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"If our suspicions are indeed correct, and I would be surprised if they weren't, I don't think the Withering even [I]can[/I] be cured," Gerald nodded at Jillian's words, one hand playing with the chain attached to the demon prison, the fingers of the other drumming nervously on the shaft of his staff. "At least not in the traditional sense of the word. We can remove the demonic energy from the infected and thus remove the symptoms, but we have no way to get rid of that essence or stop it from draining whoever it enters. We could seal the instances of Withering away individually, but that would be pointless as long as new people contract the plague every day."
[I]Ironic,[/I] he thought with grim amusement, smiling tiredly to himself as he slouched where he sat, weak and discouraged. [I]In theory we already have a way to save people from the Withering, which is the Withering itself; I could use the ability I derived from it to draw the plague from others. That should work for anyone but myself... and for every bit of Withering I cured in others, the Withering in me would grow stronger. I am the cure, but performing that role would definitely kill me.[/I]
"Which is why you need to see the expert in Jevog Denûm; to find a way to stop the Withering from spreading," Renold reminded them. "We have already surmised a general group of beings that could be the source of the Withering, but we still don't know exactly who it is or how they are spreading the disease across such a large area with no apparent pattern. The planes have never seen anything like the Withering because such a thing was never possible until now... so we have to learn how this demon is doing it. If we do that, maybe we can block that method from working in the future."
"And if such a thing is not an option," Crone sighed, "our objective must be to discover whichever infernal entity is causing this and defeat it. It would be prudent to conclude that the antagonist must be one not hindered by the barrier of the Divide, which would suggest that it must be a demon already in Reniam. The most likely suspects would appear to be the Grand Master of Evil or one of his generals, all of which were once sealed by the Nomad and can be sealed again..."
"That's not it," Gerald shook his head. "The Crusader's Guild is lead by Hazzergash, and they came after me in my home to get their hands on my research. They're trying to cure the Withering as well, and I doubt even Hazzergash would try to ruin one of his allies plots when it's on this big a scale."
"Which leaves only Himyth," Renold concluded. "The most elusive of the demon lords, but also one that was once banished to the Lower Plane but returned. Defeating her here should return her there, allowing the Divide to inhibit her influence once more."

"In other words we aren't looking for a cure anymore," the necromancer said, turning to the witch once again. "We're looking for a way to stop the Withering from spreading... and if we can't do that, we will have to find the demon responsible and defeat it."

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Ixion [I]was[/I] fast, it turned out, and not just at thinking either; his recovery time from receiving a knee in his midsection like that was actually quite impressive. Fixer had thought that the kick would buy him at least a couple of seconds, but the assassin had been able to counter the following palm-strike within less than a second of it. [I]There was less power behind that kick than I intended,[/I] he figured, even as his eyes were already following the hand that was moving to intercept his own. [I]If I had meant to kick him from the start of the movement rather than trying to adapt a step into a kick, it would definitely have incapacitated him for several seconds. And without my handicap - if I had been going all-out - it would have killed him on the spot. This is good news; a fight is more fun when it is even.[/I] That was why he was fighting with a handicap in the first place, after all.
Quick though he was, the dark agent could not abort his attack and withdraw fast enough to escape Ixion's counterattack, so Fixer just let the other grab him, Ixion's fingers closing around his wrist. It only took a split-second before Fixer realized what his opponent was trying to do, as he felt the force behind his thrusting hand being redirected and amplified. [I]Come now, do you think I'm all brute force?[/I] His smile widened behind the mask even as the mask's own only served to emphasize the madness of its wearer.
Rather than losing his balance and footing and leaving himself open to further manipulation, as was likely the purpose of the move, Fixer immediately stepped into the direction Ixion was trying to guide him, moving his entire body so that his movement was equal to that of his arm. [I]If I was using both hands right now, you'd be dead already,[/I] he mentally chided his opponent, even if he was happy to confirm that it had been a good decision to restrain himself from using his left hand. It could be difficult to assess opponents accurately at times, but Fixer had gotten pretty good at it; fighting with one hand was his second-lowest level of challenge, higher only to when he fought with no hands.
Instead of punishing the presumptuous move with his left hand - which he had prohibited himself from doing - Fixer twisted his arm around in Ixion's grip and swiftly grabbed onto Ixion's own wrist. It was a painful angle to have his wrist in, but it was just barely possible thanks to his step forward.

Having possibly locked Ixion into place like this, Fixer immediately swung his left leg forward and outward, to the side, drawing a rapid semi-circle before the kick reaching the point it had been aimed at, which would be just below the other's right armpit, in the side of his ribs.
This kick was intended from the beginning, and furthermore was composed of a much more forceful motion; if it hit, bones would be broken. Fixer was holding back from his full potential, yes, but he was fighting to his fullest within the parameters he had allowed himself. If Ixion made the mistake of thinking this was to be a harmless show or sparring match, Fixer would kill him.