting parties in which she killed those of her kin who had Awakened, had pushed their Yoma powers to their brink and been unable to returning, turning to the practice of devouring human intestines as the very beasts they were born from and hunted. The appearance of the woman in front of her was something to throw her off, however. She had never confronted an Awakened Being of this image… but… they were all different, and capable of taking other forms… and it was possible she had taken the form of someone from another world, as all of the City’s denizens were. But she did not yet move, still hesitant. … If she were wrong…
Zaheela was not unused to death threats. Many times she had been hunted, the hunter, the killer. She turned fully, her eyes almost glowing. She was in no mood to dally with the idiots, knowing full well that her hold on her blood lust was far from thin, yet not firm. “What do you believe me to be then?” She asked, her tail thrashing behind her as her aura grew more intense. Her muscles twitched as she mentally prepared to draw the giant sword strapped to her back the moment the strange woman made a false move. Ignoring the bloodied corpses around her, she kept her eye on her opponent. “Demonrrr? Monsterrrr? Killerrrr?” Her leg shifted to brace herself in case she was to draw.
"Awakened Being." The 6th answered evenly, a dull clinking of metal as the knee-high armor on her legs voiced the sound as her steps began carrying her close to the one she faced. One who felt, by all means and accounts, like a fallen sister who had lost herself, even exhibiting something familiar in the matter of speaking, seeming almost... disengaged, not attached to what was really happening if it wasn't a fight or kill. An unearthly lilt to the voice that seemed to convey that they were not even seeing the same world. But she still felt conflicted, recognizing the vague appearance of this woman as someone she had spoken to earlier, and then she had felt most different... but if she had recently Awakened... resigned, Miria began to reach for the hilt of her blade, watching each movement carefully.
“Awakened Being? What sssssort of rrrrrrrevelance would that have to me?” She snarled, fangs showing as she felt a rumbling growl tear itself from her throat. The shade of her eyes darkening to a sort of bloodied red and the rune on her cheek almost shifting.
Eyes snapped to the movement as Zaheela's own hand blurred to wrap around the hilt of her blade, bring it out to shine in its glory. The Dark blade made a clear note, the two prongs extruding the aura of a Demon. She readied herself for the first strike.
It was at this point that Miria made her decision. This thing was dangerous. Had to be taken down… surely it could not be human. Not feeling like this, like the overwhelming rage and helpless anger exhibited by her sisters who had gone too far. The claymore blade she received her title from came to bare, then, wielded easily in one hand as a courtesy of the Yoma powers within her, the same powers that wracked her form, that turned her eyes and hair to silver shade, that cursed her, her, the mark that was hers alone etched clearly on the metal of her sword and the fabric of her neck-guard. The sigil of number six. But there was no need for words any longer, and the woman called Claymore moved, heavy broadsword effortlessly swung at a middle height in one smooth motion.
The blow was parried, and shoved back the woman's claymore with incredible force. Metal met metal, and Zaheela snarled, her own blade as light as a feather to her. She didn't want to fight another trapped soul here, in all honesty, who had done nothing to harm her. She wouldn't die, but she had to stop this woman if she were to do anything. The urge to see blood grew as she lunged forward, stepping heavily on her right step, swinging the blade with one hand in an upwards blow. For now, she'd test the waters, as long as she didn't loose it, she could enjoy a good spar.
Miria allowed herself to be pushed back, the clang of metal something familiar to her senses. She stepped to the side quickly to avoid the slash of the one she faced, blade coming up to shove the other from the inside arc, following through to slash forward at the small opening offered by the imbalance that would follow on her opponent’s left, mouth pursed in a firm line as she too was moving cautiously, afraid to commit herself too fully.
Zaheela snarled as her blade's inertia forced her to leave her side wide open but she grabbed the hilt with her left hand and swung it downwards. The blades clashed, barely stopping the other woman's blade from sinking into her side more then an inch as she growled. She tore the blade edge from her side and watched her opponent. This woman was obviously just as much of a master of the blade as she was, and she had underestimated that. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly as she lifted the blade, eyes watching her opponent like a hawk did a mouse.
The 6th took a moment as her opponent watched her to wipe crimson from the metal of her blade and bring it to her lips, tasting and smelling. ... The smell was correct... full of the taint and corruption and evil given off by Awakened Beings. ... It... couldn't be anything else, could it? And yet the doubt remained, eating away at the back of her mind. "Prove to me you are not an Awakened Being." She finally spoke, allowing this thing a chance to explain if she cared to, though even with the words she had swung again, lower, this time, in a sweeping arc.
Zaheela barely blinked as the woman licked away the blood on her blade. She blocked the swing, catching her opponent's blade it between the two prongs. Pressing her weight into blocking the claymore, she addressed her opponent, purplish red eyes clashing with silver. “Why should I answer to you?” She questioned, her clipped tone once again replacing the natural accent of her kind. She flicked her blade, disentangling her blade, and forcing inertia to take it's course. “You came in, stating your intent to kill. So we fight. I know not what an 'awakened being' is, but all I know is that you wished to fight.” Once again, she let her Algol swing, only this time it was at a shallow angle, allowing her plenty of time to block a blow if her swing missed or was avoided.
"You should answer if you are not Awakened." Miria's voice was level and devoid of any other emotion. "Because if you are not, it would be regrettable that I killed you." Her blade was forced aside by the pronged one, but it flicked back to guard almost immediately, coming down hard on the hit coming towards her, to force it down as she stepped back, following with a flick of the broadsword's tip that was aimed to the face.
An eyebrow rose as she dodged by simply leaning backwards and then somewhat to the side. Her body arching in feline grace, Zaheela twisted below the swing. Humans possessed a somewhat limited sense of balance compared to her own, which meant she wasn't as limited. Her blade followed as she turned her whole body and swung upwards, the metal of her algol cleaving off the woman's left hand, trailing fire as it passed across it's coarse. “I do not know what you mean by Awakened. I know that you are trying to kill me however.” She answered as she let her arm finish it's arc, her eyes still focused on the woman. “I am a Dark Knight, not an 'awakened' being .”
Miria's eyebrow rose in consternation at the sight of the stub of an arm she now sported. ... That was not expected. This woman moved unlike a human, which reassured her she would not break the Cardinal Rule, but... The Claymore's eyes flashed silver and the veins began to bulge on the side of her face, releasing more of her Yoma energy. With that, the stump convulsed before new flesh burst from the remnants, darker in color and writhed with veins and muscle as a new hand knit itself together. "I have not yet truly tried to kill you." Miria remarked. "Now, what do you eat?" Punctuating that sentence came a sudden slash, scoring a deep red line across her opponent’s legs were the armor was not.
The sight of once missing flesh regenerating was surprising to Zaheela, who, even as a white mage, had never seen such a thing in her life. Something in her seethed, it didn't want to see her efforts to be utterly IGNORED. A flash of pain as the blade passed through one of the few unarmored parts of her body, and then that seemingly POINTLESS question, it all urged her to just completely berserk. Shoving down the aforementioned urge, she smirked. “Fish, meats, fruits, vegetables, that kind of stuff, what do you think one such as I ate? However....” She focused on her opponent's still healing hand and began to tug at those invisible strands of energy that streamed off of every 'living' being as blood tore itself out of the still fragile skin, transforming into from crimson blood to crimson tinted light as it pass through the air. Gathering the energy past her breastplate and into her own body, she felt the wounds heal, though they were still sore.
“You however, I question your mortality. What sort of mortal is able to do such healing without being a demon themselves?”
It was only the slightest shock to show on Miria's face, accustomed as she was to the strange. As much as one could grow accustomed to such a thing. And this was a strange thing, certainly. "Awakened Beings devour human intestines." ... And none had ever lied about that desire either, incapable, it seemed, of such a deception. And without cause... The veins on her face increased in number as she released more of her Yoma powers to counteract a lose she felt, an unexplained one, the newly regrown hand that had begun to shrivel under her opponent’s workings fleshing out once more, now complete. "I never made claim to mortality." Her voice still remained strong and clear. "And such a statement would apply to you." The healing... that seemed to have come from energy stolen.
“The spell Drain, it takes blood from one's enemy and uses it to heal their wounds. If another Dark knight came to this world from my own, they would sport the same spell...” She answered without prompt, inwardly gathering power as she suddenly let her body slip into one of it's stages of release. Unlocking the Mana resting within her body, she allowed her body's natural defenses weaken and transferred the energy into her arms, her legs. Around her the air grew red with dark energy as she released what most of her class would do, the ability labeled Last Resort. The wounds on her legs reopened in slight, but she ignored the sting, her blade held up in a ready position, ready to react at the slightest twitch. “I am the arm of Chaos, now what will you do?” She questioned the woman, heavily wary.
The 6th did not care for an explanation of how it worked, or why. All she cared was that this was something that was wholly incapable by any of her kind, any Awakened Being, any Yoma. Miria flexed her hand idly, making sure the regeneration was complete and all the veins and tendons had corrected properly. When done in a rush or without power one could botch such things. Her claymore was still extended in front of her, though her silver eyes merely examined. ... The energy felt like an Awakened Being. ... But... it was not? This City... With a sigh Miria abruptly sheathed her blade, turning her back and beginning to walk away. "I was mistaken." Her voice called. "You are no Awakened Being." ... Something horribly dangerous and probably worthy of death, by the feel, but that was not for Miria to decide. ... She hunted what she hunted. Nothing else.
Letting her Mana creep back into its normal state, she frowned. The person in front of her was not whole, part something. If she had been in her own world, she would of thought her to be the same as herself. Perhaps they were on the same level on skill with the blade, judging on how hard it had been for both of them to out power the other and to block the other's blows. She would ask later... Maybe. “What is an Awakened being anyways? We dark knights are the arms of Chaos, users of...demonic energy.” She asked. She at least wanted an answer. “You owe me that, Woman.”
“I am no woman.” Miria responded coolly. And it was true, in a sense. They had been human women once, but no longer. She stopped walking for a moment, but did not turn, a slight breeze ruffling the thick layered silver hair that obscured her armor. “Awakened Beings- Voracious Eaters… are powerful Yoma. Yoma that can take the form of humans, and must consume more intestines than others to maintain their power.” She automatically spouted the lie the Organization told. If it got out that Awakened Beings were actually former Claymore? .. Disaster.
“Man eaters.” She replied. Zaheela could sense the hesitation, but she didn't call upon it. The unholy energy of the thing in front of her was something to question, but for now, she wanted a proper fight. Turning her back, a foolish move, but something told her to move on. She needed new prey, a new FIGHT, new BLOOD. A fight where she would not hold back. Disappearing deeper into the forest, she began her hunt once again.