Balthazar, Fei Xian Zi

Balthazar woke with a violent start. From flat on his back, he rolled up onto his shoulders and launched himself off of the ground, up onto his feet, a feral snarl on his lips and a vicious look in his eye. You see, he shouldn't have woken up at all. The simple fact that he had been, only moments ago completely unaware of his surroundings, was an unacceptable and dangerous surprise. From the time he sat down in on his folded bedroll in the mass hall where they had gathered the new students to the school and entered his usual deep state of restive meditation, he should have been completely and totally aware of his surroundings. That simple, solitary fact that he had actually been asleep this early in his cycle meant that something was drastically wrong here.

So it was that, in an instant after he became aware of the incessant beeping of... something, Balthazar Raghnall Kael was on his feet in a defensive crouch like some wild animal. An instant later as the tall young man's blue-gloved right hand whipped up to his shoulder that his expression of rage flickered to one of shock and, half an instant thereafter whipped into one of a violent fury... His sword was missing. Left hand clawing up to his chest, he confirmed that the scabbard of Sicarius was still mounted to his torso. That, however, was of little comfort as he was still missing one half of his weapon. Simply put, whoever had done this to him would have found it just short of physically impossible to remove the scabbard and its, oddly metal, form fitting strap from the red-head's torso. Without a direct command from his aura, the piece of equipment simply would not let go.

...Unfortunately, the sword was under no such lock and key.... ...Maybe it should from now on... He'd have to look into that prospect later, however. ...Yknow... WHEN HE FOUND THE DAMNED THING!

Ba'al's neck cracked as his head whipped back and forth, his blue-green eyes searched for hi-... oh. There it is. His sword was attached to a small satchel off to his left with another pack sitting just next to it. Practically gliding across the ground, Ba'al cleared the distance in a single swift step as his hand finally found what it was looking for: Sicarius' hilt. Wrenching it away from the pack, Ba'al's vehemence in the inspection of his blade was unmatched by anything he has ever exhibited before.... He was positively furious.

However, he and his six-foot-three frame would visibly calm as he commanded both the hilt and the blade of the katana to open and he confirmed its status as intact as it had been when he sat down to rest. He was still pissed, though... and what, in THE bloody hell was that damned BEEPING!? It was... coming from ...his pocket? Wut?

Both the blade and hilt of the sword closed with a clack and a ticking hiss respectively before he whirled the blade around in a circle and thrust it back into its sheathe where it belonged. Reaching down, he pulled a bizarre tube of sorts from his pocket and examined it. It was definitely the source of the beeping, but how the f-...? Oh. Ba'al pulled the device apart at it's halves and the beeping stopped as it opened. Immediately, the message began to play as the still incensed man stared at the foreign device with a distinct crease in his brow and a tight set to his jaw.

As set which grew and grew as various muscles on his body began to tighten individually as his anger, which had somewhat abated, returned anew with a burning intensity that, likewise, grew and grew as the message carried on. When it finished, his hands pressed together, closing the device. His blue gloves closed around the tube and slowly began squeezing with increasing pressure as a vein rose to the surface of his flesh and began pulsating on his neck. After a few moments, the devise began to creak under the pressure as Ba'al's rage brought a violent shaking to his upper body.

Through tightly grit teeth he growled: "I am going to ****en' gut whoever is responsible for this ****e... like a pig... with me ****en' TEETH!"




Forcing a deep breath, he released as much of the tension that had built up within his body as was physically possible at the moment. Enough to actually get a look around the place that he found himself. A rather spacious cavern that was... oddly well lit considering there didn't really seem to be any specific light source. He was in some kind of cave or something.... Wait, did that thing say pairs? ...Oh, son of a bitch. There was someone else here. A relatively small girl with white hair....

With a cursory, analytical visual once-over of the female figure some twenty feet from him, the decidedly aggravated expression on Balthazar's face summarily melted away to expose one of sheer and utter disappointment. With a sharp flick, his head whipped around and his violent sea-green eyes stared straight into the camera, across the vast stretches of the interwebs, out through the monitor, and directly into the eyes of whatever gratuitous dunce had decided that that pitiful excuse for combative failure would make a suitable partner for the kill happy Hunter 'in-training'. With a clear voice, a patently 'Irish' accent, and as sincere a tone as he could physically muster under these unacceptable circumstances said: "****... that...." and, with a precise turn on his heel, immediately began marching off in the exact opposite direction from his supposed 'partner'. ...Which just so happened to be directly in the direction of those packs where he'd found his sword. Hands firmly planted in his pockets, each pointed and deliberate footfall onto the unevenly water-saturated dirt evoked a flat, slapping sound not unlike the shards of a certain shattered fourth wall striking the floor. Needless to say, Balthazar Raghnall Kael was not impressed.

As he approached the satchel and the other bag, the speed demon sighed audibly. This was going to suck severely. Honestly, if he had known that he was going to have to go through some asinine garbage like this, he probably would have said screw the academy and stayed the hell home. Reaching down with his left hand after depositing the device into his pocket, Ba'al exhasperatedly scooped up the bag and started rifling through it. "Are they feckin' kiddin' me?" He muttered to himself. "All that's in here is another set of me ****in' clothes." Not bothering to stuff the clothes back into the bag properly, he slammed the whole thing back into the dirt before spinning around and forcibly plopping his ass down onto the bag with another audible sigh that filtered loudly through the hands which he pressed into his face.

Though he could hear the milling about of this partner of his, Ba'al sat there, unmoving, as he thought on all the violent fates that he would visit- nay, RAIN upon whoever had put them in this situation. While he had visibly calmed, he was still fuming about the entire situation. After the girl moved behind him and began sifting through her own things, he debated getting up and starting to assess the situation in greater detail. However, considering what she had been wearing while she was still lying in the dirt, and considering what exactly had been packed into his bag, the girl was most likely getting changed. Getting up now would add a level of headache to his day that he was just not willing to put up with.

And so he sat. Listening. Waiting.

Until, round about of a sudden, the girl asked him if he was alright.

Whipping into a frenzy of action, Ba'al rubbed his gloves back and forth over his face and through his hair, inhaled deeply, and sprang to his feet. "Oh, aye. I'm just feckin' fine." He said aloud in sarcasm to the open cavern as he had yet to turn around. "These prickbastards knocked us the **** out, threw us into who-the-flyin'-****-knows-where corner of hells arsehole, and gave us vaguest orders to find our way out." Somewhere in there, the tall man turned around and began slapping dirt from his form that he had, until now, ignored. "And now we've ta wade through ****e infested water into some blackest abyssal **** and stumble our fool way out!" As loud as he was, the cavern was echoing with his accent.

"But me? Oh, no. I'm right as feckin' rain, lass." Balthazar's voice quieted again as his sarcasm hit peak intensity, blue gloved fists planted firmly into his hips at his white belt. His head was cocked at an angle as his piercing eyes ran her over once more. She looked more the part now, but he still wasn't impressed. He was supposed to spend the next four years with this girl? ****. Sighing slightly again, Ba'al stepped over his bag and walked past the girl. As he did, the most of a foot in height difference would become all the more apparent to both of them, regardless of whether either of them actually cared. Hand reaching into his pocket again, the red-head opened the scroll and began to suss out just how it worked. Touch screen, ooh fancy. Statistical data, bloody hell. No map, why the hell would they? ... Grimm and partner lists. Hmm.

Ignoring the partner lists as they didn't matter, the young man opened the Grimm file as he came to a rather precipitous halt at the edge of the deep water that started off into tunnel. Reading them off in order listed, "****e. Ooh, that could be fun. ****e, just avoid the damn teeth. Aanndd, mostly ****e, deal with at range." His voice was just loud enough to hear as he summarily dismissed all four of the aforeanalyzed Grimm as either complete non-entities or as mild entertainment. Crazy? Probably. But it didn't make it any less true.

Closing the device, Balthazar stuffed it into his black shirt where it would sit rather snuggly against the metal strap across his torso. At the same time his right hand would draw his sword out and whirl it around in an overly complicated pattern. "Grab the lamp, lass." He said in a calm tone as he found a spot at the waters edge where he could stand firm and dry.

Once he found said spot-- a large, mostly flat stone-- the blade of his golden katana split down the middle and a pale, crackling electricity shot up the length.

When he heard her stop and wait, Ba'al turned his head to glare at her out of the corner of her eye. Mostly, he was wondering why she wasn't grabbing the lamp. Then, of course, he saw that she was readying herself for a fight. ...Well, he supposed that was an acceptable alternative. He was counting on whatever happened to whatever was in the water being closer to dead than not but, he too would be ready for the distinct possibility that these beasties, the leeches or... well, whatever else wouldn't be so easily dealt with as a rather high amperage blast of electricity being cast into their habitat. Still, if the Grimm were going to be in that water, and you knew they were, then they might as well be some semblance of closer to dead than full health when they mounted their attack on the duo. Right? Right.

Wait... not right? You don't agree? Well, too damn bad.

Shifting his weapon from vertical to horizontal, the purplish-blue crackling electricity would seem to be increasing in volume and intensity over the course of ten seconds while the tall red-head stared his partner in the eye with his left one. Crouching a bit, Balthazar adjusted his footing so he'd be in a better position to dive the hell out of the way of anything that might just jump out after him. Another ten seconds passed and the blade of the sword could barely be seen past the evidently building electrical charge. That was just one of many features Sicarius had. And, while Balthazar was oft loath to reveal things to anything or anyone that wasn't going to be too dead to tell its and/or their buddies about the piece of equipment, the sizeable red-head had dismissed such reservations. He couldn't hide his abilities from her for four years.

Balthazar's gaze left the girl and his head turned back toward the tunnel. "Ready?" He asked. He didn't wait for an answer. With an absent flick that was still faster than the untrained could follow, the blade was lashed outward, and some ninety percent of the electric buildup that had engulfed the weapon was launched out at a descending angle. It would strike the water some ten feet out and issue a tremendous electrical charge in the surrounding drink.

Before the charge even struck the water however, the blade was already back in its previous position, and the scarred arm that held it was coiled, ready to swing it out again. This time, however, it was only charged for a scant three seconds before a decidedly smaller blast was launched seven feet away. Another was launched an additional set of three seconds later at four feet away. Finally, Balthzar lifted his arm, downturned his weapon, and stabbed the building electrical charge into the narrow end of the drink only a couple of feet away from himself.

All the while, the speed demon's greenish eyes were locked onto the surface of the water. Ever scanning for disturbances that weren't directly related to his weapon. If he needed to defend himself, he was plenty ready and more than willing.

The steam that issued from the water was disconcerting, but the electrocuter didn't flinch as an additional layer of stink washed over him, carried on the mist. It smelled... like successs. And... yknow... burnt flesh. As the steam cleared, a small frown reached Balthazar's lips. Either those were leeches or they were already running into beasts that weren't included in the manifest. And the latter prospect meant that he had less information tha- Ba'al's hair whipped about his dome as he flicked his head over to look close at the long creature that slithered about. 'So they can ****in' hide, can they? Damn.' Even if those were, in fact, the sangueteeth, being more or less completely unable to detect them until they latched on was... quite frankly unacceptable.

Standing up and backing away from the edge, Ba'al flicked the excess water from his sword as he resumed building electricity for a shot. Turning back to the girl, he watched as she went about her business. Doing what, exactly, he couldn't decipher until lept up at that spear of hers. The frown on his face intensifying into over exaggeration, his brows raised and his expression shifted into what we of the interbutt know as a 'not bad'. While it didn't speak to any possible abilities she might have, it did speak to ingenuity. And while using your own weapon as a platform wasn't viable in combat, momentary transportation to complete objectives worked... quite well, evidently.

Ba'al held his expression as she landed, though it faded into a more neutral one when she stumbled and bumped into him. He didn't move, but he did have to hold his sword out away so she didn't electrocute herself. ...And him, subsequently. He simply raised a brow at her small apologetic action before turning back to the task at hand. By now, his sword had built a forty second charge. If those other shots of lightning had killed a few, this would likely take out the entire population. And he wasn't done charging it yet. "Don't know. Even if these ****in' things are the leeches on tha list, not bein' able to see 'em is a problem." He didn't even know if she had looked at the list yet.

Reaching up with his left, he scratched his mostly hairless chin. "Goin' straight would probably be best. Straight run'n'all. But without a clear look down each shot... **** if I know." For once in his life, Balthazar was actually being careful. This wasn't a combat situation, this was a SURVIVAL situation. And he didn't like it.

Without warning, Ba'al launched the-- at that point-- fifty second electrical charge into the water eight feet away. As the massive blast, some three times bigger than the initial one, hit the water, ending the pitiful lives of as many of those freakish things as physically possible, an idea struck him. "Might just get that look down each, yet...." After all, he did have more than an electricity crystal in that thing.

PFFFFF. Now why in the hell would they want to do a damn fool thing like heading into the unknown? Drawing the whole lot of everybody and their grandma down those halls would bring the Grimm out into that big ol cavern they were in, leaving plenty of room to slaughter them all one by one. And that, right there, sui--...

What? No? ...Okay.

Balthazar frowned pensively once again as the hissing and the steaming and the stinking came to a general cease despite the severity of the blast he threw into the water. That confirmed it. It had been coming from the eeleechwhateverthehell's. The question was, why did they exude so much filth upon their more than timely electrocutionatorial death? He doubted that that was a simple virtue of incinerating lifeforms within water, but then again one thing he had never done was shock an entire ecosystem out of the water before. Still, he couldn't help but suspect that there was something about those particular fish that they issued such a smog.

Ba'al continued to think as the girl walked up and posed her question. "I might just, at that." he answered cryptically as he held his sword up at an angle in front of her. The electricity that had crackled up and down the blade for the past couple of minutes was now gone and, for a few moments, nothing issued from the hilt into the gap in the blade. Out of what seemed like nowhere in particular, condensed moisture began to fog off from the blade... then small crystals. Balthazar had switched to ice dust. Oh, yes... he had quite a few in there. Five, on any given Sunday. The first four were oft the same. Fire, ice, lightning, energy. The fifth was something of an unknown quantity, however. It depended on what flavor the red-head was feeling for any particular hunt. He hadn't found one consistent one he was satisfied with.

After ten seconds of the ice building in his blade, Ba'al lazily flicked the weapon outward, firing a condensed blast of magical ice into the water just off shore. The surrounding water would subsequently harden into a sizeable platform of ice that, with repeated uncharged shots, grew into a relatively even ten foot diameter disk floating a few feet from the water's edge. Aside from being somewhat pressed against the slant in the earth, the platform would be free floating. "Provided it don't get much deeper than four or five feet, I figure you can ferry us around on that, there." He motioned vaguely with the tip of his chillt gilt blade. "At the very least it'll get us sittin' at the crossroads long enough to make a bloody informed decision."

He didn't count on the platform lasting forever, but he could maintain its structural stability with his sword. Worst to worst, they could jump in later. Quite little difference, there. He only hoped they'd get to something dry before they had to fight anything more than fish in a barrel.

With a few steps jog, a step into the cold water, and a small, careful hop, Balthazar hopped onto the ice platform which moved thankfully little. Additionally, the disruption the dust impacting the water had provided enough of a varied surface that, once frozen, wasn't too smooth to stand on. Once the girl did the same, she'd be able to push them along the tunnel to the fork. After all, the only other alternative was to swim.

Well that wasn't quite what he meant by ferrying, but it was working. If somewhat slowly. While the white haired girl was propelling them, Balthazar was simultaneously keeping an eye out for trouble and periodically throwing small blasts of ice at their raft. It was much more stable than it looked; The whole tip of the iceberg thing. Still, he wanted to make sure that they'd be as secure on this monstrosity as was possible. That entailed icing up the edges as the water melted them and touching blade to the bed of the thing itself to reinforce the sub-zero temperatures of its core. This, unlike the fishy genocide, was something he'd done once before. Though that had been a venture out in the open, down a free flowing river, and decidedly without company.

When their floating got them down to the crossroads, Balthazar made quick to analyze their options before they reached a point where it would be difficult to mark their decision. Upon inspection, however, the scarred red-head threw up his arms in exhasperation. They all looked about the same, truth told. No clear way out. No clear way up. No visible landfall. "Well that was certainly no ****in' help...." Shaking his head, he walked over to the left side of the raft. Closing his blade for a moment, he used his large reach to lash twice into the stone wall just before the opening to turn left. A simple arrow that pointed straight across the intersection. "Straight it is, lass." He said as he carefully stepped back before the raft unbalanced itself.

Once they crossed over the openings for left and right, he performed the same cuts on the opposite side of the left entrance. Once again pointing the way toward the direction he'd chosen. This way if they needed to double back or, indeed, were forced to double back by that turn up ahead, they would be able to suss out where they had been and had yet to go. "****in' mazes these damned caves turn out to be. Gimme a murder of ****in' Nevermore any day of the week." He muttered to himself as the blade of his sword opened once again. Truth told, the only reason he bothered closing it in the first place was to avoid imparting ice dust directly into the walls and breaking off more than he'd intended.

While they weren't making the best time, they were making progress. Personally, slow and dry was better than fast and wet. Ba'al was of the same general opinion. He was also of the opinion that their speed was largely irrelevant as long as they got where they needed going. ...Problem was, neither of them knew where they needed to go. For a moment the red-head wondered as he tapped his blade to the center of the raft again, reinforcing it's chill, whether or not they would have to blast their way out of here. He more or less assumed that if the bastards managed to get the duo down into that pit, there must have been a more normal way to get out. Their simple presence here did not, however, disclude the possibility that they were somehow teleported down here, and that there was no easy exit of any kind.

As they reached the far end of their straight path and the course turned left, Balthazar sequentially reinforced the front of the raft and manually turned the structure with a strong, gradual push against the wall they were heading directly into. This way, their pilot could focus on propulsion rather than direction. Once that was done, Ba'al reached into his shirt and drew out the device once more. They were doing nothing at the moment, so he might as well explore the thing. Right? Right.

Since he'd already committed the listed Grimm to memory, he decided to have a glance at the partner lists. There was only two names he vaguely recognized beside his own: David and Rainer. A midget with a metal arm and someone apparently fond of strawberry milk had approached him on the day of their arrival ...Which was yesterday, he supposed. Off handedly, he wondered if the purple wall with the spear and the blue skinned old man were down here somewhere. That, fortunately or un, led to the ponderance on if any of those aforementioned four would end up being part of this... bizarre little team he seemed to be amassing.

Speaking of 'this' and 'team', Balthazar locked eyes on his own name, then over to that of his partner. Fei Xian Zi. His brow creased as he tried to suss out just how the bloody hell that was pronounced. ...Speaking of this Fei, Balthazar meandered carefully across the raft, brushing the ceiling with his left fist which had since closed the device. "Mind yourself, lass." He said as he motioned for her to move away from that back edge. He had yet to reinforce it and, barring the water around it spontaneously freezing up, he needed to tend to it lest Fei be dropped into the drink.

Once they were more equalized in terms of balance, Ba'al would crouch and carefully drop a charge of ice dust from his sword into the water immediately off the back edge. This would lengthen the platform slightly and give her better footing to work with. He'd then motion for her to move back as he'd move forward once again.

She may have felt insignificant but measuring herself up to Balthazar was something of an unfair yard stick. The red-head was already a seasoned Hunter with close of a decade under his belt despite only being nineteen. Most students, regardless of age, had little practical experience in the killing of Grimm and other such things upon joining the academy. Balthazar on the other hand had been more or less forged in battle. Furthermore, these were not conditions your average Hunter had to deal with. This sort of survivalist nonsense would normally only be given to the experienced when the Grimm needed to be tracked down. One that didn't make itself readily accessible for slaughter.

They had yet to even fight down here. So far it was all a matter of preparation and ingenuity. Not skill.

As far as Balthazar was concerned, as long as Fei was half decent with that spear of hers once they did start fighting, she: a quiet partner who could follow orders competently without irritating him, was infinitely preferable to... pretty much any other general archetype. The loud, boistrous type would probably end up getting a sword through the face; especially if they were incompetent. The overly friendly, talkative type would likely get a swift kick in the groin, regardless of gender, to shut them the hell up. The proud, stubborn type was... absolutely useless to him and would likely be stabbed. The headstrong, leadery type... well, they would probably be somewhat acceptable as long as they could actually handle themselves in a fight.

Of course, the combat skill of any of the aforementioned, little Xian Zi here included, would play a temendous role in whether the speedy asshole simply tolerated them or actually liked them to some degree. But, again, that aspect had yet to come up.

Looking ahead, Ba'al leaned aside to let the light from his partner's hip spell out the path forward. ...Wait, what? "....Tha ****? It turns left again." He commented with confusion coloring his accent. Near as he could tell, the left at the initial cross section had been a straight, uninterrupted run for something in the neighborhood of a hundred feet. And yet this path seemed to curve directly into it. Something was clearly wrong here. "Slow us up a bit." Yes, even slower than they already were. Pretty much a drift at that point. Regardless, he wanted to be ready for whatever was around that corner.

As he shored up the left, right, and center of their raft again, Ba'al considered all possibilities of why this path would do what it seemed to be doing. One: there was a drop ahead that went under the other tunnel. Two: there was a climb exactly opposite of option one. Three: the entrance to this curve in aforementioned straightaway was partially disguised by angling in said straightaway. Four: That left ahead was more than a little deceptive on its own and it turned back to the right suddenly. Five: Whatever had made these tunnels-- it was unlikely that, in their uniformity, the water had carved these-- had decided to stop just before it broke through the wall and they were approaching a dead end. ...And six: Whatever had made these tunnels-- quite possibly that giant mole Grimm-- was taking a nap at the end of that turn before continuing on its path.

It was that last option that had Balthazar's sword now building an ever growing charge of ice dust, ready to freeze somebeasty solid.

As they floated slowly down the line, Ba'al glanced down to the water then up at the ceiling and spread his footing slightly. He honestly didn't know why he was anticipating something waiting around that corner. Maybe it was something primal; an understanding that the air felt wrong. Maybe it was simply a lack of better ideas to explain the phenomenon that was confounding him.

Either way, he was ready. Either way, he was almost disappointed when they reached the corner itself and he peered down the tunnel revealing that it was, in fact, option four that he had considered a few moments ago. The tension that had creeped into his stance melted and his head cocked to the side. There was nothing there. Just a thiner wall than possibly was structurally sound, another turn into parts as yet unknown, a deep unsavory rumbling overhead, and a few rocks falling from the ceiling and splashing into the water.

...

****.

"CAVE IN! BACK!" Balthazar shouted to his partner as his entire form suffused with a subtle, pale, golden glow. He whirled around and, unsteadying the raft, bolted with unnatural speed for the edge that had not yet been obscured from the previous hall. If Fei had not yet gone into action by the time he reached her, which was altogether likely considering just how fast he was moving, the red-head would scoop her up by her middle with his free left arm and leap with impressive force from the edge of the raft that would, at that point, be teetering on a threat of capsize.

At the same time, the ornate, gold and black scabbard mounted to the scarred man's back began to unfurl and deploy tiny metal plates of like color that quickly slid across his body. If they were about to have tons of rock drop on them, his armor might just define the difference between life and death. Before he'd even hit water, the cybernetic suit had engulfed his torso and legs in those tiny plates. By the time he hit the surface of the chill water and began to sink, the cavein would hit its critical point.

Behind him, the ice raft was impacted and nearly split in half by the massive rock, its structural integrity held only by the sheer, glacier-like thickness of it below the surface. When the massive creature fell after it, however, the boulder would be driven through the dust creation, leaving massive, jagged pieces of ice in its wake that would likely stab up into the underbelly of the Grimm.

As Balthazar would hit the bottom of the tunnel through the water, optionally release Fei, and spin back around to face the collapse of the tunnel, his suit would finish sealing up around his arms and head. Blue-green eyes and all other countenance replaced by glowing red lenses and the intricate golden helm of the true form of Sicarius. Hidden though they were, his eyes still widened as they were laid on the creature that could be nothing but the Burrowham. As much as he relished the opportunity to fight such a creature, these cramped tunnels were not the place for it.

"Back!" He'd shout to his partner even as his right arm swung over his head, casting the huge, thirty-some second charge of sparkling ice dust directly at the face of the beast. Though he had not yet taken account of it, the deluge of water and whatever else was raining down out of that hole in the ceiling-- including the water spread across the Burroham's back-- would be frozen solid in mid-air. In that moment, Balthazar was glad he called the slow down. They would have been hard pressed to have made it past that beast before it came crashing down. "Lure the **** back to the cavern!" He'd shout, continuing on his vague command of 'back'.

Balthazar looked on with a degree of confusion at what was unfolding before him. The sizeable beast was roaring and squealing and whatever else it happened to be doing in pain. He looked down through red lenses at his sword and his sword looked back up at him. It was just as confused as its wielder.... The ice blast shouldn't have caused the creature that much distress, should it? No, certainly not. It was big enough-- and presumably strong enough-- that it could break through the ice without excessive effort. And it was also presumably used to low temperatures down here underground unless they happened to find a heat vent. Had it landed on something?

The Ice dust in his Sicarius' blade faded and was summarily replaced with Energy dust. A dark red light suffused the length and then some of the blade in what would seem to be a structure not unlike a light saber, though it wasn't nearly as intense as all that. The Energy dust of Balthazar's sword was used as a direct extension to his blade, elongating it for additional maneuvering room in battle. Apart from the blasts fired from the weapon, it acted more or less as such: A longer sword.

Looking behind himself, seeking to give orders to Fei, it required a double take for the armored combatant to realize that the girl was no longer behind him. ...Or anywhere near him for that matter. 'Well, she can certainly haul arse when she wants to....' That was fine, however. He worked best alone.

Flicking his gaze back toward the Grimm, Balthazar took a closer look at the frozen water above and around the Burrowham. In addition to the long, thin, red structures, there seemed to be an unnatural shimmering that looked not unlike the creatures he had already annihilated in these waters. The question was, were these shimmering things the Sangueteeth? Or were they an unknown quantity? The message had said something about 'at least two' unknown monsters beside the listed four. Were those the camoflauged fish? Or were those the red things in the ice? Perhaps it was both, but then where did the leeches come in?

While he was thinking about all the various possibilities, Ba'al's right arm flicked two swift slashes at the air before him launching crimson arcs of energy, each roughly eight inches long and half an inch wide, in an 'X' pattern. They would score nasty cuts on the mole if they struck-- somewhere around its head--, but it was little more than a grab for attention. To lure it back to their waking point as planned.

Immediately thereafter, he launched himself backward through the water and landed within sight of the original hall. Looking left, he held up an armored hand to Fei. He would be the bait while she lay in wait to attack when it came close.