There was no other reason that the Ambassador of Dies Irae had found his way to the Unknown Lands today.
The Magic Council of Fiore had requested his presence on this expedition directly, and he knew that the governing body wouldn't send for him directly if the matter at hand wasn't serious. Of course, the man saw himself as having no other choice than to comply. He was still bound by loyalty to the organization that had funded his guild and given it the extensive legal status they enjoyed today, though loyalty, much like other things, was nothing more than a surface level impression. It was easily established, easier to maintain, and the easiest to lose in a single moment. The future was very much unclear to the man, though he knew that, for the time being, he would heed a call to action and hoped that the favor would be returned, that his service to the societies of Earthland would be remembered when the time for action would come. Today, though, that was nothing more than a concept.
Johann didn't really know where exactly in the so called "Unknown Lands" he had ended up. A befitting name for a continent that was vast, unexplored, and full of all kinds of unimaginable dangers, riches, and mysteries to discover. Naturally, a myriad of mages had tried, and notoriously failed, before. Some. on the contrary, had made noteworthy discoveries and shared their success with the world, though compared to the ones that had vanished without a trace ... well, perhaps those were just stories, after all. What the God of Ishgar did know was that this particular place was evidently nothing to scoff at. Danger was admittedly an adequate description of the Unknown Lands.
Manifesting somewhere within the uncharted territory, the man had found himself in a wide open, rocky plane, no trees or other forms of vegetation, apart from swaths of moss and grasses, in sight, the mid-day sun bearing down from above with unrelenting intensity. Other people didn't seem to be around for dozens of miles, either. He couldn't sense anyone, at least. Harsh terrain was something he had expected right off the get-go, sure, though what had come as quite a bit of a surprise was the pack of wyverns that had descended from high altitude almot immediately after he had arrived, giving the man barely a chance to breathe or take in the situation before being forced to dodge a stream of concentrated, onyx-black flame ejected from the maw of one of the beasts with a surprised "What the-", scorching the red sandstone where he had stood just a fleeting moment prior and leaving behind a path of smoldering ash.
Coming to a screeching halt, a cloud of bronze-colored dust kicked up as he skirted across the rocky ground, the man's eyes would rapidly move between the beasts in order to at least assess their numbers, as well as get a general, though admittedly very much surface-level impression of their forms and capabilities. He could count four, though that didn't mean that there weren't more lurking in the area. Their massive bodies, undoubtedly 50 feet, perhaps more, in length, were somewhat flat and snake or lizard-like in shape, tinted entirely with an ominous charcoal black. Glowing eyes, alight with magical power, sat deeply in their reptilian skulls, and pairs of dark wings stretched into the sky from each one of them. As had been made abundantly clear, they also seemed to be able to breathe flame, a quite deadly one at that, the silver-haired Rune Mage thought, strong of smoke still rising from small fires that were consuming some of the already sparce plantlife of this desert.
With a flicker of magic and the glow of runic scripture on his right hand, a lance-like sword would manifest within the man's grasp. "Mars. Get ready", his voice rang out with a curt tone, addressing the Nephilim he served as a vessel. "Looks like we'll go straight into the actions this time". The Second Seal responded with a deep, growling cackle. Johann could imagine the kind of excitement the Lord of War felt at the prospect of a fight with such beasts. "Understood, tssehehe", the low voice would echo through the back of the silver-haired man's mind. It was good to have the Nephilim ready to fight, at least.
Picking the outer-most of the group, Johann's form would blurr in a burst of ridiculous speed, an explosion of redbrown dirt and dust thrown into the air where he had stood, catapulting himself at the creature in a burst of magical energy. Flanking the monstrous beast, he would come to a stop at its right side, placing the palm of his hand on the creature's rough, reptilian scales before unleashing the Mana he had been building up in a single, devastating blast with the command word "Force". The runes on his arm flared up, transforming the magical energy into pure kinetic force that gripped the wyvern's body, crushing it under the excessive power that would hit with the punch of a heavy impact, even for a creature of this size, before launching it off into the direction of the blast. Unable to react, the wyvern slammed into the ground with a thunderous crash, unmoving, dead.
A screech rang out to the man's side, his head instinctively swerving towards the origin of the sound only to spot another one of the wyverns, though this one had lowered itself onto the ground, its massive legs shaking the ground with every heavy step of its charge towards the Ambassador, it's maw wide agape with the intent to crush the man between its razor sharp teeth. The man grit his teeth, unable to react in time to dodge the bite of the monstrosity. He'd just have to face it, then. With considerable force, the jaws of the wyverns descended upon his form, though the man swiftly raised his free hand to prevent being turned into swiss cheese in a single instant, using his legs and arm to hold the creature's maw open, his expression one of visible strain. "A little bit of assistance would be greatly appreciated!", he would bark at the Second Seal, the Nephilim cackling in overt amusement. "Yes, yes, as always. Of course". Within a second, Mars would take control over the vessel, a broad, toothy grin spreading across the silver-haired man's face as he raised the blade, pointing it directly into the wyverns throat. Arcs of electricity would surge across the man's form for a few, passing moments before accumulating in the blade and, with a single, decisive attack, releasing a lightning bolt into the creature's body, the echoing rumble of thunder travelling over the surrounding area as the pseudo-dragon's body fell limp, the Second Seal leaping out of the death trap with an almost playful ease.
"You're welcome, vessel. Two down, two more to go, tssehe".
Word Count: 1,157
Personal Word Count Total: 1,157