-- SPEAK OF THE DEVIL [OPEN]

The sound of metal against metal filled the air. A single glistening flicker of pure silver swung itself down in the arc of the crescent moon. Pressure cascading down upon the metallic beast that stood as an opposing force before the Daimyō. His hand remained pure, steady in its resolve and motion despite the shaking bladed-arm of the creature. "Sorry kid, did you think that'd actually scratch me, or was it just hope?" Games were to end at that moment. A snap of the wrist was all that was needed for the sickly broadsword to slice forward. The cascading blood only met its match with the flurry of words that would come to be from the lips of the weaker beast. Begs for mercy, depredation of its injury and insult to the mighty Vasto Lorde. With a sense of mild disgust he watched as the hollow begged for its life. With a sigh, the rush of energy the Vasto Lorde had experienced fled from his body and the katana was sheathed. The moment the lip of the scabbard met the guard, however, his dulled eyes would slowly look down upon the stained grains of sand. The arm removed from the shoulder of his opponent with a mere flicker of power. "Run. I don't feel like cleaning this damn thing." The beast would run. Its fate no longer a concern for the lord as he turned his back to the pathetic creature and its display. He Wasn't as much of a devil as his appearance would lead one to believe.