Under the infinite starlight, the Worldwalker strode longingly and slowly. He had awoken from some damned, inhuman sleep three days prior and had not once caught a glimpse of his fell opponent in this land. There was always someone, something lurking, waiting to strike. He had grown accustomed to such a foul practise - though it was no way to truly live - and had prepared himself accordingly.
What this time? He thought to himself. Demon? Man? Angel? Bloodthirsty beast? And what myriad manner of creatures he had faced before. The Gates of Arvioris had given way to a great Fell Berserker of the Shadow God, and the Hall of Flame was home to a fearsome Burning Knight. Both had proven deadly challenges; flinging him to the next world in the chain. Here. To this world..
He had stumbled across the courtyard in his search for his challenge in this realm: a fantastic opening of polished stone under an eternal night sky, framed with arching constructs of stone and fading wood. The mysterious and eerie place was inset into a greystone mountain that had a half-circle of doorways carved into the very rock. Where they led, however, was a different question entirely.

The Worldwalker brandished Balance, carrying it in his strong hand, holding it behind him in a half-ready battle stance. He treaded lightly; this place was certainly the arena of his next foe. His Dragon Hook was wrapped and ready, his throwing knives primed and ready to be thrown. There was little more he could do. He stood in the middle of the courtyard, looking left and looking right, hoping to catch but a single glimpse of his foe.

“Show yourself! let us be done with this!”

It was a journey, all of it was a long journey, and at times Ryuku had to wonder if his sacrifice was worth it. He was far from the perfect being that travelers and those he helped often thought he was. With his odd silver hair, bright green eyes and the extraordinary feats he often performed he understood why they thought such a thing, but it did not settle well with the man.

Three days he had been walking the mountains, guided by nothing more than intuition and a bit of luck. It wasn’t until the third night he broke somewhat free of the winding twisting paths of the mountain range, the Moschet Museum coming into view. It was a strange building, built into the side of the mountains, old and poorly taken care of. Yet, there was no mistake that was where he wanted to head.

Unarmed and unarmored he moved closer to the building, unknowingly approaching from the opposite direction The Worldwalker was. His path took him around several large boulders and down a slight hill. Be it merely chance or something else Ryuku capped the small rise just as The Worldwalker called out his challenge.

“You’ll wake the dead.” He said in a quiet, but strong voice, his words drifting on the eerie night breeze down to the garbed man in the middle of the relatively small open court-yard. Ryuku peered around, his bright green eyes narrowed as he took in the environment.

“This is a sacred place.” He walked down the little hill towards the courtyard and where The Worldwalker stood. “It is an old place. Do not disrespect it.” That last was given not as a suggestion, but rather, a warning.

And then, as suddenly as he had awoken in the shaded world, his challenge appeared before him; as though on cue. The night seemed to darken as the two caught each other's glare across the courtyard; the monk's jade green eyes narrowed as they lay upon the Worldwalker, and Arcturios' own stormy soul windows glistened with preemption and ferocity.

"There are no sacred places, this world is but another in a line of endless worlds. It is faulty, a facade." he spoke in a hushed, ominous tone to the man who had begun to circle the courtyard, never losing focus. His challenge certainly did not look like a foe to take lightly, but a quick evaluation showed no weaponry, no armour. He was, essentially, unarmed. A hand-to-hand combatant, no doubt. Distance would do him favours in this melee, and it was guaranteed to be violent, whichever way it went.

"There is no respect, only another challenge. Envy not the dead, Monk," he said once more, pulling his body into a battle stance and brandishing Balance with one of it's savage lanceolate blade pointed right to the challenger. There was some distance between them, but it was a gap that could be closed quickly.

"Let us be done with this,"

Ryuku removed his bright orange top, letting it fall heavily onto the ground as he walked. His fingers worked with a practiced ease as he checked the white wraps that covered his hands and forearm. Bare feet stepped lightly on the rough ground as he maneuvered his way to stand a dozen feet before his opponent.

Garbed the way he was it was hard for Ryuku to make anything out in detail, other than the stormy color of his eyes and of course the wicked looking double-ended polearm. But wrapped in the many folds of clothing who know what such person held?

“That is where you are wrong.” He explained calmly and patiently. “Many places are sacred to one person or another, and they all deserve respect.” He placed his right hand on top of his left and bowed slightly at the waist, his eyes never leaving The Worldwalker.

He then lowered into his stance while rising to the balls of his feet, his weight distributed evenly on both legs, he had not yet committed to attack or defend. He thought about replying to the man’s last couple words but decided against it, they would likely fall on deaf ears anyways.

“As you will, then.”

"The ant hill is only sacred to the ant, Monk." he retorted, almost angrily as his foe prepared himself, contorting his body to show a willingness to do battle. He did not make his position obvious, as Arcturios could not decipher whether his intent was to attack or play the defensive, but he had approached The Worldwalker, closing the distance between them fast.

Just as hie foe readied his body and soul, Arcturios lowered himself similarly, and extended the point of Balance so it was just beyond the reach of his foe. He did not immediately make any attempts to attack, maintaining a slow and steady composure with every carefully thought out motion.

"Tell me..." he continued, slowly waving Balance through the air in a complicated pattern that left no open holes in the line of defence, with no obvious weaknesses in it's trace. "Do you fear death?" he asked.

And then, without a second thought, he spun incredibly fast on his heel, retracting Balance to his body, creating a deadly circle of cold steel around him. As his circle neared completion, he flung his arm outwards, extending his hand. From his palm flew a throwing dagger, a vicious small-blade that shimmered through the air almost faster than the eye could follow. It was aimed directly for his challenger's neck, and it approached it's mark with startling speed. A direct hit would have been devastating, especially against bare flesh.

“And you believe you are greater than the ant?” Ryuku asked, his voice calm and lacking the anger that his opponent seemed to be displaying. He held his position, the calm before the storm it as it had been described to him by others, and took in Arcturios’s fighting form.

That deadly weapon, Ryuku would need to be very careful. One wrong move and a limb could very well go missing. He watched his opponent, only giving the tip of the weapon a cursory glance and instead he watched the whole of the man, doing his best to watch how he moved and the ease and skill with which the weapon moved through the air.

When Arcturios started his move, so too did Ryuku. He moved in the opposite direction that his opponent spun, his left, his opponent’s right. His feet working in unison with his body to maintain perfect balance so that even when his opponents hand shot out Ryuku only needed to press off a little with his right leg to propel himself a fraction faster forward and to the left, causing the dagger to fly harmlessly over his right shoulder as he came towards Arcturios’s with the equally blinding speed.

His right hand shot out to grab his opponent’s dagger throwing hand by the hand with his fingers on his palm and thumb on the top of the hand. Then, attempting to use leverage and his continued movement Ryuku would try to twist the hand clockwise and step by, forcing the arm straight and hopefully forcing Arcturios’s arm straight and the man off balance all at the same time hoping the man’s ability to wield that deadly weapon would be less effective with the use of one hand.

Arcturios' for a very slight moment, tensed his arm. He did not expect his foe to be capable of movement at such speeds; it was his own fault for not properly evaluating the situation. However, it did not take long for the Worldwalker to regain his composure and surety of mind. Distance was his ally in this fight, alongside degrees of attack and defence. Balance was effective at range normally, but would be able to gut an opponent who was close up should the polearm be retracted to his body as it was now.

'And then, without a second thought, he spun incredibly fast on his heel, retracting Balance to his body, creating a deadly circle of cold steel around him'

He let his now-entraped arm fall loose, allowing him a small degree of movement between the ensnared limb and himself. He twisted with Ryu, turning with his hips instead of his shoulders, dragging Balance towards the belly of his opponent before he could fabricate any further deadly situations. This would, at least in Arcturios' head, force Ryu to release and evade the swipe or risk being gutted by the wicked weapon. Though whether his attacker had more tricks up his sleeve was another question entirely. Should he release his arm, Arcturios would bound backwards and fall into a defensive stance once more, watching, waiting, evaluating silently.

With deep and still calm breaths and techniques that he had practiced his entire life Ryuku continued to flow. Not breaking in stride and refusing to give up the leverage he had on his opponent. A fight could very well be ended with the sort of advantage he currently had, disabling a hand or an arm was crippling against someone that relied on weapons, especially such a large weapon.

Ryuku knew his predicament, he saw it coming but there was not much he could do about it, his only hope was to use his technical advantage and body mechanics against his opponent. If the man got away Ryuku was sure he would not so carelessly let him close the gap again.

As Arcturios turned his hips but did not move his legs to try and reposition himself Ryuku yanked as hard down as he possibly could, at the same time bending his opponents wrist as much as he could, all while continuing his graceful steps to his left, his opponents right, rotating his body by placing his right foot behind him to only present his left profile to Arcturios, this also served to put him behind the man’s arm. He hoped the sudden jerk and continued pressure would be enough to dislocate or break the delicate bones in the wrist, snap the elbow or maybe dislocate the shoulder.

There was a catch however; at such close range and even while pivoting Ryuku could not hope to evade his opponent’s weapon entirely. The man was too skilled and had to great of control on the weapon. He was thankful that the man hadn’t stabbed at his legs and instead attacked where Ryuku could bring his other arm to defend. His left arm came out and across his body to guide the bladed weapon away from him.

The blade easily sliced through the wrapped bandages, skin and muscle as it slid along the side of his forearm. It wasn’t an ideal block and the edge, even after guided past, would still graze along his open side as well. While not as deep as the cut on his arm it would still bleed freely down his right side and soak into his pants.

The unmistakable feeling of tearing flesh reverberated through Balance, meaning that Arcturios had struck Ryu, but perhaps not in the intended location. From his foe's hand came a stream of blood that quickly saturated his handwraps with red. Yet his temporary victory was surpassed by the growing intensity of the pain in his wrist; his determined foe was pulling hard, and he was pulling down, even a direct hit from his savage weapon to the hand did little to deter his assailant.

It was going to break. If it broke, it would not only have been agony, but would have spelled potential doom: wielding a polearm with one functioning arm is far harder than it is to do with one hand, no matter how skilled he was. There were only a few options left to him to avoid such an outcome: get behind Ryu with a circle motion of his own, lessening the pressure on his wrist as the pressure on the joint is released, or make a mad attack at the legs of his opponent.

The pain was near enough blinding, but through the flashes of red he twirled back around Ryu, attempting to move faster than he to get behind him before he, himself, had his opponent behind him. As he moved the pressure on his wrist seemed to fade, though it left a lasting ache that would prove an annoyance in the fight to come. It was then that he lunged (though the two warriors were side to side) with a dirty strike from his head, making an attempt to slam it into Ryu's temple, aiming to stun him for precious seconds - enough for him to break free from the iron grip.

Ryuku remained focused, accepting the pain and working through it and while the wounds to his hand and leg were painful, they were not fatal. He continued to apply pressure to the wrist, he was surprised at his opponents strength and resiliency. It took roughly five pounds of pressure to break that part of the body, and his opponent and just barely managed to turn and twist enough to avoid that fate.

As he was still holding his opponents hand, when Arc began to turn it was easy for the Monk to follow with him. Ryuku needed to only shift his footing and turn with his opponent; all while maintaining pressure on the wrist for a few moments longer.

He was now turned so that he was facing Arc, so when his opponent tried to smash his head forward he was find Ryuku’s bloddied hand rushing up to try and palm strike him in the jaw. At the same time Ryuku would finally release the pressure by pushing off the hand so that it couldn’t come to defend right away, he hoped the pain and ache would mean a slow response time.

The two were close, very close, and Ryuku planned to keep it that way. He could be devastating with elbows and knees, close strikes. At this range, where such a huge weapon would be hard-pressed to do anything Ryuku felt he had the distinct advantage and he would try to keep that advantage, if Arc wanted to move away he would find Ryuku just as quick to follow, using his experience and skill at close range combat to expand when his opponent contracted and contract when his opponent expanded, it was fighting 101.

Arcturios' strike at the head of his foe worked both to his advantage, and not to his advantage: the pressure grip upon his wrist was finally released, at the cost of a glancing palm-strike into his chin. The strike would have undoubtedly caught and broken his jaw had he not quickly moved his head backward in an attempt to evade the attack, but with the forward momentum that his head already maintained, it would not have been possible. But his hand was free, though pained, and that was what mattered.

He pivoted his entire body in a single spinning arc to gain distance between his foe, though he was attempting to follow closely. He kept momentum with the strike on his chin and spun in the same direction, whirling Balance furiously and at tremendous speed to create a near impenetrable wall of flurry strikes in front of him while he quickly regained his temporarily distorted focus. Gaining distance was imperative. To his left and slightly behind was the central stone structure of the courtyard, a pavilion of six polished stone pillars. He could easily use the structure as a barrier for which to gain a more reasonable level of distance. He began to slowly back away, giving no indication of his intent.

His slow retreat to the courtyard centre was replete with a strike, two strikes, three strikes from Balance, nothing more than quick slashes from behind the spinning polearm, not meant to cause serious damage but to keep his opponent on his toes.

Ryuku wanted to follow, to step inside that range even as Arctrurios began spinning that deadly weapon. He knew he could avoid the blade if he kept himself extremely close. But, he did not, staying on top of his opponent and preventing the use of his weapon, while smart, wouldn’t be nearly challenging for the Monk.

So, Ryuku took a step away from Arctrurios, then merely stopped and let his opponent play out his dance. Spinning the weapon with deadly furry, he would find Ryuku unmoving, only smiling as he watched the display of skill. “Excellent. Truly excellent.”

After a moment his smile became somewhat of a grin that came ear to ear, Ryuku was enjoying this. “I will wait until you have collected yourself, I did not mean to rattle you so soon. My apologies, warrior. But, perhaps now you have learned some respect, yes?” His tone was far from mocking, and he was actually sincere, he meant to impart knowledge on the man – even if that came at the end of a fist.

“Are we ready?” He finally asked, lowering himself once again while at the same time rising to the balls of his feat, his balance evenly distributed, a mirror stance to last time.

Arcturios allowed his weapon to grind to a halt, the spin slowing until it was still; not disturbing the air around it like it had during its furious flurry. The monk had stopped and allowed Arcturios to gain distance for a reason that the Worldwalker did not understand - perhaps it was some unusual custom of the denizens of this world, but he did not dwell on the thought for long whilst the fires of combat still raged around the two combatants.

It was then clear to him what manner of Monk he fought: one that valued balance and serenity, devoting his life to imparting wisdom upon those who would look up to him. But knowledge was a strange phenomena, something that one could only come upon if one wished to be privy. Arcturios was not one of these people; there was no time for lessons, no time for respect. Somewhere in the vastness of the planar conflux, his only child was at the mercy of some abhorrent Demon God. He would not let a man - a teacher of love and harmony - keep him from exacting revenge upon he who deserved it.

"Respect?" he spat. "Respect?" He brandished his weapon, assuming a stance that utilised his weapon as a spear rather than a polearm, pointing it gracefully and carefully to his challenger. "I am one of many that envy the dead, Monk. We are ready, and only one of us will walk from this World."

He thrust the weapon forward in an attempt to spear the Monk in the belly. He held Balance in such a way that the slashing edges pointed both left and right, so in the event that his foe was to dodge left or right, he would follow his motion and disembowel him with a devastating slash to the gut. If he were to grab the weapon mid-thrust, he would pull to cut the hands and thrust once more, using the pain as a distraction to break through the Monk's practiced defence. Should he dodge upwards or downwards, a blunt strike to the head or the groin with the flat of the blade would be his answer, followed by a second stabbing attack. And should his foe evade backwards, he himself would step forward, maintaining a healthy distance and striking with a rapid upwards sweep in an attempt to shred the Monk's feet before carving through his mid-section with deadly accuracy.

Ryuku maintained his stance and watched Arc curiously, noting he mans reaction to his words, his anger and furry. The monk briefly wondered if he had touched on something? It didn't matter however as Ryuku was not given the time to ponder the situation, instead he was forced to act as his opponent came at him, using his weapon more like the traditional spear and less like the two-sided weapon he had before.

This was a problem for the unarmed Monk of course, getting past the defenses of a spear was no small matter. The act of controlling range was extremely important in any fight and it seemed Arc learned from his earlier mistake. A wise decision Ryuku thought and one that would be costly to him.

He noted the speed at which the thrust was delivered and had no choice but to adjust his weight and move backwards, keeping his arms to his side and out of slicing range. His feet brought him swiftly backwards and to the right and just as swiftly his opponent moved forwards and attacked. This time, however, the attack was too swift for the unarmed and unarmored monk. Ryuku moved his feet awkwardly to avoid them being stabbed, but the follow up to his gut caught him off balance and the lethal blade sliced open the unprotected stomach, spilling blood and guts everywhere.

Too slow, he thought. And with that Ryuku fell forward, his hands clutching feebily and weakly at his stomach as his life-blood left him.