A Piece of Your Fantasy

it may sound absurd but don't be naive

even heroes have the right to bleed

'Opportunities.' he heard the little girl say, her smile having not faltered in the slightest. The term was neither foreign nor strangled in his current realm of thinking, since it wasn't too long ago that it became necessity when living the life of a wizard -  but there was an odd, rather fickle sense of secrecy underlining Charlotte's words, almost as if the cheer in her persona melted and fizzled into something else for a brief fraction of a second. A crease rose over his brow as Terith eyed the two girls who took the liberty of getting there first, the light of the blue flame casting a different shadow atop their figures. What was it, he thought, that made him feel so uneasily different from the two?

Oh...well...if his memory hadn't forsaken him (yet), there was old saying of letting sleeping dogs be, or something along those lines. Perhaps that was the best time to apply it, even if never made sense to the blonde in the first place.

Then, between the foot of arching doorway and a mountain of shiny somethings was their man of interest - Harper, along with his crew of bandits, hands digging lustfully into the stash of gold and shimmer that visibly piled over their slithery forms. Goldshine couldn't be any more discreet with his chosen alias as he flourished an impressive, shiny do up on his head, the pompadour glittering with his overbearing clothes. His choice of movements complimented his pretentious-looking person too, as he simply sauntered over to them with a bottle of alcohol tipped to his lips, almost as if caution was too much to produce in their presences.

Terith brandished a frown first before his hand could slither down the handle of his blade, and it was a harsh, disappointing curve tilting towards his jaw line as he felt largely offended by how their enemies carried themselves. The atmosphere was starting to become far too condescending for his taste.

Halfway from his peripheral vision was Haia's attempt to look largely unconcerned for Harper's show of mouth, the noise of sharpening metal jarring even him as Goldshine quickly loses to her nonexistent care for the matter.

'Opportunities.' he thought, again, his brain imitating the way Charlotte spoke of it and somehow finding his notion of responsibility as he did so. Knowing how Harper and the lot sort of busied themselves by looking irate at the girl with flames in her hair, Terith opted to take advantage of the group's carelessness, his body waning out of Goldshine's span of vision as he sought aid from the spirit Chiyome.

Her soul is poised and wordless as she allowed her vessel to traverse the remainder of the space with her shadows clinging to his body, and after safely noting the transparency of his existence to the onlookers, the swordsman sets his pace at a rapid clip, rushing over to the cart of treasures that Harper must've loaded in a heartbeat. Terith sneered, placing a heel over the cart rim, tipping it over with a sharp kick. "Hey, you with the stupid hair!" he hollered, grabbing Goldshine and his boys' attention almost too quickly, a nerve popping over the bandit leader's temple.

"ARE YOU ASKING FOR IT TOO? HUH PRETTY BOY?!"

The sound of Kushinada unsheathing beneath his palm was a fine and inviting metallic sound, one that told a story of a fight in the making, "Let me take you on that offer."

As if irked by the swordsman's confidence, Goldshine moves to send in most, if not all of his men half-way across the space and head first into Terith's range, faces red with anger as they hauled towards the blonde in drastic numbers. In the short seconds that the group took their time to charge at him, he'd have already positioned several copies of Kushinada in all the right places - a large population of these counterfeit blades suspended close to the roof of the treasure room. He'd have to pay his gratitude to the spirit Masamune later for his indispensable generosity when it came to making copies of his Etherblade.

Before Harper's men would have consumed the entirety of the distance, Terith permits the blades to make their descent, their sharp ends thinly slicing through the dusty air, evidently resulting in a chorus of pained grunts and some very hushed cries of pain, as if the men were hesitant to showcase their intolerance - not that the copies derive much damage to begin with, anyway. He'd assume it was as close as getting scraped with the edge of a kitchen knife; surprising, sure, but not enough to warrant a scream.

But far from that was his intent, having realized a battle stance prior to it. Thankfully, the surprise that accompanied Terith's sword barrage was enough to generate confusion, where senses dulled slightly, enough for him to cast his Hirazuki without the nuisance of bodies hurdling their weapons against him, now that they were somewhat preoccupied with the stream of blood pooling across their skins.

As per his choice of strategy, the old soul of Hijikata Toshizo renders his dominion over the Chronicle with nothing on his face but an empty, stern expression, eyes like ice that almost felt like he'd been judging the fight the entire time. Silence stifles any chance of conversation as the spirit simply grants the Hirazuki to his vessel, contemplation gone from his mind. Not minding his spirit's lack of words, Terith revels in the energy coursing through the holes in his capillaries, swimming through the red in his arteries as he wedged his sword forward, his body following suit. Taking into consideration the marking system of the spell that came with the hits from his copies, it wasn't difficult to find accuracy in his movement. The dull edge of Kushinada weaved delicately though the mass of bodies that desperately scrambled to deal a number on him, only to get gutted with Kushinada's handle. The swordsman seems to have decided that he'd brandished his best skills then to draw as little blood as possible, despite wielding a sword who's nature dictated into to cut instead of crack.

But...it'll do, he thinks, kneeing another man in the shin as he attempted to swipe him overhead with an axe, successfully reducing him into a writhing mess - and this sort of bout would readily continue as Harper frustratingly screamed at his men to cooperate, the blood rushing to his face which would starkly contrast the gold in his clothes.

"JUST KILL HIM ALREADY!"

Feeling the bore of repetition as one came after another, Terith immediately sheathes Kushinada, drawing faces of malicious intent and advantage unto his person as Harper's men struggled their way to raise their weapons at him in unison.

"Perfect." he mumbled, quickly drawing Kushinada out along with a disparagingly ample rapture of energy from activating his Kigen-ryuku, throwing the enemy army off its course and littering bodies in random locations with the force of the Origin's energy - which appeared to be more potent in tight spaces like these. To his right, the swordsman sees that the two girls appeared mostly unharmed, to which Terith expressed his relief in a wholesome sigh.

An uproar of groaning sounds soon wafted from the inside of the treasure room's cloistered space due to men landing in unsavory places and unfavorable positions, though it only increased as a bit of the treasure mounds that piled on either corner started to wiggle and crumble from its safe position, evidently burying some of the less than fortunate to be beneath their shadow.

Ironic, it seems. But it was far from done. From his spot on the floor, he'd have eyed Harper's location, where a patch of crystal started forming in both rage and humiliation, pining him to the ground in an effort to not be taken by the blast.

"Why...you...little...!" Goldshine said, his fingers frosting over with the shine of crystals gathering at the tips, slowly coating the entirety of his arm.

"Khh." he grumbled, realizing a sharp slither of pain as he stood. It must have been in the earlier scuffle with the bandits that Terith managed to receive a few cuts down the line of his spine and a large, smoldering punch mark near his hip. How he didn't notice was beyond him, but he'd have little time to counteract whatever the bandit leader had for him if he was going to heal beforehand.

"Miss Starstruck!" he urged, tilting his body to the left as he narrowly dodged a large spike of crystalline material, no doubt with an intention of maiming his everything, "This is your chance, take him out!"

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