Johnathan stepped from the fog, the moonlight reflecting off of the water droplets on his cold armor. The wind was slowing down, and the fog would not reach Magnus. But he would not let the Oldblood vampire escape. He smiled under his helmet, moving towards a clearing Magnus had apparently prepared for the battle. His vain pride would be his downfall one day, Johnathan knew, just as it had struck him in the fog. Johnathan was well stocked with blood, but Magnus would have to be tired after regenerating his lungs, and the oldblood hadn't had a single bite to eat. He would be at a disadvantage, and even without the fog Johnathan was confident of his chances.
Johnathan entered the clearing, a hulking form covered in steel and crucifixes, nearly glowing in the light. He took the Crimson Blade, and stabbed it into a nearby tree, laughing as he advanced. "I need no weapon other than God's will to strike you down, Magnus. Come, face me and die with the honor your kind values so greatly." Johnathan moved forward, preparing for the fight. Only one person was walking away from this clearing, and he would ensure it wouldn't be Magnus.