@kai_aurelius:
Within an instant, he saw the being's form change, returning his golden trident to his back. It was a move that would suggest peace, rather than violence, but Stewart knew otherwise. Between the span of seconds, the armor-clad king assaulted the Duke of the Depths, launching an offensive that consisted of a massive flurry of blows, each one sending superheated bubbles towards the surface. The response? Right before the first fist struck, all he would see would be a slight shift in the Exemplar's posture.
Rock surged from the site of the clash, the Aquatic Aurelius' fists colliding violently with the skin-layer armor of the so-called Sea Master. He made no move to resist, no attempt to dodge or block any of the strikes; he simply allowed his body to be torn from its position, pummeled through the reef and emerging on the other side, battered directly through the mountainous undersea plateau by his enraged foe. Dust moved in large clouds around them, thrown up by the whirlpool-like flurry of punches. They hit his face, knuckles rippling across the geomagnetic field that constantly surrounded him; they rammed into his gut, water temporarily blasted off of him due to the sheer might of the blow.
The bubbles cleared, the cascade of corporeal strikes done with for now. But rather than face a brutalized, beaten adversary, the king would witness Stewart casually right himself, spinning around in the water faster than the eye could see to come up to a "standing" position, legs together, arms crossed. His micron-thin energy layer, exuded by his very form, had been damaged, yes, but not penetrated. Underneath, he maintained the stance and attitude of a man who had not even so much as felt the attack. He looked up at the destroyed reef, and then back at the king, who had unsheathed his trident.
"You dared incur my wraith insect! Now bare witness to the ramifications of such idiocy!" he'd recalled hearing, a battlecry that carried through the water like a sonar wave even above the racket of the fight.
"Mm-hm," he said, cracking his neck from side to side just as the King of the Western Sea angled the trident towards him, tip glowing with threatening power. In an instant, a superheated bolt of mystic energy ripped through the water towards him, a flash that would be too fast for even the most trained eyes to see. Only through his reflexes honed in trench and sky along with his godly reaction time enable him to raise his arm right as the blast emerged, the bright light startling him for a moment.
When he lowered his forearm, it was smoking, a feat in its own right given their underwater setting. Heat coiled from his skin, reddened and irritated, the biokinetic shield surrounding his body pierced for a fraction of a second. It had been enough to scorch his arm, reddening it like the limb of a man who'd spent an entire twelve hours in the desert. He narrowed his eyes.
Impressive, was his single thought.
Scowling, he inspected the steaming, bubbling arm for a moment, raising it back to cross over his other arm. His eyes continued to have a dull, almost glazed-over look to them, his face locked in a calm, disinterested veneer. So far, it'd not been the distraction he was hoping for.
Time to retaliate, and see if this "king's" endurance equals the power of his strikes.
His arms still locked over his chest, he was still for an instant, then propelled himself upwards through the water at unimaginable speeds. It was more akin to flying, the way he soared through the ocean, propelled not by his limbs, but by his hydrokinetic will. He spun through the water at speeds that would cause a whirlpool behind him, his wake drawing in waves to produce a small cone of heated water around his form not unlike the one that had previously accompanied the attacks of the king. And his attack in question? He would arc upwards and down again, bringing the black sole of his commander's boot into the king's upper body with a force that would humble a torpedo. Continuing to "stand" atop the Sea King, he would attempt to simply crush him into the ocean floor beneath his two feet, arms continually entwined disdainfully over his chest.
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