Space tore and from it stepped a black robed figure holding a teapot. Crossax solemly walked through an area that had been blasted to glass and cinders by holy light. It was not the first such sight he had seen, nor would it be the last.The sounds of battle where barely audible in the distance where the Red Swords clashed with Hyser infantry. Crossax advanced until he stood above a particularly undamaged spot, the eye of the storm. He set his teapot casually on a bit of space and knelt, the tea pots bronze side a glimmer as it sat upon the space behind him as he checked the state of the two magi motionless before him.

One of them lay, a silver blade pierced to the hilt through his heart. The simple enchantments on his robes shattered and a slight burn around then, but far less damage than one would expect from taking a spell imbued sword to the heart. Crossax glanced over his shoulder to where a chunk of the mountain that was in line with the swords point was gone. "Madness or genius?" Crossax mused aloud as he carefully slipped his mana into Briox's body, a feat that would normal require a healer with their specialized training, but was simple due to the lack of mana in the form that lay before him, the only remenants of it centered around his brain and spine. Crossax carefully, very carefully prodded at the mana surrounding a certain fools most vital organs. The mana weak as it was pushed back against the intrustion, resisting the foreign mana with a will, Briox lived. Crossax sighed and continued talking to himself and the unconcious magi "Most magi strive to ensure they never run out of mana, but of course my masters last charge is an idiot. Mana starved twice in the same year, once from overwork and another due to suicidal battle tactics". Crossax carefully began to pull Briox off the inqusitors blade before setting him on the ground gently. He reached sideways his hand reached into one of the castles storerooms and retreived a white sheet that he carefully wrapped around the mortally wounded Briox. The sheet was a magic item that would isolate and preserve anything it was wrapped around, it should serve nicely for a bandage. Now if only it could fix idiocy though, Crossax mused technically since he lived it would be genius not madness?

Deciding to leave it undecided for now Crossax looked off into the mountains, his eyes glancing for a moment at something far away. Then he turned his eyes to the inqusitor before him. Briox still had hold of his blade, and Crossax had to remove it from the inqusitors side to move Briox away from him. But now that he was away he could see the injury that Briox had dealt his foe. Enchanted chain mail was broken, the rings sheared by inhuman strength. The wound was large and deep, the blade managing to force its way through the inqusitors flesh as easily as his armor. A shocking result if you considered the resilience of an inqusitor, an even more shocking was how the wound had not recovered yet. Crossax inspected the wound with cold eyes, even without investigating with his mana he could see from here the reason both for the inquisitors grave unhealing wounds and why Briox wasn't evaporated by his attack. Nearly the entirety of Briox's mana was lodged into the inqusitors chest. It lashed out and struggled with the inqusitors own mana and even though it was losing the battle inside his body was damage the inqusitor even now. As for the attack that should have obliterated Briox to beyond the point of recovery? It had simply penetrated through his unprotected human heart until it struck something resilient enough for it to trigger. In truth for such a clean wound if Briox had not thrown all of his mana into his attack and calling Crossax, then even he, a magus apprentice on the brink of ascension could have healed the wound. He wouldn't have been combat able, but he could have.

Crossax frowned, or as close to a frown as he was capable of and turned back to look into the mountains. It was nearly time for him to go. With a sharp glance at the inqusitor he turned and waved his hand at the space before him, a tear appeared and he stepped through. The tea pot flew off the place he had set in and settled on Briox before both lifted up and flew through the rift. Behind them, on some distance away where the goblins and soldiers fought a gigantic rip appeared in the sky and swallowed everything on the mountain path. Supplies, living, dead, human and goblin, it all was swallowed up. Moments later in the small town of Rifthollow a rain of servants and soldier dropped from the sky. It was possibly of note that the soldiers tended to fall from higher heights, and onto hard rooftops, but that was surely a coincidence. Back on a mountain some time away, the tears in space sealed themselves seamlessly as a being in black robes left, this time with a bit more than a tea pot beside him.

As the rifts sealed a glowing missile flew through the mountains impacting the ground where the inqusitor had fallen. A Hyser angel of war stood there, its shining form marred by the streaks of blood and a black rose, seemingly imprinted on his chest. It yanked a few thorns from its side and growled in annoyance as the rose pulsed interfering as he sent mana to the various injuries he had suffered. "Empire damned curses, and curse you fool" The cold voice of the angel echoed in the mountains as it grabbed the inqusitor. A quick mana search later, and the angel snorted. Its meal had been interrupted, someone had tried to poison it, succeeded in cursing it with this annoying thing before they ran, and the inqusitor he was meant to safeguard was mortally wounded. The angel took off, quickly vanishing into the horizon as an imperial inqusitor dangled by one leg in his grasp, even if the brat died he'd just bring him back.