Kashiron was sitting next to his second seat on the building’s roof. Malvena’s non putrid air smells nice and doesn’t try to rot someone’s nostrils. Vavaria is Norvori’s fraternal twin, strawberry colored hair, emerald eyes, nice rack, childbearing hips, and soft facial features. Black hussar jacket, dark blue pants, red scarf flowing around her arms and waist, tabi socks, and waraji sandals.

He puts his haori on Vavaria’s shoulders, given the fact that Jayagitsu likes coldness. A white silhouette butterfly fly between them, Kashiron wonders who is here. Before pushing Tsagulsa down as Kashiron ducks from Gernibel’s Regalia, and draws Frigus Tempestas from his back.

“I have to get close or else I’m going to have a hard time against Broń Boża. I could make thick walls to buy some cover and use Mico Motus-” Kashiron was caught off from the Primera slashing horizontally on his shoulder. He rethinks the already flawed plan considering it can increase and decrease in length.

“Shit! It’s just shallow so I am probably going to be fine,” Jayagitsu remembers some redundant words. “Don’t jump in the air or stay in one spot. Pizarro weapon has an advantage over how fast Broń Boża thrust attack is.”

“Why Gernibel? What is the reason for you doing this!” Vavaria shouts filled of sorrow, clutching the undamaged haori still resting on her shoulders. He tries to kill Tsagulsa but was blocked by Kashiron using all of his unrestricted strength to stop it.

“Alright, I will tell you,” Gernibel says, opening his piercing silver gray eyes. “I’m here to save Vavaria by killing Jayagitsu.”

“Run, Vavaria!” short one rushes to Pizarro’s side cutting the arm countless times. He sheaths Tempestas and lands a right hook to Gernibel’s kidney, given to the height difference. Adding another punch to his sternum before knee kicking the arm holding Broń Boża, cracking it.

He outstretches his arm as ice begins to encase it. Both of them realize the moisture in Malvena’s air is how he forming an ice clad gauntlet. Kashiron does one-inch punch, severely damaging him and the wind feels frozen as its resonating from Jayagitsu’s uncontrolled rage. She runs away feeling selfish but understands her General’s selfless order.

Gernibel grasp the area of where he was punched desperately trying to breathe. But all that achieved was futilely suck in wind flowing with super cold ice. Another same punch to the throat would definitely kill humans, but Travelers aren’t the same. His carotid artery feels compressed and torn like ripping paper.

Nobody came up to their institute’s roof, as if the fight wasn’t even going on. Jaya throws a jab at Pizarro’s forehead and follows up with some type of unknown punch, where one thrust their closed fist in their enemy’s sternum then put the index and middle fingers out before impact. It can make an individual shatter into bricks from the amount of force packed into it.

He jumps back outta of the midget’s range but feels his entire body being cut. The technique converts wind pressure into being razor sharp so even if an opponent dodges from body destroyer hit, they have to worry about the wind between their enemy’s fingers being fired horizontally, vertically, or diagonally. Kashiron unsheathes Tempestas and stabs him completely while sighing in relief that Pizarro’s not wearing Viajero’s haori. Dealing with Saige is absolutely terrifying if a General gets their coat all damaged directly or indirectly and doing so results in being disemboweled, ripped apart, mutilated, burned alive, and flayed since Travelers can’t get sick or die from natural causes thus making them immortal.

He counters an attack and lodges Broń into Jaya’s abdomen. His guts spilled out onto the floor where they dangled making Gernibel pause in fear as he remembers hearing Vidar strangling an enemy, crushing their neck. Looking around for a manic trying to brutalize poor people. Kashiron cracks realizing it’s an illusion as Frigus stabs his heart.

“You always had it easy! Prodigy this, prodigy that! You’re the epitome of having life being too perfect!”

Kashiron slices nowhere but dodged from an attack specifically meant for his head. They realize both of them can’t breathe the air so either one is going to fall unconscious or suck in the hypothermia filled wind. Jayagitsu doesn’t let him smirk so he adds more ice, it encases parts of their bodies.

The oxygen is being frozen, this could kill an entire country if left unchecked. He is willing to bet that Travelers who can withstand the effects of it is helping keeping it localized. After they instantly figured out this is Kashiron’s doing, probably going to receive a harsh reprimanding from Saige or Sandy. Children, the weak, and the elderly would’ve already been dead right now.

He delivers a fierce uppercut to the jaw, cracking it ever more lightly. He slashes across Gernibel’s eye and forehead, letting hypothermia in the vital parts where it can enter the brain. Gernibel realizes he needs to focus his Jenseitiger Druck on those two wounds.

Jayagitsu does another one-inch punch on the solar plexus, Pizzaro felt like throwing up and passing out. He can’t even see clearly or stand, another punch between the eyes. His gut is saying that if he takes anymore, he’s actually going to die.

“Gernibel, what are you, idiotic? I suffered everyday during my childhood when I was still a human for losing everything precious to me during past bloody wars. Then when I became a Traveler, all of my friends killed themselves because they couldn’t deal with survival guilt and I wanted power to make some type of change. All of that failed causing me to get manic melancholia because no one was there ever considering that I needed help as people thought it was just a jest. The Director from four hundred winters ago somehow got rid of the melancholia, lended a supporting hand, inspired me to do the absolute best, and as he was laying in his deathbed says this, ‘I want you to follow these words: follow true to your heart, be something I couldn’t ever be, go past your development as a individual, train to the point of people falsely considering you a prodigy, and never fall into egotistical arrogance.’ those words forever changed me.”

He coughs up blood, surges forward filled of killing intent but Sandy stops the two.

“Wow… and here I thought rooftops were for love confessions? Damn those foreign books! Gernibel, are you defecting ‘cause if so,” Sandy says, attempting to release his Regalia, “I will slaughter you.”

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The ninth General tries to flee but he stops before frantically clawing at his own throat in attempt to get something dangerous out. White liquid foam seeps from damaged dead skin cells and splotches the Hussar jerkin, that asinine smile finally disappeared and panic took its place. Kashiron looks at Sandy, who is sitting there nonchalantly, it’s like if this doesn’t even bother him at all. Painful groans fills the air and there’s foam leaking outta Pizarro’s mouth while pleading to Sandy, who loosen his Jenseitiger.

Out of all Travelers to arrive, nobody would’ve expected Sandy, the most ridiculously powerful commander of Viajero. He’s the second oldest, right behind Saige, it’s quite hysterical to think that the most respected leader is not a Sternritter.

“You won’t stop me! I have one last thing to do!” Gernibel takes off, heading south towards anyone. Kashiron throws Frigus in Pizzaro’s back, and chases after him.

“Intercept him, now! We must not let Pizarro travel to that direction!” Sandy commands, hating for the fact, he’s crippled. Along with everyone still in Viajero’s institute, run after their Ninth General, as a cloaked figure slips pass the gates and goes to Bellion’s division. He kills two normal looking Travelers standing guard in front of invaluable objects.

“Ahh, there it is, Orbe de deseos. I can do anything with this miniature orb along other justifiable actions, million thanks,” he blocks an attack behind him from Vidar, surprised at who the culprit is. “Of course, I shouldn’t even be surprised that you would appear and use underhanded tricks. Your creation simply had a malfunction in the process, thinking that it’s ok to do dirty tactics but you appear rash and weak.”

“You talk too much to give me a migraine hangover. Just like listening to your own voice, is that it.” Vidar throws another attack but feints as a thrust. The figure slashes Tacticun’s dominant leg, intentionally trying to hit the vital artery behind everyone’s kneecaps. Vidar retaliates by striking their coronary artery again and again, wanting to reunite with his children.

“If I like my voice too much, I would marry it but maybe you should know about what just happened to Simo. This is a bleak world and you’re intimate with it. Here’s something very invaluable, a good villain doesn’t need complex motivations, tragic backstories, or a lifelong goal, a villain does what they want and be evil because being good is unfulfilling.” the figure says.

He smiles as mercury stabs him, rows, tons of rows of feigned memories depict his family being raped and killed, he sees himself strung up. His throat cut out, his entire body burnt to absolute nothing, impaled by multiple stakes sticking out of the pole, and his entire body being torn to pieces by a rack. Then being flayed alive, brazen bull after having his skin stripped off, bloody eagle, and having been mutilated by having organs ripped out. Vidar can actually feel all of it, he feels the cruel mockery, the painful looks on their face, and seeing them die over and over again. Kill, slaughter, rip out their insides and choke them with it, mutilate, burning them alive to complete ash, and finally rinse and repeat.

“Oh, you are so dead.” he takes Purgans hilt out from his chest then bashes it against the intruder’s head repeatedly. The intent on brutally killing this person is immense where existence itself became all static.

He clashes against the blade creating omnidirectional sparks, tearing their clothing. Vidar drops Purgans, its sticking out of the ground, now he’s playing with his life. Even though Tacticun’s main reason to fight the stranger is to see his kids, he can’t seem to help it by gambling his life on this death battle. He’s smiling even without the influence of Hvithar, it’s like Vidar’s only purpose is to kill him.

The guy pulls out a war hammer smashing it against Vidar’s ribs, rupturing lungs, and actually hurting him. It pack the force of cannonballs, he couldn’t even breathe so Tacticun decided one best after another is to not breathe and if he starts blacking out, his friends will help him.

“Is this dumbass fucking insane?” The stranger mutters, Vidar actually looks offended. He stabs the palm going up to the forearm then swinging his leg sideways to his head, cracking the skull’s right side.

He lands a punch so fast and so hard that it shatter everything behind the stranger, it was unbelievable on how much power he’s packing in those punches. Vidar then uses all of the momentum and his weight to drop his body to the side, which he used it for a fierce jab to Grimm’s kneecaps. He chokes back a gasp, while realizing Vidar is intentionally aiming for the pressure points that hurt the most.

“I fucking heard you! Pulling a cheap dirty trick on me and I expected a fair match.” he says, before he can retort, Vidar actually aims for his dick. Grimm jumps back and harden all the pressure points to nigh invulnerability with Jenseitiger Druck, something Vidar was playing dumb and lacking strategies for this.

As he goes for the diaphragm knowing the stranger just harden the points and then tilts it up right before impact, right to the heart and lungs. A rod of mercury goes for Vidar, who dances around like water when it curves, he grabs it and impales Grimm in the right lung with his own ability. Vidar has an expression of disgust and are you fucking kidding me look.

“You just tried to castrate me, oh, I’m going to wipe that smug smirk… stop smirking! Forbidden technique: Schwarzer Kreuzsarg!” the stranger put his index finger up. A big black coffin traps Vidar, crosses spout out at the top, drawing everyone’s attention. Making all Traveler flash movement there as space cuts Tacticun all over and Sandy jumps out drawing his Primera, putting a Flammae Gehennae bullet of absolute fire to pierce the coffin. The technique shatters like glass and he’s literally shredded cheese, Tacticun’s kids screech in bloodcurdling screams, Grando was still wrapped in his father’s cloak.

“Get back you four! Who the hell are you? What was in there, Bellion?”

“Oh no… do not tell me if that’s Orb van wensen.” Bellion mutters, as their intruder flings the tattered all encompassing cloak into the sky.

He puts his hand out, revealing it, “You are most certainly right. Good job, Bellion, you’re smart considering you of all people made this. Precious little thing, the ability is undoubtedly noteworthy, you were too soft to fully utilize it. Now watch as this destroys the world you love so-”

Grievously injured Vidar can barely stand up with the Ninjato pointed to the ground and slumping. He charges forward slashing but stopped by a fingertip before being bisected at his heart alongside Vidar’s weapon, he keeps getting back up albeit with some struggle.

His whole body is screaming to stop for once. Hell, even Hvithar is afraid at the rate of Vidar is likely going to die. He is stabbed in multiple arteries with surgical precision, so fast than the fastest reflexes.

“Such a shallow attack, I am disappointed by you.” he says, destroying the last remaining shattered pieces of his Ninjato. He thrusts his arm back to which Purgans flings into Vidar’s grip and swings back, creating a massive crater behind him.

“And you’re a little baby back pussy who needs to have common sense whacked into your brain. I’ve had enough of conversations of this and that, I need to kill to silence this voice in my head. Where’s Gernibel, that sly failed-” he cuts himself off.

“Did you know Strife is probably being sold to an equally shittier person than Rondell.” he says. Vidar jumps on him and proceeds to pummel Grimm, cracking the ground while sending little vibrations to Jollorus’s core. All that is going on in his mind is instinctual killing, haziness, confusion, and is utterly pissed off. Purgans looks like it’s going back to its original state from Vidar’s strong emotions.

His wrathful bloodlust restores Purgans piece by piece and debates about it. The tattered jacket exposes one half of his arm, he points the tip forward at Grimm, releasing Jenseitiger as it tears the coat apart.

“Vollversion,” Vidar shouts, making a tornado pillar. He wears long sleeved, heel-length black red lining coat closed at the chest, left to flare out in ragged ends, and bandages covering the entire left arm while also his neck to hips. There’s small patch of distinguishable white hair resting above his right eye. Purgans is that longsword adorned the with Cross of Jeremiah as its cross guard when Vidar fought Hvithar. “Tenso Mondzahn!”