Astaroth
i think i'm the devil in disguise, here's my state of mind
It is no surprise when the fire is wielded exactly the way Asta utilizes it — a mastery that he personally prides himself on, meeting Deimos’ exquisite utilization of the burning power. It weaves and curls, and with it the steady ground beneath him. He tries to craft a wall of it, to hide his movements behind the brilliant flame, aiming to try and crouch and sneak closer to the Sword in the attempt.
He doesn’t anticipate that it will go well, but there’s no harm in trying. At the very least he can’t burn. His clothes can, but the man beneath them would survive, rising amongst the flames.
The fire itself casts a flickering shadow on the volcanic earth, and should Asta get close enough, he’ll keep that fire wall up as much as he can, aiming to strike out with the blunt edge of the cane against the Sword’s ankles.
He doesn’t anticipate that it will go well, but there’s no harm in trying. At the very least he can’t burn. His clothes can, but the man beneath them would survive, rising amongst the flames.
The fire itself casts a flickering shadow on the volcanic earth, and should Asta get close enough, he’ll keep that fire wall up as much as he can, aiming to strike out with the blunt edge of the cane against the Sword’s ankles.
give me destruction, tell me i'm scrumptious
i'm a fucking delight
i'm a fucking delight
