BSD
Administrator
Listen Here!
What was it exactly that the King desired? It couldn't possibly be more infamy, could it? After all, he truly believed in every proclamation he had made thus far. There was no one greater than him, no one worthy of batting an eye to. At least not in combat. He wasn't sure when this feeling of loneliness had come upon him, but he was certain that it was something he'd known his entire life. Being alone wasn't something he fancied, yet he continued to push others away. Caught up in his own pursuit of power, he was now... Alone. Yes, that would be the fitting word for it. Even with his clashes against Vincent, his self-proclaimed "father," Enrico felt nothing. All that came of these matches were a disappointment on both ends. For Enrico, the idea of a God-King was preposterous, yes, but it was a challenge at the very least. Despite how much he despised fighting, it seemed as if his very soul yearned for it. A feeling that he couldn't fend out had blossomed from within. Yes, this was starting to make sense to him now.
With the new prospect for the ridiculous title around, Enrico was enjoying himself. This was a newfound feeling. Warmth had found itself invading his heart. Perhaps it wouldn't be wrong to say that he was happy at this very moment. A peculiar sense of happiness, undoubtedly, but a sense nonetheless. It was hard to keep his exterior from exhibiting emotion. He wouldn't allow himself to suppress his feelings at this moment. Whether or not he wanted to continue fighting was something he was still unsure of. This didn't mean he found his opponent to be stronger than himself, nor did he doubt his own capabilities. Instead, this meant that he had found something worth savoring. A battle that finally appealed to him. Another intelligent being with the strength to back up everything he brought forth. Not once in his life had he known such a prospect. No, he didn't consider Vincent to be the same as this one. Before him was sheer talent, the likes of which he had only acknowledged within himself before.
The Gemelos Sonido are dispersed, but they don't leave in a manner that allows Max to swat them away. No, Enrico's technique wasn't just special in its application of tangible after images. The literal sound from his clones being dismantled was more than enough to not only break the Hierro of Max given his close range, but it also made him subject to an internal attack. It seemed as if the two of them thought in a similar way. Perhaps in another life, Max had even been an advisor of some sort. Or maybe, the two had stood at equal footing as they were now. Was this to say that Enrico was challenging him for the title? No, not at all. As his body is flung away temporarily, Enrico's face paints a rather clear picture. A rather unique radiance presents itself alongside his amber orbs. The two work together to really show off Enrico's beauty as his hand clinging to his sword acts, withdrawing it from the sheath just before he is fully thrown back. Even if he had decided to do this after the fact, the idea would've remained the same. Although they are not on the ground, Enrico's sword strikes the air as if they are. Reishi plates have formed beneath him, acting as a substitute for the ground in order to slow him down. Given his strength and the amount of spiritual energy he put into making the plates, this circumvents the potential damage that the man could've inflicted upon the False King's insides and bones given the force at which he was thrown back. Whether or not he would still fling Enrico despite the sonic booms that were formerly known as after images was highly likely. Those below would not only have to worry about the Cero from the Vasto Lorde, but they would also have to worry about their ear canals rupturing and their own body being attacked by the ridiculously loud sound waves coming from the 4th Espada's clones. This further drilled home the fact that Max was not in the safest spot.
As the Fourth Espada stops himself from traveling the projected distance, he takes a look at Max while remaining conscious of his surroundings. It was smart of him to not bring the Espada near him. He had already taken into account his aspect and potentially deciphered what it was capable of. Whether or not the others have done the same remains up for inquiry, but he doesn't doubt Elliora in the slightest. Without looking at the signature of spiritual pressure, he still "looks" at it as white lines appear before him. The one coming from Helliodoro is large enough to warrant terror from others, but not from the King himself. Should the Cero come towards him, he will find its entirety broken down and assimilated within one fell swoop. Yet another instance of the battery and conduit had presented itself. Although it would have been fairly easy to recoup and attack the prospect before him, he elects not to. With a beam still plastered to his face, he observes his every move. From the gathering of his own energy to the movement he makes when speaking to Enrico, he doesn't fail to enthrall the Espada. Even before the plume of fire clears, Enrico can already see the prospect in all of his glory. It seems as if he has ascended to the heavens, but he knows this to not be true. A small cackle finds itself erupting from the man just before the prospect speaks. Truly, he had gained the attention of the Espada—undivided and not aggressive. If there is more for this man to say, then it shall be acknowledged by the King of all worlds. After all, the strong are allowed to speak as they please—even if they're deluded.
"You are nothing but the dirt beneath my feet, only existing to breath life into the seeds I plant."
Hoh, that's a fun one. But he's not done speaking. Even if he's not done, what excuse has he come up with for calling the False King dirt? What reason could there possibly be for him referring to the man in such a daring way?
”Dirt, yes that is what you are, however, kingdoms are built upon fertile soil. A kingdom can cultivate much from this fertile soil, it extends out and helps those who gather to grow as well. Fertile soil does not need to do much in order to bear fruit, mi amigo. Merely existing is enough. A king is not a king without a kingdom, without subjects, without passion nor goal. Without these things, Enrico, a King is but a man.”
Ah, there it is. The explanation in all of its glory has come forth. It has been made clear that Max was indeed listening to Enrico despite his actions. A sudden realization comes upon the man as it's made clear that he wasn't listening to the prospect clearly. Perhaps this is why he jumped to such a rash decision. His sword remains sheathed now as the prospect continues. His words are wise and not unheaded; he seems to know what it means to be a King after all.
”Enrico, the time has come. Our new chapter, our new destino."
There is something about his intonation that resonates with the Fourth Espada. This is a chance to have something he didn't have with Vincent. A true challenge whenever he wishes. Someone capable of backing their words and ideals with their intelligence and strength. Neither would be neglected. This is a feast indeed, Enrico notes to himself while he listens as he watches the man's Reiatsu pool around him yet again.
”I am your brother and your new blessed God.”
Perhaps saying he was Enrico's God was too far, but alas, it's not this that sticks with him. It's his proclamation that he is Enrico's brother. The well of loneliness within him seems to have dried up and been replaced with excitement as his own Reiatsu flares, clashing with the prospect's once more. This time, however, his malice does not exist. It does, however, threaten to harm those below them as it did before. Alas, he cares not.
"What a speech, Maximiliano." A tone with a high degree of respect echoes from the Espada as his smile still persists. For one reason or another, he doesn't seem keen on fighting anymore. Instead, he continues to speak despite the threat that looms above them. He's not worried and it appears as if the prospect isn't either. This is how things should be. The strong can speak without interruption.
"I accept your proclamation, brother. But I want you to know that the moment I catch you slipping up... The moment you falter while wearing that crown that you have anointed yourself with..." His words grow bolder as he speaks, his radiance falls on Max like poison now, as his intent becomes clear.
"Is the moment that I'll have your head."
