Once again with lightning streaked speed, Ezekiel dashed foward, his target being those bright, hateful amethyst eyes the Wither fashioned. He would blind the beast with his burst step at an attempt to handicap his already overwhelmingly ferocious enemy even further. Ezekiel swung the dagger in a broad arc for the first time, it was extremely light and easy to handle, this brought a wry smirk to Ezekiel's face as he entered Wither's threat bubble. The eye was in range, he would take it in one fell swoop...

Ezekiel: "What?!"

With an absolutely abnormal occurence, Ezekiel widened his eyes in suprise tinged with failure, he was so clearly young and inexperinced. Ezekiel had never once considered his own inadequacy, he had always been at the pinnacle for his age in terms of everything. From strength, to speed, to intellect, to decison making and leadership, he surpassed every village child and the majority of the adults.

There had been no one who could truly rival him, one who could point his flaws and mistakes, someone who could humble him. Hence, Wither would take that role upon itself, and would show the self indulged child how truly confused he really was. Ezekiel with an arch, swung at Wither, the eye he was aiming at had disappeared in it's entirety, he had follow through but felt no contact. Next, all the hair from head to toe rose as an alert to move, wether foward or backward was irrelevant, just move!

Ezekiel: "Hck!"

At a moments notice, Ezekiel retreated, his life was endangered, he had no choice but to concede ground, he bit his lip at this revelation. Wither before being struck had moved his head with an ungodly movement, seeing Ezekiel every inch of the way. Although Wither's movement with its legs were limited due to its own weight, swinging around limbs had no such limit.

Further refining itself with magic, Ezekiel had no way of taking Wither's eye due to his ignorance of the world. With momentum, Wither struck down mutiple times with it's arm like it was trying to eliminate a cockroach below. Dust flew in the air, covering the expanse of decay with an unseeable cloud, the amount that was shed from the ground would take time to blow away.

Wither, not wasting any time at all, refined it's eyes, allowing it visibility in the dust filled arena. Seeing Ezekiel hunched over with his palms to his eyes, it realized the strange cub had no access to magic. Chuckling internally at the inexperienced baby, Wither moved foward behind the veil of dust, looking to end the child while he was blinded, shamelessly so.

Wither had no understanding of concepts such as fairness or etiquette. All it knew was merciless murder and harm, wether the opponent was handicapped or not, wasn't any deterrence in the slightest. Having reached Ezekiel, the Wither was about to slice him into 3 slabs of fine meat, bones, and gore before the cub even realized what hit him.

Ezekiel: "As if!"

In renouncement of Wither's blind need to destroy regardless of any variable that shows it's face, Ezekiel uncovered his eye's which were shedding tears, straining them wide. He darted foward, right under Wither's paw which was on the verge of decimating himself beyond repair. Ezekiel sensed more paws coming his way, when in actuality it was merely two paws moving at a speed which rivavled or was possibly above Ezekiel's own movement speed. Zig zagging left to right in an evasive manner, Ezekiel couldn't allow a single hit to fully land, thats all it would take for this battle to conclude. But due to his own lacking self, the vibration of the ground stunned Ezekiel for a glimpse of a second each time, allowing wither to graze him ever so slightly. But a slight graze of Wither's abnormally sharpened claws left wounds on Ezekiel's torso and arms that would definetly scar.

Ezekiel: "Huff, Huff."

Having his shirt ripped to pieces, blood dripping out with each tear, Ezekiel couldn't give his cloths or wounds any mind, merely surviving the endless onslaught of life threatning blows which would leave Ezekiel maimed and obliterated took everything he had times a hundred. Ezekiel had to keep rising, there was no chance at victory, no shot at returning to the people he loved if he let his guard down even once. There was no room to cry like the child he is, giving into weakness was not an option. The distraught ringing In Ezekiel's heart would not calm itself, wrapping around his very being as if trying to hinder him, the feeling of inferiority, it was utterly vexing to the boy whom had never tasted defeat.

One after the other, despite the ground shattering and shaking, Wither didn't falter on any attack. It's coordination was clearly at the level of a beast, usually the prey is never as nimble as Ezekiel is and falls after a few trys. From it's perspective, all it could see was a silloute of the strange cub just barely avoid being struck each and every time, only slightly touching him with a claw or two. Lurching about with no other indication of being able to go on the offensive, Wither was starting to pant, exhaustion approaching with a heave of breathes clinging to it's chest. All the chasing it had done prior also contributed to the fatigue building up rapidly, soon it will be inevitable before a riposte happens.

Rolling, spinning, leaping, ducking, retreating, Ezekiel was imploring the little experience he had mixed in with natural talent. The veil had grown far denser than before, the land was filled with holes across the entirety of it, the battle had only been going for a few seconds which felt like hours to the combatants. The jungle was ever so silently observing the reigning racket echoing throughout the waning sky, caused by the two violent entities foreign to itself.

Ezekiel: "Urk. Move, got to, KILL!"

If there was a notion or memory on Ezekiel's mind throughout the battle which was creating a half ravine as it dragged on, it was over flooded by one thought alone. Kill, brutally murder with no fairness or logic to it, a simple insane, mentally unstable train of thought was drowning Ezekiel in a crimson lagoon. The need for blood, lusting for it for it like a savage creature, the child had absolutley no way of countering the emotion pushing him foward. His mind was already shattered to pieces which needed to be taped into place by a consciousness, thus rejecting what flowed into the cracks wasn't viable.

Little by little, despite his body degrading rapidly with each gash left by Wither's immense claws, Ezekiel's mind was honing itself. With the sole focus on the intention to harm another living being, the cracks were bein filled by that feeling and adjusting to the darkness. He was growing vastly impatient with his own aversiveness and weakness, now wasn't the time to be dawdling on such facts, now was a time to kill.

Ezekiel: "Ke."

Wither: "Arp!"

Ezekiel: "Keke."

In a sudden, unusually exceptional manner, Ezekiel swiveled on his heel, narrowly dodging a blow by a hair, with this momentum he bursted foward under Wither's body and struck with two crescents aimed at both of it's ankles. It was only a few scratches, he was far from matured enough to leave an actual gash on Wither's iron muscles, but these few scratches dropped wither to its knees. Wither let out a agonized howl, the pain coursing through its ankles shook its balance till it had none left.

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The bleeding won't stop, those two miniscule slices which didn't even penetrate a single muscle, barely cutting fur and skin were draining far more blood then they should have. It was as if the death god had whisked a blessing upon the strange cub, granting him an authority to carry out his own will on land. The claw, Wither had come to the conclusion of what was the cause of this over swelling wound which shoud be impossible for a cub like Ezekiel, the weapon, the power it holds, is devilish.

One would notice by merely glancing at it from your perpherial, even further, by merely being in the presence of the fiendish creation. The wounds inflicted by the dagger won't close, they will bleed on end unbiasedly until you die, Wither was finally realizing why he felt uneasiness at the sight of the cub, why he felt like he wasn't normal. It's because a cub should never uphold such violence and readiness for conflict, that unnatural sensation of facing a beast with greater potential than itself, a true monster like this world has never seen.

Ezekiel: "HAHAHAHA! MORE, BLEED MORE! HUNGRY! SO HUNGRY!"

Spittle flying every where, practically over drooling like one would after seeing an exquisite meal, Ezekiel one sidely stared at the blood which was constantly pooring from the scratches he inflicted. Having completely lost his cool, Ezekiel Malin adapted to the situation he was in unwillingly so, he started to transform into something much more heinous. Primal feelings of conquer approached, with this in mind, he burst forth.

Wither sloppily turned halfway but couldn't intercept Ezekiel on time, he kicked onto the side of Wither's rear while slashing and tearing at all flesh standing in his way. Screaming and yelling incomprehensible words as he was showered in blood that gushed and sprayed from all across Wither's left side, he was relishing in the torment and cowardice yelps of the beast that dared confront him idiotically so. The scars and wounds that had close reopened, the skin around them swelled and the grey fur was tainted with a dark shade of red. The hatred in Wither's eyes had wavered ever so slightly, giving way to a new, unnatural emotion, one that couldn't be forgotten or waved aside, it was fear.

Wither: "Yelp! Urp! Eek! Ick! Arp! Hmp! Heh! argh RAHHH!"

Ezekiel: "Rip! Tear! Slice! Take! Hurt! Wound! Kill! Tch."

Clicking his tongue, whilst in the middle of carving and brutally inflicting pain, Ezekiel sensed a speck of unknown force come from Wither's form, it wasn't the same as it's prior attack, it was the opposite. It was an invisible barrier pushing all from it's path including the floor wither stood on, completely burying the arena the two were waging war on. Wither with no way of matching or intercepting the strange cub, opted to restart from ground zero, while harming him in the process.

Ezekiel noticing the activation, kicking backwards with no clue for what's in store, held the dagger to his face to cover it from whatever was about to arise from Wither's form. To his dismay, he couldn't see it, all he could witness was the ground Wither pushed away in all directions like a sphere of viscious air expanding in radius with haste. The impact sent him flying towards the jungle, his body was punched from head to toe by gravity too strong to repel and propelled backwards.

Knowing his survival rate was low, Ezekiel forcefully spun his body against the current, shifting the quickly approaching jungle into sight, he stuck his dagger outwards in an effort to grapple onto a tree with his left arm slowing or possibly halting his momentum entirely. He swiftly decided even if he were to pop the socket of his left shoulder or worse, if he broke his left arm entirely, he still had his right to pursue violence.

Ezekiel: "Huh!"

Going past Ezekiel's imagination, the worst case scenario occured, laughing at Ezekiel for being so foolish, the dagger instantly decayed where it touched, carving a clean line through the tree which led to the momentum being unabated. Tilting his body upwards, Ezekiel prepared to land on the following tree with his legs, he had to brace himself and keep his legs intact, he had to or this would be his loss. He felt his heels touch the bark and instantly bent his knees, squatting as his body shook his skeletal system, he could almost hear a crack come from both of his legs and his spine simutaenously, buckling his body entirely.

Ezekiel: "Ah."

Falling while immobile, Ezekiel couldn't even move a finger after having his core shaken to such an extent to where he froze still. His entire body was searing, almost giving off steam, the pain omnipresent to Ezekiel pulsed all around him like a giant headache. Once his body dropped from ten meters high, he bounced and flopped off the floor twice. He wished he was never born, from the wounds on his chest, arms, and back, to his near shattered legs, to his mentally unstable mind, it was an existence which shouldn't be. The only thing keeping him from falling was the dagger emitting blood lust all across Ezekiel's being, making it the sole focus.

Wither entered the jungle from where Ezekiel was sent flying after hearing a yelp, which brought great joy and ease of heart to itself. He walked while looking around at the woolish vines which were draped all around, the trees with rough, firm bark upholding it from the roots of the earth. Stepping on bushes and flowers alike with a crunch, Wither kept striding foward, wanting to end things before it really died of blood loss.

Contemplating on wether the cub survived or not, Wither's vision became hazy and unfocused, almost making it go delirious. It didn't have much longer, the need to comfirm Ezekiel's death became urgent for Wither who was still oozing from his ankles and the scars of his left side. Then, Wither saw something, through the dizznies and disorientation, from the side of it's eye, a shadow flashed.

Branch to branch, from tree to tree, to vine to vine, they were everywhere, the unknown entities had wither completely surrounded on all sides while being barely away from sight. Wither assumed it was mutiple new foes due to the fact that they were on all sides of him moving too quickly to decipher exactly how many new opponents intruded. Waving its head from side to side like a deer in survival mode, Wither was cursing it's own circumstance, since it doesn't even know the condition of it's primary target. Thats when the unluckiness of Wither was made hilaruiously clear.

Ezekiel: "Here I come!"

Turning to the voice near instantly, Wither was in shock to see the cub flying at itself, blood staining his entire torso which was bare and wounding, a smile with gore all across his teeth, eyes which seemed to never waver, was Ezekiel. The dagger had numbed his own pain in order to allow it's host to keep moving, to keep going until the end, thus Ezekiel was still able to move as if he we're in peak condition. Before Wither even knew what happened, the cub took it's right eye straight and easily, disorienting Wither's sight even further. This made Wither wobble and shift, barely staying conscious Wither was on it's last legs.

Ezekiel rather than pursuing, opted to retreat and began prancing about the jungle once more, moving too fast to pinpoint his location. The sun peeked slightly, tuning into the fight which felt like days, but even this didn't give enough visibilty for Wither to target Ezekiel. It was starting to become desperate, death was knocking on the door, becoming impatient with the bear continuing to perisist beyond its own broken limits. Having far since surpassed them, having vanquished thousands of prey, Wither simply couldn't let this one go. He saw Ezekiel, despite his smile, was also on his last legs, just one more, one final push was all it needed.

Wither: "RAHHHH!"

Pushing the last of it's magic, of it's energy into one last catstrophic wave, Wither yelled out, letting go of every emotion, every thought, every intention with one final gutteral roar. It could hear the bells chiming, the door was creaking open slowly and eerily, as if giving it one last chance to verify the death of Wither's final and greatest opponent. Everything within a 50 meter radius was blown away, causing heeping destruction increasingly farther than just 50 meters, rather extending hundreds of meters out. The entire east wing of the jungle was completely devastated like a wasteland created by excess radiation and corrosion. It looked around, basically blind with a headache worth dying over, there was nothing but silence, nice, tranquil, blissful silence, a silence so welcoming to rest it almost brought a tear to Wither's eye. It's done, the fight to the death has finally concluded, Wither has...

Ezekiel: "Wither!"

Wither: "!!!"

Ezekiel: "IT'S OVER!!!"

Looking far above, to the near orange sky which was illuminated by the half way risen sun Wither stared in awe. Even though Wither gave it everything he had, despite his rigorous pursuit of violence, instead of being granted food just like every other time before, a new reward was being handed at this moment. Time slowed for Wither, anxiety grew to the point of sickness, all that was left was an unsteady fate, granted to him by a cub, by a baby.

Embarrasing, utterly vexing, curseful and unfair in every right and demeanor, how could somthing like that even exist? How could such a creature which laughs away death with a shrug possibly be? Why did such a creature have to come face to face with Wither? All these questions spiraled in Wither's head despite it's lack of language, in a way only it could understand.

With that, Ezekiel descended upon Wither, landing right on it's forehead, dagger forced a break through on a spot in between both eyes. Ezekiel found such a spot once he stepped off it after taking Wither's right eye, realizing it avoided being struck in the face for this very reason. Imprininting himself on the Wither, Ezekiel thrusted his dagger in forcefully with both arms, causing wither's head to fall onto the floor of the crater it created.

It's final tomb having been dug by no one except for Wither himself, blood sprayed with the pressure of a water fall. As it's body was draped by a growing coldness, with it's life slowly dimming out, through it's left eye, Wither opening his eye despite the heaviness, saw Ezekiel. He was no longer smiling, a somber expression over took the boy's face as if bidding Wither farewell reluctantly. With no room to act shocked, Wither accepted the farewell, as well as Ezekiel's final words as it's eye closed, and it's life ended peacefully to the ultimate predator, a true honor for Wither.

Ezekiel: "I won't forget you, for as long as I live Wither, don't worry any longer, your fight is over, that is all."

Speaking the only truth he was sure of at the moment, Ezekiel closed his eyes and bowed his head while he was on one knee atop Wither's wide nose. Wither closed it's eye, which in turn, closed Wither's book, his long journey of carnage, was over. Ezekiel had spotted a look in Wither's eye which was unlike the others, it was a look of desperation, a look only something with nothing to lose would give.

That was queue to escape, but Ezekiel won't flee without prospect, not when his own body was feeling the same urgency as Wither's. So he rapidly climbed with the few seconds he had left, managed to escape the bubble of devastation, and premptively strike. Thus, solidifying Ezekiel's first victory through Mortal combat.

Ezekiel: "Huff urk. I can't stop, cough.