04-08-2018, 12:40 PM
Preparations took longer than the Arrancar would hope, or perhaps time flowed faster than he'd anticipated. Time was a fickle thing here in the sands or anywhere for that matter. He still felt well rested and yet here the sun was setting. He'd glance out into the camp yard, observing the civilians and their efforts. They were learning to use whatever weaponry they could find. There was a high chance they could be attacked if they marched in with only Serraph able to fight back. He couldn't protect them all. They would have to be able to defend themselves.
Therefore, Serraph had anyone with military experience step forward, bandit, guard, or otherwise. They all suffered here, he wouldn't discriminate their freedom. After all, the former bandits in the group were more than willing to teach the others. As for weapons, they picked the bodies and storage containers for anything that could be used to slay a man. Tools seemed to be in abundance followed by spears and blades. A few old rifles were found but ammunition for such was low in supply. They'd have to use those sparingly. A few shields were found but others were able to be crafted together with the material they couldn't use anyhow.
Each experienced fighter was given a handful of civilians to teach the basics of warfare to. They'd learn how to use the weapon and shield they were given and march in ranks. Surely they wouldn't be completely proficient, but even this small amount of organization would be preferable to a simple mob. Serraph had instructed them to place those with broad shields within the rank and file slots surrounding the formation. Guns and projectile weapons were a danger, but it would seem shields in this beautiful world were more than capable to stopping them.
The Espada would sigh, his gloved hand closing the entrance to his tent. His eyes turned to the half eaten body before him sitting peacefully in a puddle of crimson that pooled at his knees. Serraph's face was stained red by his rather messy meal. Serraph's former really did eat a lot prior to his death. How could he had fit so much in such a frail frame? The Omniverse held many mysteries it seemed. Serraph's silver, crestfallen eyes stared at the body. Its taste had been fairly nonexistent and what was there wasn't very savory to him. The former man was a sack full of disappointment.
His newly born Fracciones had scouted ahead, finding an ideal path for the civilians and perhaps identify any threats lining their way. From what he understood from the civilians, the safest place for them to take shelter was indeed the King's palace. Finding it wouldn't be too terribly hard. One would only need to just barely glance at the city to see its golden splendor. This Gilgamesh sure indeed enjoy his gold. The Espada would sigh and stand to exit his tent, his grip tight around his blade's scabbard.
The sky was already darkened. The soft orange and purple hues stretched across the horizon as the unforgiving sun dipped out of sight. The moon and its inciting light hung over head, dominating the sky with such beautiful stars. The boy stopped for a moment to bask in the light that only night could give. His papery flesh tensed then relaxed. His wound quivered as the sudden change in wind brushed over his tight bandage. A wave of dull pain ebbed from the deep would, a reminder of the importance of sustained caution until it healed. The bleeding had long since stopped and his strength had returned to him, but he shouldn't be fighting, not yet at least. His Fracciones would hopefully have cleared the way.
His hand clenched around the pale hair of the former Espada's detached head. His eyes of silver would gaze off into the city, waiting for the moment. Everyone else was ready as well with each man woman and child brandishing their weapons in earnest, unadulterated excitement. As the Espada and his company of armed civilians looked out into the dry city, pockets of resistance could be heard. Gunshots echoed over the buildings, breaking out over the dunes.
It would seem his wait was quite profitable indeed. From within the city a luminous ball of spiritual energy was fired up into the sky before exploding in a spectacular star patter. The blue light signaled that the area around the palace was safe. This was good and all but to be inspected. The king had returned and his guards had no doubt secured the perimeter around the palace. Another flare would be sent up, this one a bright lime hue. There were enemies but they had been dealt with. Serraph would assume this to be a small band of fleeing raiders. It was unfortunate that they'd been caught. Serraph could have used them for information. A blue flair would follow shortly after.
Serraph would step forward to the edge of the camp, his blade drawn and pointed towards heaven. A crimson mist would envelope his figure and emanate forth from his position. A small star of cardinal light concentrated itself upon the point of Libro, his blade, growing as its gravity drew in this mist. The small particles of his own spiritual power would swirl around this orb and pack down into it, causing it to grow in size until all of his spiritual mist had been devoured away. The orb would violently pack down, constricting and shrinking itself until not a sliver of crimson light could be seen. Serraph's eyes glowed in a radiant silver that pierced the darkness before him, casting its afterglow upon his wide smile.
"Cero~", he'd hum delightfully, releasing the restraints he had put onto this particular mass of power. A violent crimson bolt of Reiryoku would burst upwards into the night sky as far as the eye could see. It felt so wonderful to cast something as simple as a Cero again. As the jagged bolt soared through the night sky, he couldn't help but notice its draining effect on his body. The Cero seemed a bit stronger than he'd remember and its drainage on the Espada's body seemed much greater, similar to a Gran Rey's effect. Serraph knew he was quite a bit weaker here rather than home, but this was quite ludicrous. His smile tensed as he pointed the blade toward's the golden palace.
"Foreward! To Nippur!", he'd call, his command answered with a roar of acknowledgement. Home was right in front of them. Nothing would stop them from their return. Serraph stepped forward towards the great city, with the formation of rescued prisoners marching close behind him. His left hand clenched tightly around the former espada's head, keeping it close by his side.
All would see the face of the man who killed this traitor, even the traitor's former king.
Therefore, Serraph had anyone with military experience step forward, bandit, guard, or otherwise. They all suffered here, he wouldn't discriminate their freedom. After all, the former bandits in the group were more than willing to teach the others. As for weapons, they picked the bodies and storage containers for anything that could be used to slay a man. Tools seemed to be in abundance followed by spears and blades. A few old rifles were found but ammunition for such was low in supply. They'd have to use those sparingly. A few shields were found but others were able to be crafted together with the material they couldn't use anyhow.
Each experienced fighter was given a handful of civilians to teach the basics of warfare to. They'd learn how to use the weapon and shield they were given and march in ranks. Surely they wouldn't be completely proficient, but even this small amount of organization would be preferable to a simple mob. Serraph had instructed them to place those with broad shields within the rank and file slots surrounding the formation. Guns and projectile weapons were a danger, but it would seem shields in this beautiful world were more than capable to stopping them.
The Espada would sigh, his gloved hand closing the entrance to his tent. His eyes turned to the half eaten body before him sitting peacefully in a puddle of crimson that pooled at his knees. Serraph's face was stained red by his rather messy meal. Serraph's former really did eat a lot prior to his death. How could he had fit so much in such a frail frame? The Omniverse held many mysteries it seemed. Serraph's silver, crestfallen eyes stared at the body. Its taste had been fairly nonexistent and what was there wasn't very savory to him. The former man was a sack full of disappointment.
His newly born Fracciones had scouted ahead, finding an ideal path for the civilians and perhaps identify any threats lining their way. From what he understood from the civilians, the safest place for them to take shelter was indeed the King's palace. Finding it wouldn't be too terribly hard. One would only need to just barely glance at the city to see its golden splendor. This Gilgamesh sure indeed enjoy his gold. The Espada would sigh and stand to exit his tent, his grip tight around his blade's scabbard.
The sky was already darkened. The soft orange and purple hues stretched across the horizon as the unforgiving sun dipped out of sight. The moon and its inciting light hung over head, dominating the sky with such beautiful stars. The boy stopped for a moment to bask in the light that only night could give. His papery flesh tensed then relaxed. His wound quivered as the sudden change in wind brushed over his tight bandage. A wave of dull pain ebbed from the deep would, a reminder of the importance of sustained caution until it healed. The bleeding had long since stopped and his strength had returned to him, but he shouldn't be fighting, not yet at least. His Fracciones would hopefully have cleared the way.
His hand clenched around the pale hair of the former Espada's detached head. His eyes of silver would gaze off into the city, waiting for the moment. Everyone else was ready as well with each man woman and child brandishing their weapons in earnest, unadulterated excitement. As the Espada and his company of armed civilians looked out into the dry city, pockets of resistance could be heard. Gunshots echoed over the buildings, breaking out over the dunes.
It would seem his wait was quite profitable indeed. From within the city a luminous ball of spiritual energy was fired up into the sky before exploding in a spectacular star patter. The blue light signaled that the area around the palace was safe. This was good and all but to be inspected. The king had returned and his guards had no doubt secured the perimeter around the palace. Another flare would be sent up, this one a bright lime hue. There were enemies but they had been dealt with. Serraph would assume this to be a small band of fleeing raiders. It was unfortunate that they'd been caught. Serraph could have used them for information. A blue flair would follow shortly after.
Serraph would step forward to the edge of the camp, his blade drawn and pointed towards heaven. A crimson mist would envelope his figure and emanate forth from his position. A small star of cardinal light concentrated itself upon the point of Libro, his blade, growing as its gravity drew in this mist. The small particles of his own spiritual power would swirl around this orb and pack down into it, causing it to grow in size until all of his spiritual mist had been devoured away. The orb would violently pack down, constricting and shrinking itself until not a sliver of crimson light could be seen. Serraph's eyes glowed in a radiant silver that pierced the darkness before him, casting its afterglow upon his wide smile.
"Cero~", he'd hum delightfully, releasing the restraints he had put onto this particular mass of power. A violent crimson bolt of Reiryoku would burst upwards into the night sky as far as the eye could see. It felt so wonderful to cast something as simple as a Cero again. As the jagged bolt soared through the night sky, he couldn't help but notice its draining effect on his body. The Cero seemed a bit stronger than he'd remember and its drainage on the Espada's body seemed much greater, similar to a Gran Rey's effect. Serraph knew he was quite a bit weaker here rather than home, but this was quite ludicrous. His smile tensed as he pointed the blade toward's the golden palace.
"Foreward! To Nippur!", he'd call, his command answered with a roar of acknowledgement. Home was right in front of them. Nothing would stop them from their return. Serraph stepped forward towards the great city, with the formation of rescued prisoners marching close behind him. His left hand clenched tightly around the former espada's head, keeping it close by his side.
All would see the face of the man who killed this traitor, even the traitor's former king.
"Mine eyes hath seen the glory of the presence of my Lord. He is sifting through the treasures in which his Gates of Wrath does store. He lets loose the righteous vengeance of his terrible swift swords. Gilgemesh has returned!"