Arcane vs Archeron: RPG

"He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot will be victorious." - Sun Tzu

These were words of the truest Ares; the Master of War. No other man better knew the art, the practice, and the execution. Arcane found so much wisdom in these words and proceeded to do his work with caution.

Heat and radioactive debris radiated from him, boiling the water, baking the concrete, and catching the trees, people, and animals on fire. The National Park became a living hell and all things in it knew this fact. Arcane took in a deep breath and sighed heavily; it was illustrious. The toxic aroma of rot and decay was satisfying to the creature and he strode through the burning ecosystem with sadistic glee.

A cloud of pollution rose over the city and police forces found the state of fire and smoke too powerful; firefighters failed to even dent the strength of the flames. And in all of this, Arcane still knew that there was one thing missing. He broke the pattern of the firewall and strode into a clearing. He cooled the oven of his skin to avoid catching the grass on fire as well; but the green turned to black from nuclear sources instead of heat.

"Where are you, Acheron? This should have been enough to get your attention an hour ago."

Night in the National Park was usually a calm affair, something to watch in silence. Tonight was the exact opposite-no one wanted to see this. The chaos was staggering. People literally were spontaneously combusting from the source, the grass was dying, and trees were lighting aflame. Smoke rose out and surrounded the area like a wall, one that the local law enforcement could not penetrate.

However, there was one being in the vicinity who could enter, and still live, at the very least. His name was Acheron. And he was going in.

He landed behind the police ad firefighter's gathering. With a jump, he flipped over and past them, and landed. He sensed that the source had moved-the devastation still lingered in this area, however. With a glow in his hand, his katana appeared, glowing a dull red. He ran forward, ignoring the cries of protest from the bystanders and police.

He emerged through the smoke, his cape carrying along some of it's smog, the wisps trailing off of like a ghost. He saw, in the distance, a heavy hulking form. He branished his sword, and moved forward through the lingering flames, passing by the corpses and ruined nature.

He came up behind the one called Arcane, ten feet away, holding his sword up in front of him. There was no exchange of words, but only action.

He swung his sword twice, a useless action from his distance. However, two thin, long waves of red energy was flung from it, slicing through the air towards his target.