Last time it'd been here, it was half-grown and trailing after a war band for conflict it had yet to understand the purpose of - other than it being a display by Astraea himself of just what happened when problems went on for too long. Now, its hulking mass sank deep into the mire and it had to keep its head low enough to see the ground. It wasn't concerned about drowning underwater (lesson learned from that incident) so much as getting stuck in the mud and being unable to breathe through its gills.

The why of this was simple: testing. Garnet-Delta and Selenite-Gamma had both gone through the caves, canvassing them as it'd requested and reporting on any creatures of interest. Either made mention of an oilslicked beast it was faintly familiar with. Seen just barely at that battle, leading them all through the muck. Immense, powerful, and suited for the depths. Perhaps, in combination with itself... something great could be made.

Alpha toyed, though, with what finally reproducing would mean. Sure, it was the first step in its most-recently assigned tasks - to find the strong - and in the ongoing one of making three spawn to train and test. This step, though, felt like a nail driven into a proverbial coffin. Trepidation crawled through its quills - and it couldn't be passed off as the unsettling feeling of unawareness this mist was bringing.

It shook itself; no need to get ahead of itself.

Toxic eyes peered uselessly into the mist, blinked once, and found smears of blood infesting its vision. Clusters of Callers here, a disturbed group of Striders there, and... There. Pushing its magical focus on that lone signature lurking some half kilometer away, Alpha cut a straight-path.

Reeds crunched underfoot as Alpha came upon the silhouette darkening the waters, and it grunted before a retreat could be made, "you." The pause came, and it continued, "come out. I wish to... speak with you - and spar." Intentions clear, the orthoclase waited.

It'd been idling in the shallows, head above the surface and pressed into some mud. Striders didn't seem to mind it leaking Oily byproduct into the waters and polluting it. But, thundering footsteps were not something to stick around for - particularly when they were heading directly for you, hence Phlegethon's quiet retreat out of sight.

The abrupt stop and a voice, though? Phlegethon lifted its head slowly, gleaming-red eye snapping into view. It scanned once - twice, before rumbling with borrowed sounds, "I remember you. You came and fought the fungus. You came and fought me. You were darker - larger - then." All matter-of-fact. "You wish to fight again?" Why?

"I have served Aquarian-Father and Rot-Children since we fought," it assured, gaze somehow imploring despite its lack of lids and blinking.

"Again -" it echoed, eyes narrowing. We never - "Darker - larger - then." Alpha blinked once, and tested, "I am not the Ove - Master Vargas." It huffed and paced slowly down the bank. "I want to test our strength against one another; with no magic. Raw, physical combat."

An almost-eager squint came to its eyes, but then it zeroed in, "no injury, and no making enemies." In case, of course, of an entire family of swamp-beasts that might decide to rain fury upon it and be another lost set of gems (that being said, surely its Master could... force the dragons into obedience - not now.) "Call out stop whenever."

"You take the first move," it crouched down slightly, quills pricking in anticipation.

Not - "oh. I see," it admitted softly. They both seemed to have the same idea, though, for sparring. Testing, they'd called it. Strength against strength. Phlegethon's eye searched the kaiju once again, noting the similarities to Vargas. It would not get caught out by agility again. "You lose and you give me a Strider," came the booming request - and... attempt at humor? Or... was it being serious?

It was hard to know without explicit knowledge of the eager crawling and burbling of its hide.

Mouth snapping shut, the eldritch monstrosity sank low, coiling up. Alpha shifted its weight slightly, and it sprang towards the dominant forearm.

Round: 1/5?
Attempt: Grabbing one of Alpha's forelegs.
Defense:
Injuries:

[changing phlegethon's pronouns to he/him for the sake of not... being confusing.]

A... trade? Bet? A bet. Hm.

The orthoclase ignored that for the moment, staring down at Phlegethon, shifting to its opposite arm and - there. Red eye glinting in the light, those jaws nearly snapped tight around its wrist. Alpha lifted its arm at just the right moment with a soft grunt.

It made a small, sideways hop, and lurched forwards to smash its open hand back down, directly on the oily serpent's head.

Round: 1/5?
Attempt: Hold Phlegethon by the head.
Defense:
Injuries:

Palm met slime, and Phlegethon's head was smeared rather deep into the muck - and almost... flattened. From the outside, it was a rather cartoonish sight, Alpha apparently flattening his skull with the brunt of its weight. Here, it was painful and elicited a harsh waa! and spiking of Oil-slime.

The eldritch monstrosity's torso arched, flukes pressing hard against the shallows. It tried to gain leverage it simply didn't have access to; then, it switched gears. Make a different attempt, similar assault - but, first, escape. Twisting its head back and forth, shedding oily-black onto Alpha's hand, Phlegethon shoved backwards.

Round: 2/5?
Attempt: Squirm out of Alpha's grip.
Defense:
Injuries:

Phlegethon's head slipped out from its grip with a soft plop! and squelch! He left behind a rather sizable quantity of oil-slime on its hand, basically slicking it over. Alpha sniffed involuntarily, and found that it was... rather gassy-smelling. A bit like burning ozone. Interesting.

Toxic-green eyes narrowed as the swamp-beast shuffled backwards, drawing in his neck to the shoulders. Huh. It'd thought that he had the whole of his neck out beneath the surface, and had lunged out - but that was interesting, too. Many odd facets were to be found in this beast.

That being said, if it was holding his chest and made extending an inconvenience... Alpha lunged forwards, charging head-on with claws outspread.

Round: 2/5?
Attempt: Grab Phlegethon by the shoulders.
Defense:
Injuries:

One and a half tons of bulk slammed into its chest, hooked claws just about to break through his oily hide. It crawled worriedly around the talons, anxiety forming points all over himself. The light-sensing eye atop his head had gone completely dark, and there was something pricking harshly against the back of it. Many somethings, in fact. Phlegethon opened his mouth, stared down at the mud, and the limbs towards the back.

Maybe...

Wrenching himself free of a mane of quills, he dropped like a loose cord. Phlegethon extended towards a still-grounded leg, intending to get at least some of his neck's length coiled around it. Preparation for step two.

Round: 3/5?
Attempt: Wrap neck around a leg like a snake.
Defense:
Injuries: Minor punctures on head.

The orthoclase grunted, shifting to the side again as cold, wet Phlegethon attempted to weave up its leg. He was being too leisurely about it, not going full-force, and it informed him of as much, "don't hesitate. Strike as quickly and as hard as you can! I want to see."

It spun the rest of the way, claws still hooked into the swamp-beast's chest; and released at the last possible second to sort of... straddle the broad thing. If that succeeded, it placed Alpha in a rather unfortunate (but deliberate?) position where it could be bucked off or toppled. Each leg was spread out a fair bit, aside from the forearms still leaning on Phlegethon - even then, it'd have to let go on at least one arm. The strain in its back was getting to be taxing.

Round: 3/5?
Attempt: Straddle Phlegethon
Defense:
Injuries:

"You are not leaving room," he hummed lowly, the disorienting noise vibrating through the water and surrounding them both. "You said no injuries." Phlegethon was holding back as far as more forceful attacks - both out of respect for the aforementioned statement, and for the sheer fact that smacking into things when you, yourself, were mostly a non-Newtonian fluid, hurts.

Judging from the grunt he received, that rule was moot. Alpha's heavy weight shifted from his front to his back, corralled on either side by six limbs. Letting off a booming vibration, the elder beast snapped his neck out to his full length; it swung to one side, then whipped up towards the orthoclase's head.

Somehow, though, momentum was cruelly thrown out the window, and he bounced somewhat harmlessly off the point of its skull. The impact was like a toddler flinging a pool noodle at an adult. Absolutely pathetic.

Round: 4/5?
Attempt: Smack Alpha with his neck. Sike lmao
Defense:
Injuries: Minor punctures on head.