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Even as lava surged forth and coated the Titan entirely, blocking Hector's view of him, the young lord from Atreya was under no illusions that it was actually accomplishing anything.

Problem was, he didn't really know what the fuck to do.

'How exactly is this helping him?' Garovel was saying. He did sound a bit calmer, though.

'I gotta try and knock some sense into him.'

'That is NOT going to work, Hector.'

'Yeah, probably not, but this is the way it has to be. I have to get my ass beat.'

'Okay, but my ass is also here.'

Hector might've liked to respond, but even with multiple thought processes at work, all of his attention was stolen by the fact that he very abruptly sensed the Crystal Titan right behind him.

"Interesting technique," said Sermung.

Hector jolted away, flying and not stopping, hoping to create distance.

The Titan stuck to him like glue, though. Still not actually attacking or even touching him for that matter. Just keeping perfect pace with him. "That was more intense than I expected. What else do you have to show me?"

This fucking guy.

That aura was not so warm and friendly anymore. It was definitely confident, however. More than ever before. How could it be like that now when Hector had previously sensed so much self-loathing and bored angst? What sense did that make?

Perhaps it was just a mask, but it sure didn't feel like it. The guy felt smug as hell.

Which he certainly had a right to be, Hector knew. But there was just something about it that really pissed him off.

The Titan's aura was laughing beneath the fight. Wasn't this to remind me of something important? Seems more like you just wanted to fight because I got under your skin.

Maybe there was some truth there, Hector acknowledged. But I got under yours, too.

You flatter yourself. You're an amusement, not a bother.

Hmm. That actually gave Hector an idea.

If it was impossible to create distance, then perhaps barriers would do the trick. Walls. A full-blown maze. He'd done that before but not for quite a while. How much more elaborate could he make it now? He was keen to find out.

Soul-infused iron exploded into existence all around him, placing Sermung and himself into separate boxes, then adding more boxes around those. And more. And more. A fortress of cubes.

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"Hmph. You're not the most pleasant to talk to, either," said Hector. "It's like you've just decided on everything for everyone everywhere. You're not all-knowing, Sermung. That much is obvious. Even if you are the strongest person in the whole world, you're still just a normal guy, too. Feels like you've forgotten that."

Heh. This feeling. Oh, wow. How absurdly nostalgic. "Perhaps I have. And what of it? You intend to remind me?"

"...Maybe I do."

And when Sermung felt the first blow arrive, he was in equal parts annoyed and amused. Surprised and yet not.

The old masters, Osgar included, had often spoken of this. Of how some things could not be said with words, nor even with auras.

Only with ability.

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'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!'

Hector had been anticipating that reaction, but even now, he wasn't sure how to respond to it. He wasn't sure how to articulate a lot of the things that he was feeling, right now. Words. Aura. It didn't seem to matter.

But he was at least thankful that the reaper was keeping his rage within the echo of privacy. That was a good sign, he felt.

'He needs me to do this,' he tried as he soared through the air, building up speed and summoning all of his focus. Sermung was obviously giving him quite a bit of breathing room on purpose, and Hector intended to make use of it. That first strike, as expected, had done absolutely jack shit to the guy in his gleaming crystal armor.

'What?! Why?! Please explain to me why we are currently doing the stupidest thing we have ever done! Which is saying a lot, by the way!'

Hector stayed focused on the "fight" even as he tried to bring Garovel up to speed. He knew there was no point in trying to ease into things when it came to someone like the Crystal Titan. Holding back was just a waste of time. 'It's like his soul is dying, Garovel. I'm trying to help him.'

The orbital technique revved up quickly, perhaps faster than ever before--and in large numbers, too. And as soon as he could, he just let it fly. Cube after cube, filled with molten lava, firing in a machine gun burst.

And Sermung just sat there in air and took it.

Which was not a very encouraging sight, Hector felt.