A Small Town On the Far Side of Fiore
The smoldering lump stood up in what could only be described as an angry manner. Once the man reached his feet, his shoulders were hunched, his breathing heavy, and the Phoenix Wing mark on his left hand was visible through his burnt glove. He swallowed and slowly bent down to pick up his dropped weapon, bits of his burnt coat falling off from the little bit of remaining fire on it. As he straightened himself after retrieving his weapon, he leveled the tip of it with the man that had thrown the fireball towards the crowd.
"I'm amazed you're still standing, that should've been enough to evaporate you into nothing," the dark mage mused, summoning another fireball in his hand.
"No matter, it should work this time."The mean who had miraculously survived the mage's first attack said nothing, his head lowered slightly and his sword raised. The crowd watched in horrified anticipation as the dark mage just shrugged and launched the fireball at his new opponent's chest. He didn't move, as anticipated, but what wasn't anticipated was when the burnt figure simply turned and raised his hand to the fireball, finally speaking.
"Negate: Heat." The fireball dissipated as it passed through the magic circle that appeared in front of the swordsman, who afterwards turned and readied his sword again. The Dark mage smiled slightly, and shrugged before holding up one hand by his head.
"Oh good, someone who doesn't just go down at the snap of my fingers, this'll be-" the shadow mage stopped as the Phoenix Wing mage charged him, and scoffed as he rose his hand quickly into the air, palm up. A massive wall of fire formed between him and his assailant. He was caught off guard, however, by the mage simply slicing through the fire, and charging him headfirst. He only barely noticed that the man's blade had turned black, like it had been burned, before it was swinging at him. The dark mage barely avoided the strike, followed by two, three, four more. Every time he tried to summon fire to try and slow him down, it was cut away.
After what seemed like forever to the Dark Mage, he finally got away from the sword-swinging maniac that was trying to cut him down.
"Wh-who are you?" This got the mage to stop and stand up, letting the tip of his blade rest on the dirt for a moment. He lifted his head as if he was proud, but the unkempt scraggly stubble of a beard, singed clothes, and messy hair just made him look like a homeless war veteran.
"I am Mayt, S-Class of Phoenix Wing," his voice was cold and monotone as he spoke, and he would put his other hand on the hilt of his sword. As the dark mage opened his mouth to reply to this, Mayt suddenly slashed diagonally upwards, casting another spell as he did.
"Amplify: Motion!" The attack caught the Dark Mage completely off guard, and he could only make sputtering sounds as the blade clove his body in two.
Afterwards Mayt just looked down at the corpse, the surprised look still on his face. He felt his face twitch in an attempt to smirk, but it failed to succeed for even a second, and he turned to face the crowd he had saved from the initial fireball. They looked at each other wordlessly for a long moment, before Mayt sheathed his sword again and started towards the hotel he had been staying in, hands in what was left of his pockets. He had finished in this town anyway, it was time to move on to bigger and better things.