"QUIT FUCKIN' HIDING!"
A fair thing to say, provided one had been stabbed, healed, tried to use their fire powers and was met with the opponent dodging and hiding behind a pillar to avoid being burnt.
"Ah, fuck it, I'll just fucking come over there and fuck you up myself!" Pyro roared, and Arthur heard footsteps rapidly approaching, so he got out from behind the pillar and stabbed forward blindly.
"Dumbass!"
The footsteps were real, but rather than going over to strike Arthur with his hands, he had rushed forward and leapt into the air, coating his body in flames to slow down any attack that might've managed to go through.
Arthur's stab missed, and Pyro reached his hand down to try and slam his face into the ground. However, he was slapped away by the tail of The Dragon, being sent back a few feet. Pyro stood up, before being stabbed through the stomach with the spear.
It exited out of his back, and the blood that came out was added to it, before it shattered and was remade. As it shattered, Arthur spun around, using the lack of anything heavy in his hand to his advantage, before finally creating a weapon that would do the most damage with high speed; a hammer.
Going from incredible speed as a result of weightlessness, only to form an incredibly heavy weapon—no doubt, it was mighty.
The hammer cracked into Pyro's neck from behind, and it hit his spinal cord with a heavy, visceral crunch. Shattered bone sent Pyro sprawling to the ground with a weighty thud, falling limp.
With rugged breaths, Arthur transfigured the blood to a katana. This time, there was purpose.
He stumbled over, as the boy began to heal his neck, costing him energy. Arthur raised his sword, and brought it down. Again, and again.
They weren't incredibly deep cuts, meant to take off limbs or break bones. But they were deep enough, tearing through skin and muscle, causing blood to spill onto the ground. Of course, this movement did exhaust Arthur, but he continued anyway, knowing it would be worth it.
"H-ha… ah…"
Momentarily laughing, he ended it abruptly, for it was taking up too much stamina. Over, and over again, he raised the sword and slashed apart at the boy who was in over his head, severing muscles, skin and flesh in half.
"Bleed for me, I need it."
Arthur muttered slowly, as his exhaustion wasn't getting much better. Pyro healed the broken neck, regaining control of his limbs and body. But the slashes, the endless slashes, which ripped apart the outer layers of his body, were difficult to heal.
Whenever he healed them, new ones would arrive. And he couldn't fight back either, as this was the secret behind his Dragon Art: Burning Heart.
Burning Heart worked so that the more "hype" Pyro felt—the stronger his will to fight, the stronger his flames and more he would be able to use them.
Whether it be a laughing lunatic, or a raging berserker, if Pyro could fulfill any persona that ignited his heart, setting it ablaze for combat, he would grow in strength.
But can one really feel "hype" when in utter terror? Upon feeling their control of their body slipping due to exhaustion as more and more wounds are given to them, with no end in sight?
His movements were dulled, and his flames refused to ignite. His warrior's spirit felt crushed. Such is the nature of exhaustion.
When one is ready to fight, their spirit is at an all time high. But as the fight progresses, when their body starts to ache, the wounds pile up, and their tank begins to empty, spirit is dulled. When one can't move their body, not due to physical restraint, but due to their own weakness, "fear" begins to seep in, and that fear can annihilate a warrior's spirit.
Much blood was released. And when Pyro looked up, eyes wide in fright, he saw darkness staring down at him. Of course, it was no magic trick—all due to the lighting of the building, as it was nighttime.
The flames which give light were absent, and what Pyro saw in that darkness, which towered over and refused to hold back its malicious assault, was unknown.
Just what kind of face was that thing making? What did it feel when it was continuously breathing, slicing him apart? Was it a long grin, ear to ear, with sharp, devilish teeth? Or was it completely blank, an unfeeling killer?
Perhaps monsters did exist.
And perhaps he had come face to face with one.
"Stop…" The boy weakly, oh-so weakly muttered. He'd exhausted his ability to heal, and the air had been removed from his lungs. Unable to move any further, the young boy begged for his life.
—The sword which was raised into the air did indeed stop.
Pyro tried to heal his wounds, or all that he could. Though, it was of little use.
What he saw before him, it did stop. It bent down, touching his stomach, which had been slashed a great multitude of times, taking all of his blood and turning it into a ring. All blood broke, and merely formed the ring on the Dragon's finger.
"—"
And it walked away.
…
Arthur stumbled out of the construction site huffing and puffing, before looking around him and seeing a Taco Bell.
'Ah… I don't think I can enter; my clothes are all burnt.'
He was not butt-naked, but his clothes made him look like a slut with how skimpy they were as a result of being burnt.
"Alrighty, guess you won that one! And you're not gonna kill him? Again?" Chad asked, walking over to him.
"Yeah. He's just a kid, I'd feel pretty bad if I just executed him on the spot, y'know?"
"Fair, I guess? He seemed pretty spooked, but I guess that's how it is," Chad said, seeing that Taco Bell. "Actually, how about a treat? You won, so I'll pay for your food!"
Naturally, free food was always welcome.
Arthur went in with him, sat down and let Chad pay for the meal. When he sat down, he let out a soft moan when he stretched.
'I won, yay. But man, did it suck. Well, I got some blood to use. Actually, I should have worked on him in his dragon form. That oughta produce a lot more blood, no?'
To him, he was simply trying to get more blood to use. Though it was probably painful for the kid, it was something Arthur himself had experienced, being beaten senselessly.
'Dang, well now I've got a bad taste in my mouth, since I was pretty extra in that fight. Ah, whatever. I'll just think of it like disciplining him.'
'Plus, it was a fight. If he didn't wanna get cut up, he shouldn't have challenged me in the first place. He got to live with his life, that's a gift that no other dragon's gonna willingly give him.'
After that, Chad came back with the food and Arthur reviewed the fight in his head as he ate.
'I was on the backfoot, so I can't really brag. But almost losing to a 15 year old does kinda suck. Well, he had the better power I'm assuming, since mine's kinda situational, or whatever. He seemed to have cool fire stuff.'
'If I were in his situation, I would've won. Maybe. Hopefully.'
'Speaking of, I kinda only won cause I broke his neck with that hammer strike. Well, technically I already won when I could've killed him after I smashed his head open with the brass knuckles.'
It could not be stated nearly enough. Arthur was someone with a weak heart.
To rush down an injured teenager and continue to beat on him until he died wasn't something he was willing to do.
Without much ceremony, Arthur finished his food and went home.
…
Around the same time, there was a boy in his bedroom. He was of above average height for a 16 year old boy, with medium length straight brown hair which reached his eyes.
The lights were on, and at that moment, he was laying on his bed, scrolling on his phone. It was then that he heard a voice from downstairs.
"Damien! Come down!"
The boy, Damien, sighed and got up from his bed, leaving his room and going downstairs. When he saw his dad, he initially thought nothing of it. However, what surprised him was that a woman was next to his dad, sitting down at the table.
She was a woman of brown hair and brown eyes, with a small smile on her face.
"Huh? Who is this woman?" Damien asked, pulling out a chair to sit down at the table.
"This woman is—!"
Interrupting him, the woman glanced at the young man.
"I am Anastasia Assas, your biological mother."