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Malik Benedict (Wild Arms 3) |
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Once again, momma's little boy finds himself in an easy match. Ramladu's brutal mace beatings won't phase the unhittable wonder, and Ramladu also lacks offensive magic, making it pretty much impossible for Malik to be hurt in any normal ways. Though Malik's best trick is unlikely to affect the king of Runefaust and it'll be a long time before Malik takes down his opponent, victory is inevitable for the mad scientist. |
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The king of Runefaust can't hit his opponent, but he cannot care less. Why? Malik has brutal evasion, and nasty status attacks, which would be the death of most fighters. Not Ramladu. He laughs at status attacks, and with his regeneration, he can easily overcome Malik's puny Eliminate Scanner. Ramladu's plan for victory is simple- wait for the frail prophet to tire, and then RAMLADU SMASH. |
El Cideon Both opponents had easily demolished their previous competitors, and the arena's audience was eager to see how a match between the two contrasting fighters would develop. The battle began with Ramladu's heavy mace whirring harmlessly through the blurred Prophet, followed by a return blow from Malik that the king's dark powers easily healed as he laughed and tried to strike again. And so it went...for four hours straight. As night broke and the bored audience trickled away, the judges finally decreed that the participants must find an alternative means of ending their stalemate. Malik was quick to suggest that each of them select a champion from among their underlings to stand in their place. However, Asgard was in little shape to represent Malik after his battle with Orlandu, and Ramladu's robots had little more success hitting the shifty scientist than their master had. Finally Ramladu, fuming and frustrated after an afternoon that could more or less be summed up with the word *WHIFF*, and generally driven to the end of his wits by Malik's incessant cackling, threw out the first thing that popped into his head. "A simple test of luck will end this, 'Prophet.' I have places to be, people to kill, and I tire of your presence. A simple test of luck will end this farce, and we can both be on our way." Thus, it was decided to end the match with the ancient and revered ceremony of the Coin Flip. "Just so happens I've got one here," Malik said, producing a worn old five-gella coin in his wavering and shifting fingers. Ramladu insisted on seeing it himself first, to insure the Prophet did not intend to employ the infamous double- headed-coin gag. He examined the coin, and, finding it genuine, handed it back. "I shall call. Tails!" he said as the coin hurtled through the air. Malik caught it in his palm, heads facing up. "You lose, old man," he said, grinning. "Two out of three," the king huffed, and Malik flipped again. "Heads," Ramladu called this time, only to see his call fail again. "Three out of five" he snarled, and so Malik flipped the coin again...and again, and again, until Ramladu stalked off in a rage. In retrospect, Ramladu really should have rethought his challenge. Never play games of chance with someone fast enough to dodge bullets. Malik Benedict: 15 |
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