No further words need to be exchanged, not that Azeraath has anymore to say to what he knows will be corpses in a few minutes. Since Azeraath didn't know their names and didn't care to find out, he mentally labeled them White and Fuchsia. He sizes the men up using his magical senses to determine which would pose the greater threat. He then remembers that out of his two pursuers, the man and woman from earlier, the one that had the greater magic was lacking in skill. Maybe in this world there was more to look out for than magical ability. He took in a breath and recentered himself as he dodged an incoming barrage of bullets.
The two men lunged at Azeraath as he evaded the bullets, their motions smooth and well practiced. Azeraath realized that the gunfire was to distract him and hopefully get him off balance. It did not work as he was fully ready to leverage every bit of his superhuman reflexes. The two monks broke off from one another to close him in a pincer attack and it took only mere moments for them to reach him. White jabs the end of the serrated ice saw which came to a deadly point at him in quick repetitive motions.
Azeraath easily and skillfully deflects the polearm expecting his sword to cleave the monk's weapon like a twig. However as his sword clashed he felt the same sensation as when his sword clashed with the war machete held by the male pursuer. It was something unlike anything Azeraath felt in his world, almost like clashing against an immutable relic, something even beyond the ancient Forge Masters of his world. The power in the ice saw was greatly muted as compared to that which resided in the war machete similar to comparing an ocean to a puddle.
Azeraath sensed Fuchsia closing in behind and used his magical senses which gave him an understanding of his environment to track the movement of enemies. Once Fuchsia was in position he did not close the distance to attack but instead stood back. Azeraath could sense magic billow around the monk then at his feet. He disengaged from White and jumped back as a spike of ice extended from the ground mere milliseconds after he moved. As soon as he touched the ground he once again felt the magic beneath him and he repeatedly had to dodge to keep from being skewered.
As he dodges one of the spikes, the end of the ice saw rockets towards him passing through the ice as if it weren't there. Azeraath twirls in midair using his momentum to evade the next spike while simultaneously catching the saw with his blade. The blade became stuck in one of the saw teeth as White also phased through the ice spikes much like the ice saw a smile on his face. White and his weapon are immune to the magical ice which to Azeraaths surprise allowed him to run through the ice as if it were not there. Azeraath concluded that it was all part of their plan to trap his sword and leave him vulnerable. As he landed he would have to choose to avoid the spike and lose the sword or get impaled by the attack.
Between the bullets, the spikes and the monks there was not much room for Azeraath to think. Instead he had to move on instinct and skill luckily for him he had skill to spare. As he lands he uses his superior strength to pull White with his sword closer to him he reaches out his hand with blinding speed grabbing the monk by the neck. He looks the surprised man in the eyes as emerald green energy flows from the sword to his hand then into the monk's body.
"Binding Forge." Azeraath says with bitter vitriol spraying the air.
In a breathless moment after Azeraath proclaimed his spell his emerald green energy wrapped White in a cocoon. The warrior was too low a level to resist the magic of a Forge Master the ice saw limply held onto Azeraaths blade without its master pressing the bind. Azeraath easily avoided the next spike and the few after as Fuchsia launched more at him more quickly in hopes to save White. In Fuchsia's desperation he became more predictable to Azeraath and much less of a threat, which only allowed Azeraath the focus he needed for the Forge Magic.
The emerald became more and more brilliant around the body of the dangling monk who offered no resistance. Soon the form of the monk in Azeraaths grasp began to collapse in on itself, folding with sickening cracks and pops as bone snapped. The body became impossibly small as the folding only increased faster and faster. When it was through the emerald energy stopped flowing and Azeraath held a bone white necklace in his hand. He could feel the new magic within the item he forged and only needed to place it around his neck to gain White's most impressive ability, at least to Azeraath.
"Casidy!" Fuchsia screams enraged. "What did you do to him?"
Azeraath laughed as he examined his works while lazily dodging bullets and spikes. He then placed the necklace around his neck and let the next spike impale him. The spike ran straight through his gut and out of his neck. Then more and more spike rose stabbing through Azeraath over and over until he looked more like an ice porcupine than a person. The laughing did not stop however as Azeraath walked through the ice spikes as if they were not there. He did not have a scratch on him as he again examined his new necklace. He then casually slides the saw from his blade and picks up the unusual weapon examining it for a moment before looking up Fuchsia whose face was twisted in tearful anger.
"You are next, Meat." Azeraath says as he points to the end of the saw at Fuchsia.
Fuchsia reaches into his robe and takes out what looks like the branch of one of the sevfal berry plants. His magic suffuses the plant causing it to grow rapidly around his body. The plant incases him in a living wooden armor. Azeraath could tell that it was not normal wood as the magic circulates between Fuchsia and the plant in a closed loop as if the two were feeding each other in perfect symbiosis. Only the gleaming brass knuckles were not encased in the wood armor as Fuchsia ran towards Azeraath in a boxers stance.