[center][youtube]?v=vI0FETSHAv4[/youtube][/center]

As he finished his speech, the man had begun speaking on his own. Not of surrender, but of continuing this little dance they have been spinning in the streets. With the crashing of falling buildings and rubble littering the ground as the only sound in their ears. Following his proposal, The Baron sneered once more. Baring only the left side of his teeth before drawing the blade off of his shoulders, it was alway touching when they drew out their final desperate throes before surrender. "Take your blade once more, boy. But you must remember what I told you before, lest you find yourself disposable." 

The Baron handed his blade to his duplicate once more and turned away from Tetsue, marching a few paces away before the clone burst into the same cloud it had been formed from. The God-Eater sank point first into the ground before Tetsue, and The Baron weaved a weapon of his own design from the fog. A strange curved blade with a sword-breaker prong on the hilt, its length was that of a man, and the girth was much greater. "If you wish to demonstrate, so be it. For it has been far too long since I have shown one such as you what I am truly capable of." 

As he spoke, his cloud had clung tightly to his body for a moment. Pressing against his skin in various places, before pushing outwards once more. Though his wounds were not healed, they were pressed closed. Though he could weave weapons through it, he was not capable of patching himself with it. It was a shortcoming that he rarely had to overcome. 

With a new blade in hand, and a few feet between them. The Baron readied himself mentally and physically, prepared to match whatever he demonstrated. With as much force and speed as he could muster, because no matter how much he could change the force recieved and taken. He could not change how adept The Baron was in single combat. 

Born to bring war.

Born to bring pain.

Born to bring death.

Born to bring balance.

A creed of The Divine, created through eons of meditation.

The voice returned to his thick gravelly tone, no longer his own, but the voice of The Baron. "Come, boy. Face me as a god or as a man."

He paused.

"It makes no difference."