The knight was in a tight spot–literally. Caught between the equally intense infernos and a fireproof tree, the knight struggled to climb his way into a clear consciousness and stand clear of the fire at the same time. Sweat constructed above his brow, dripping down through both barriers, and deep into his darting pupils, stinging his eyes closed for a moment. The heat of the fire which had not bothered him as it exuded from the trees was significantly more distasteful than the current heat that was roasting the knight through his armor. Clutching Rising Tide, the knight made a quick spin against the tree–leaving his right arm in a worse state than he would've wanted. Though the fire hadn't melted the metal all the way through, due to the enhancements it had received recently, it still blackened over despite the oppositely colored flames and even became slightly encumbersome, much to the knights dismay. At least his arm of shadows couldn't be damaged by such a flame, which was a relief in this moment of chaotic turmoil, but there wasn't much time to consider the situation; the fire was getting hotter.
The clammy feeling of sweat on his face and the burning in his eyes grew more intense as it stretched across his body. Sweat continued to drench him as positioned his hands in places that made the most sense in the small section of the tree he had to work with. He would've tried to simply tackle the tree until it uprooted, but he got the strangest sensation as he nearly positioned himself shoulder first, it was like he was being stared at–not like the curious gaze of the darkness, that had stretched across the vast distance he had traveled, but it was more akin to a blazing frustration, almost like a wrath-filled smolder from the sun high above that froze him in his place, so he quickly scrapped the idea, not wanting to draw the ire of whatever was currently watching him. The creeping chill in the twister of fire was quite the odd sensation the knight did not want to taste again. With rising Tide clutched in his right hand, the knight lashed out with his left fist after jumping a small distance, before plunging his sword-filled hand into the charred remains of the tree he had his back to, securing his position in the wooded wall, though there was no time to sigh in relief, though he was still below the tower walls of fires' great height, the flames were both moving up with him, and begin to go inward–they adding pressure–now the escape really mattered.
The birds of the second layer stared with their unreadable–animalistic gaze, almost akin to a scornful remark or arrogance as they watched the human scramble to climb his way up through the fire, letting his arms hit the fire gave them a sense of the creatures intent and strengt–though they didn't seem to particularly understand the true depths of the knights raw power–the power that could uproot the forest given the chance, so they only continued adding pressure.
The knight was in a tough spot. The nearest branch was some distance above him, but that wasn't the issue, the issue was that the knight could not actually climb up it as it was directly above him, and he didn't have enough space to cling his way along the side, unless he wanted to be roasted alive, even if he could survive, it was still unpleasant to have your armor meld with you, and is something that the knight would not want to simply go through just because–but the closer he got to his obstacle, the more the knight struggled to find any other route of this predicament. His mind was ablaze, the forest around him was ablaze, there was pillars of fire being enclosed on him, but the slightly chilled, charred wood of the black tree felt oddly easing to his conscious as he played with the almost fragile bark of the tree in his shadowed fingers every time he punched his way up a little further–the wrath, and comfort were in contrast to each other, but the callous balance put him at ease as he continued his escape to the second layer–the second arena–and the fight.
The further he climbed, the more he felt the world tremble. There was something inherently different about this layer from the one before it. The lowest hanging branch of the second layer gave away the smallest amount of the great, unseen battle waged over the knight, and over the titanous ravens of fire. The tremble even became noticeable for the fire itself the closer to the first branch he got. His own body was shaking like a leaf in the smallest of winds, which the knight found more agitating than an actual threat to his safety–much like the cryptid of the surface level. Though in the back of his mind, he knew it would only be a matter of time before the force was more of a threat than whatever enemies lurked at the highest reaches of the second layer.
The knight didn't give the world much of a second thought as he zoned in on the simple task of creating a climbing path while both he and the fire surrounding him continued increasing in speed at an unprecedented level. The world in front of him became a single piece of matte black, and the world of his peripheral became simple backdrops of white without the pain of flaring white hot fire tangent to his place on the cylinder he was climbing. The heat became a third thought to the second thought of his surroundings to the first thought of getting to the top of the branch. The sudden fixation of the top, gave the knight something akin to a speed boost as the loud sounds of his fists thunderous punches into the tree, and the contrastingly quiet stabs of Rising Tide as its blunt blade pushed its way into the resistant outer layer of the tree, leaving rather destructive gashes in the tree that weren't present on the other side. The quickening of his breath, the burning in his eyes, the regretful rubbing of the fire against his shoulders, the sensations were dampened in his mind, but his body could not ignore the precise trials against its will–yet somehow, the body kept up with the mind. The fire had enclosed on his elbows, as he scrambled to the branch, only to seemingly hit air, completely ruining his momentum for a moment, then his arm hit something. It was soft, slightly cushiony to the arm of darkness–infact, whatever he had touched was so dark it looked to be the same shade as the arm itself, making it hard for the knight to make out where his arm ended, and the soft thing began.
His mind short circuited for a long moment. His neck slowly craned upward, while his arm mindlessly played with the soft darkness, which with further inspection determined it to be obsidian flavored feathers. He reached the peak of his craning and stared down two pitch black, curious eyes. The eyes were above a midnight red beak, which was the mouth of a black feathered bird with a pair of equally maroon horns crowning the raven's skull, seemingly towering over everything, signifying its high place in the food chain and the hierarchy of the forest, despite the little amount that stabbed through the great layer of feathers that thickly blanketed its frame that was bathed in the white light of the fire–the light that had pained his body so much and made his eyes hurt just as much. The knight was playing with the neck feathers of an infinitely large black raven. He was staring down a king–and he couldn't tell if this king was benevolent or not. All the sensations seemed to come into his mind all at once in this creature's presence, making the knight shut his eyes and shudder at the discomfort that racked his body. His grip loosened minuscully on the sword that was propping him up as the heat slowed the movement of his shoulder to elbow as the joints joined together once again. The raven in front of the knight tilted its head at the knight, but didn't make a move, as though studying the knight, wondering his next move–and the knight wasn't slow to show the creature its next move.
Tightening his grip on Rising Tide again, the knights eyes darted about, trying to find a way out if this creatures range, as he expected another pyre of fire to reign onto him, just from the top–completely trapping him in a cage of infernal fire that would hurt–alot, but when his eyes landed on where the black eyes were before, there was nothing.
Paniking, the knight looked around, but only a great hole in the tree that blended in almost as well as his hand and the feathers of the winged tyrant –something the knight had not seen before. It was a strange thing–it was a nest, but why did it retreat? There was no reason to question it, there was a place to recuperate for a moment, before finally being able to fight on slightly more equal grounds. It was the only option he had, so he reached over the small distance between himself and the entrance to safety–avoiding the small distance between himself and a terrible fate. Grabbing the rim, with his left hand, the knight removed the blade from beneath him, quicker than he had before–the fire had engulfed his legs. The searing feeling of the metal melting through the padding and burning his legs nearly made the knight shriek, but there was no time for such small things. The knight bright his hand up to the rest of body in a hurry, and tossed the weapon over the edge, and quickly pulled himself up, from his hanging position before throwing himself over.
The drop was short, being a little less than a minute long, but the knight would've preferred a longer fall–especially to let his armor mend–it was better to end up in an unknown place with a known enemy while completely prepared, which is what the knight wasn't. Landing in a pile, the knight groaned at the great number of sensations across his body as he laid there–at least he hadn't landed on Rising Tide this time, which made the knight wonder a little how not getting impaled on his own weapon was something that was a good thing, considering before he had never even had to worry about such a thing.
The floor was cold, which was odd considering where the knight was, but he didn't pay that much mind. The squealing of displeasure of the smaller ravens outside made the knight wince a little behind his helmet, they were angry, and they made that fact known, but the knight knew that once they saw the creature they were crying towards they'd fly off. The thing inside the nest with him made the world look small in comparison. And as it creeped out of the darkness, the knight saw the talons of the creature land near his body, and curl into the wood–cutting through it easily. It peered out of the craved home it had made, and the knight could not hear anything after that. His bleary vision did not forget to print in his mind through the faint light of fire-charged forest, the knight watched the hazy image of its large maw being opened, and the world trembled after the action–the action that also took his hearing away.
Laughing to himself, unsure of how loud he was being, until the creature's head mechanically turned to him. Piercing eyes turned to the knight's hazy ones. Though he wanted to fight back, the knight wasn't given much of a chance: he couldn't feel his lower half for the moment, he couldn't hear, and his vision–which could barely see anything already–was becoming completely black in the few places of color that remained. The bird had lumbered over towards him, and gently picked him up with its beak, and took him deeper into the darkness of its nest.
'I wonder if I can regenerate after being dissolved by stomach acid?' The dark thought was followed by complete darkness.