Bialo raised spikes around them as they halted their forward advance and formed a semi-circle around Michael. Each guard prepared for battle by unsheathing their largest weapons--spears and halberds--while their horses stomped in anticipation of the coming battle. A tense silence took over the camp as the charging rams kept bleating wildly, everyone was ready for the first charge.

Michael noticed Bialo gather mana near him, waiting for the perfect chance. It reminded him of how he identified the ring of power given to him previously, that unusual darkness behind his eyes. Searching for it, he found it as it was the first place, though this time it showed clear signs of jubilation at being called upon. Pulling deeply, it came naturally to him--flowing without any obstructions to block its way.

With it came a certain arrogance Michael did not notice, an ease none would ever experience using skills, even this was nothing but a fluke for Michael. As such, he pulled on it generously, unafraid of any repercussions. Fortunately for him, such a spell has few if any consequences to the extreme usage. Instead, the longer he pulled from its seemingly infinite pool of energy, its analysis was made to be more in depth than before.

System ~

Creature Analysis ~

Carnivorous Grey Coated Rams ~

One of the longest-lived species of the world. From a time before the Eternal Elements, they lived in a world far more chaotic and dangerous, forcing them to evolve into carnivorous beasts that lust over any meal in their path. Lead by a single black ram, they prowl mountainous regions in hope to find solitary prey to feed their unending hunger.

During a charge, they are unable to change direction or target because of their crazed minds. They focus on their target and are unable to stop hunting until they are either eliminated to the last or their prey has been completely devoured.

Gasping, Michael refocused back to reality as he watched the maniacal charge coming in their direction. The rams made no effort to dodge or escape the spikes in their way, running head first at them. Grimacing, he had to wonder how they were even able to survive a decade with such narrow-minded assaults. Their chances at not becoming extinct looked to be extremely low, as in dodo bird low.

Looking back, Bialo finished his spell, holding it in wait for Jax's signal. As Michael continued to stare at the intricate spell spirals, circles, and shapes, it started to make sense to him. It began to speak to him in ways beyond language. Opening itself to his naked eyes without cover or illusion. Fire - Flames Roaring in Waves it cried to the world, exclaiming to it the uniqueness of its existence. Michael felt himself lose his focus on the majesty of the spell before him.

As suddenly as he fell into that pit, he found himself back into reality, taking a deep breath. The spell itself began to move towards its designated target, overly joyous to get the sparse seconds of freedom before it existed no more. Unfocusing on the details of what Bialo had cast, the overall picture became clear to him. A torrent of flames doused the lands before the earthen spikes, making a barrier not to be trifled with.

As the crazed rams continued the charge, the flames danced to a silent melody--their jubilation clear as day--, but it was outpaced by the sheer desire to burn the targets to nothing more than ash. The rams hit the flames with great force, almost blowing the fire out. Wool caught fire, scorching and scarring any it held in its grasp.

The rams' bleats of pain only increased as their fervor pushed them forward and directly into the spikes of earth. Many were killed upon impact and even more fatally injured, yet that still did not deter them from continuing. Bleeding and battered, they pushed forward ever so slowly. Only to be met with sharpened steel.

With bellows of war, Michael's Guard struck at the now broken mass of rams. Their charge had been forcefully ended, with no momentum and not enough space to generate more, they could not pose a significant threat to the well trained and skilled hands in his entourage. One by one they were slain with impunity, just as their crazed minds pushed them onwards for the prospect of another meal.

Stepping forward Jax swung in a lazy and wide movement, easily dissecting his foe. Further still he moved towards his goal, the only ram that seemed to have a sense of intelligence between them--the black ram. It stood with faux arrogance behind the rest of its kin, watching, waiting.

Bialo, on the other hand, had his hands full with a blue-tinted barrier of transparent material surrounding both Michael and Agata. Though he still sent the odd bolt of fire or earthen spike to help the others out. His job had been complete once he forced the rams to end their charge.

Agata had her hands firmly placed on the barrier, watching with a burning desire to join in the battle. Her pitch black hair swaying behind her from the currents blowing randomly. Unable to stay idle any longer, she turned back towards Michael with flames dancing across her body. A sure sign of her excitement if anything.

"Michael, we should be out there,"

"And do what exactly?" Michael replied, succinctly. They were the main weakness if there was one for his guards. Being injured could lead those protecting them to lose focus from an essential second of battle, causing them great harm in the process.

"Fight! We can't just stand around like virgins in a mill," Agata pleaded as she hopped from one leg to the other.

"Think about it, Agata. What happens if we get in the way?"

Unable to respond, she frowned cutely then quickly returned to her standing perch of watchfulness. Her eyes zeroed in on an unexpected battle between Jax and a certain black ram. Which ended just as soon as it started with a massive roar from the back end of their caravan. A certain, eternally irritated, serpent's stun caused the black ram--all others as well--to falter a step ending the entire battle all of a sudden.

Rising from a curled position on a massive auto-mobile wagon built by the handy Cyclopes, Senzard's facial features were dark and foreboding. His eyes scanned the battlefield, taking in their formation and the prone bodies of the dead and dying rams--their bleats of pain deepening his expression. His tongue flicked out twice, only for his body to blur and return back to its previous place with a black ram between its jaws, blood freely dripping from the large gash Jax had caused it.

Placing the ram in the wagon, his frown still hadn't disappeared, great displeasure on his face.

"Weak. Pathetically so. At the very least you can finish off the last few instead of leaving them to die long gruesome deaths. Isn't that right, ball of fluff?"

Getting up with a great yawn, Mister FluffBottom simply repositioned himself in the wagon. He could not be paid to show any interest in what he thought was a low-level battle.

"Lazy feline," Senzard cursed, adding a whole string more under his breath as he laid back down to savor his meal.