Power.
It was such an intangible thing. Sure, one could covet it in terms of property, wealth, and the like, but power in itself was immeasurable. There was no scent, no taste, just a raw upsurge of insatiable feeling that flowed through every vein in the body, infected every thought, daunted every footstep. And as of this moment, the prince had to
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Still, he was never one to leave the interesting alone, and a blond on a warpath... well, it could never be said that he had it in him to ignore one of -those-.
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"Schneizel el Britannia," he introduced himself from afar. "You stand as an obstacle to the world they desire. As such, you will be eliminated."
A near feral grin stretched across his face then. "My apologies. That's not what you were expecting, was it? Perhaps that was impolite of me..."
Bowing awkwardly as he began to approach, Schneizel just continued to grin. "Please, accept your fate, and this will go much more smoothly for the both of us."
Schneizel had no idea who he was addressing, but he was about to find out. He raised his rapier high above his head...
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And with that, he continued marching forward, so far no worse for the wear. There was no style or reason to his form of combat; simply the urge to murder, kill, slaughter.
It would likely be his own undoing instead.
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"All I care for is the reformation of this wicked world," Schneizel proclaimed, before he picked up the pace, charging the unwelcome visitor with his own blade pointed foeward.
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