I heed the call...but be warned. I have sensed other soul lights beginning to show signs of Mythriken magic on the Material Plane. Jon appeared in FULL Archon war gear in a spiraling eruption of golden energy through the surface of the Astral Sea like a missile, spinning and flapping his wings to hover in place between Fate and Raven’s location and where Mordu was searching for them - a vast emission of pure Seinken magic power to make them harder to locate like he was trying to jam the evil mage’s magic sonar. Power radiated from him in sheets and the fully armored Archon simply looked down on Mordu with a look of disdain as he held out his right hand and charged an empowered power bolt, the positive energy then splitting into several smaller spheres that he fired at the mortal like a salvo of bullets at high speed. “You are drunk on a tainted sip of my people’s power, let me show you what a keg of the pure stuff can do!”
He continued to fire the light bullets before charging up a single power bolt and firing it and following it in nice and close where he summoned his spear - magic users usually didn’t like having pointy objects in their personal space and that was what made Archons so hard to fight for the robe wearing varieties of mages as they were equal parts warrior and magic user themselves. The fact Mordu had gotten his hands on Mythriken power was worrying and knowing he was just the first contender in this shitty game show he decided to stop playing nice and donned his Archon war gear. It was heavy, but it greatly bolstered the natural defenses of his body and most importantly, it fully kept his power under control (though he used to hate wearing it because of the extra weight, and because it looked a lot like the war gear of an Elder Thanagarian and made him feel old) It was silver colored with glowing gold trim all over it and it covered his whole body and his wings with a fully enclosed helmet and avian and almost Aegean motifs all over it. Fate was right, he was the Prince of the Seinken and he was once the High Archon of Ixidrel answering only to his father, it was time to grow up and dress like a warrior prince. “You may think you are invincible with the power you have flowing through your veins. But...” He brought the spear up and started rapidly jabbing it at the mage “I’m still more than twenty times more powerful than you are. And to make matters worse, that corrupted energy has a really nasty habit of disfiguring and mutating its user in truly horrific ways. And you’re...just a mortal so you might just pop like a balloon.”
There was a malice in his voice but he honestly didn’t want this guy to turn into something so ugly Cthulhu would puke looking at him. Some Mythriken couldn’t handle their own power and while Atronos found them useful as living siege engines there was nothing left of the once noble warriors they had been - just bloated monstrosities who knew only pain. Even Mordu didn’t deserve such a fate.