Ifrit was more than content in this battle. His earlier tasks had been nothing, just grinding ants into the dirt. Centuries of imprisonment, surely he had deserved a better challenge. Yes, the might of Paterdomus had fallen before him, much of their army thrown to him like the kindling to a flame, but that was before he was whole again. Before... Before Shaige, his new master. This was different. He felt the thrill of each kill, stamping his feet upon the poor savages without a second thought.
These were challenging foes. For even as he weighed carelessly around the battle, claws spilling blood in the rampage, he was stuck by many of the burning and blessed projectiles, which were rather painful, especially as his new form was fleshy enough to keep them embedded deep. As if the pain weren't enough, it became increasingly harder for him to find victims. They were scurrying about, faster than he could whip around to strike them down. He wasn't used to smart tactics like this, far more used to the strategy of standing ground and casting magic. Of course, the solution to this problem was simple enough, but before it could be executed, Ifrits attention was distracted.
When the battlefield was lit up, Ifrit spun around to find the source of this light. Surely his master would not approve of this. After a moment of searching, Ifrit felt a stinging sensation across his obsidian hide. Though at first the feeling was negligible, the searing found its way around the plates of pure black. It was that foolish attack that brought Ifrit staring in the right direction.
A new bloodlust filled the creatures amethyst eyes, as he froze amidst the raging melee. He stared at the combatant for just the slightest moment, before he took in a deep breath, shuddering as he did. Though many spears were flung into his body, he cared not. There was one target. One goal. One kill. With a mighty roar, Iftit shook the battleground. From every pore and orfice on the lizard creature, his deep black smoke poured out, rolling in thick waves toward the pyro upon the temple, masking much of the battlefield.
Ifrit would have trouble reaching the woman, as the path to the temple was heavily guarded. But under the impenetrable black of his smoke, none could see far enough to predict his path, which was erratic. He leapt and bounded across the field, claws trampling soldiers and defenses alike. In his weaving leaps, Ifrit sometimes allowed his tail to whip out above the smoke. Surely this would be unnerving to Emily- not knowing where and when a strike would erupt from this sea of black below.
This time, there was no hesitation. As soon as he was within range, Ifrit coiled his back legs, hidden at the very edge of the ocean of choking smog. It would've taken a masterful eye to track his movement, but anyone could guess the he had been moving to here- close to his opponent. Many beasts feared flame, but Ifrit was not so foolish. He thought back to the days of his service under the Infernal King. He had soared across the skies on wings of flame, spreading his masters will as jets of flame, raining down upon heathens. Though his new form was not nearly as extravagant, his charred hide had been tempered by flame, and he could still feel the happy burning deep within himself. What a fool this woman was, to challenge him with fire.
A single bound brought him before Emily, his shiny claws scrabbling to catch a hold. Rather than attempt to snap her up in his mighty jaws, Ifrit would take the merciful path. "Today you have made a dire mistake, and chosen the wrong side. You have not yet seen the truth of my masters power- his might is unrivaled. But you are merely an ignorant child, so I shall show you mercy." Ifrit spoke, lowering his serpentine head to her level. "I am Ifrit. I am the living flame, the smoke that scours the land. I have scarred the very sky, and toppled a thousand rulers. I, the Scion of the Infernal King have brought ruin to more villages and castles than one can see in a lifetime. I, humble servant of the true ruler of these lands, have been given the honor of dealing with your kind. Today, little one, you must make your choice. Turn your fire on the filthy savages below, and accept my masters might...' he said, gesturing to the battle below with his tail. "Or end up another bloodied corpse, left to rot in the dirt." Even as he spoke, Ifrit ran his tongue out across his teeth, baring the thousand ivory needles, clearly hoping for her to refuse, and make his day that much better.