KOV VIII Round 3 - Web Flotsam vs The Umbra Sorcerer

Thank the Gods that his “benefactor” for lack of a better word gave them access to medical attention between rounds because fighting his last opponent the dragon God was tough on him physically. After the fight he was exhausted and the lightning that passed through his body burned like hell. Walking through this now abandoned temple he was well rested and confidant again, in this temple centuries of worship took place, countless prayers and rituals invoked in the names of Gods and Goddesses long since lost to mortal knowledge. He casually strolled at his leisure through the seemingly endless corridors running his fingers across the walls feeling the cold rough stone against his fingertips. Deep within the walls there was still an echo of the power from the worship that took place he could sense the ambient energy it was so strong it was as if he could fell it physically an odd sensation like electricity flowing freely throughout the entire place it was beautiful and reassuring that he could draw upon it if necessary in this battle.

Getting his bearings on their location he focused on what he’d been told about his opponent he wanted to win this and the only way to do that was to exploit its weakness but that was easier said than done. From the information he’d been given his opponent was his complete opposite in almost every way it was a being of science and technology while Umbra himself was a supernatural entity a being of magic and spirituality both powerful but living in completely separate worlds that rarely intertwined and in those cases when they did disaster was imminent. Regardless of the outcome of this fight it would be fascinating to those watching seeing such opposing forces try to outdo each other.

The witch was deep within the temple now passing though a large archway he was in awe at the sight of the room before him this place must have been the main location for worship it was huge in comparison, the masks that were prevalent throughout the temple seemed to be amplified here covering every inch of wall space. There was something unnerving about them besides their already obvious unflattering appearances, an unnatural chill crept though in the air and he could hear faint whispering clearly there was more than meets the eye to these decorations.

The technological competitor was not present at the current moment the mystic simply assumed that like him his combatant was off somewhere in the temple getting a feel for the place. Without much hesitation Michael set to work if he was going to win this it wouldn't be by sitting around and waiting for an attack. By the looks of the temple it was clear that human sacrifice was used as a tool for appeasing their Gods and that meant it was likely a few vengeful spirits would still be lingering in between worlds waiting to pass on but never achieving it. This gave him the perfect idea summoning a demon before was hard, summoning a few trapped spirits however was nothing, focusing on his innate gift of magic, “Spiritus surgo” he spoke his voice echoing within the halls of the ancient temple. In seconds ghostly entities had formed from before his eyes each sporting wounds depicting how they had been sacrificed normally the spirits would have been furious that a mystic would intervene in their matters but The Champion didn't have time for their concerns he offered them a deal they attacked his target draw him closer to this particular spot and he would help release them from their torment and allow their souls to pass on a deal they happily agreed with. He ordered his ghostly allies to attack and so they did flying through the hallways passing straight through the walls with their incorporeal bodies, the bait was set and he hoped his competition would be ensnared by the young sorcerers decoy’s and follow the spirits back here.

He expected that this may take some time so he sat upon the alter at the back of the room nonchalantly with his trademark sly smirk across his face and waited patiently for the technological combatant to arrive to really start this party.

Web clambered slowly up the stairs to the temple, steely feet digging into the solid rock. He had thoroughly repaired himself when he had access to the internet, and was now fully at one percent of his max power, metallic skin and four arms bristling with dataflame. He hoped this foe would push him to use more power than the last.

As usual, Orpheus wasn't much help. The masked man seemed too far behind him to be bothered with, and while the HE they kept talking about sounded pretty cool, knowing about him wouldn't be of any use here. He came to the entrance of the temple, a mighty thing with twin pillars covered in masks holding it up and a massive mask hanging over the main door. He stepped to the entrance and felt the eons of worship wash over him. Even to a god as ungodly as him, this was a massive source of untapped power. He would keep it in mind.

Before he could cross the threshold, however, something came rushing from the dimness inside. Wounded souls, glowing paley, lunged forth, knocking him back. His angry fists and dataflame passed right through them, leaving them no more harmed then they were before. This might be a problem. He backtracked, moving at a full one percent the speed of light. The ghosts couldn't even see him at this speed, but they still remained unharmed.

His opponent was already shaping up to be interesting. The ghosts saw him at the edge of the stairs but stayed near the temple taunting him. And annoying. Well, the masks were here for a reason, so he might as well check them out. He grabbed at the masks, putting them on and taking a few experimental strikes before switching out for a new one. Finally, a white mask clad his face and a ghost fell to his fist. The rest disapeared in an instant, put down by a flurry to fast for mere ghosts to see.This mask he was keeping, just in case his opponent had more ghosts he wanted to throw at him. The rest he dropped, except for an especially grotesque red one. The ghosts had displayed fear at the sight of it, so it should be good.

He brushed aside the leathery sheet that served as a door to the temple and strode in. He had a general idea that his opponent wanted to be found, what with the ghosts luring him like that. Well, let him have his wish. He'd regret it soon enough. From his body emerged small silver spheres, not much larger than baseballs. Tiny bladed tendrils writhed within them as they set out, hungry eyes searching their prey. Not only would they set into their opponent when they found him, he would soon follow. Hopefully the spheres didn't do too well.