The two charged into each other once more, the salt scattering into the wind, prompting Zazel to back away from the two, using the Book of the Ars Goetia as cover as he recovered. He would flip through its pages, quickly marking the floor with his blood one of the many sigils in its book, both as means to see which one can help him, as well as storing such sigils to use for himself without the need of the book. Thanks to what he saw from Harvard back in the book, He's taken a page out of him to learn new spells mid-fight in order to give himself the much needed advantage. Crocell, Uval, Andrealphus, Agares, Valac. No matter how many names he scanned through, or how strong such spells were, they weren't helpful in his current situation. With how much blood he was losing, his mind in a daze, he was sure that this would be his end, until he flipped over one more page and saw its description.
Gaap, the Goetic Demon of Philosophy.
Meanwhile, Adel would start his assault once more. He'd rush forward, his claws sharpened, aiming to slash at the Hunter's body. Arthur would use the salt they're standing on to make a slant, both to veer the momentum away from Adel, as well as to push himself forward so he can reach out and land a left palm strike straight onto his face, letting the salt take hold so he wouldn't leave his spot, allowing Arthur to follow up with a roundhouse kick to the back of his head. In retaliation, Adel would try to bend his body alongside the kick so he can grab the Hunter by the leg and swing him back around, letting him go once he's directly in front of him to follow up with a slash against the man's chest, the venom seeping in, watching such toxins disappear as the salt creeps up across his skin to the infected wound. Adel was understanding quickly as to how the man fights: Utilizing the salt as both a defense and an offense simultaneously, acting as a shield while also striking as a sword. Despite having such versatility, from the shifts in his eyes and hand movements, he would need to choose which one would work best in the given situation.
Such thoughts come as natural as breathing, so all Adel would need to do is overwhelm him to a point where he would be susceptible to the mix-up.
Adel would try to lunge himself forward, attempting to cross the Hunter up before he was given a chance to react. In response, however, Arthur would kick up the salt within the area to create a heavy field around the Serpentine Man. Such a field would sharpen itself, blades by the dozen, ready to hack and slash the man apart should he try to approach him. It was clearly a warning towards Adel, yet Arthur can't help but be amazed at seeing the man running forward at the whirring blades of white, his body ripped apart and slashed on every angle, his blood spewing and spraying everywhere, the venom being quick to catch itself onto the salt. "ARE YOU MAD!?" Arthur started, a cackle coming out of him. "I thought the imagery of saws and blades are enough of a deterrence! Has the Devil whispered into you about your next course of action??" As he questioned him, watching his legs jitter and struggle to stay up, his answer would be met with a straight punch against his face, his blood flying off to scatter into the salt further, lunging himself again and again to close the distance, trying to keep his offense going. Haymaker after Haymaker. Shoulder Bash into a Knee. A heavy throw off of the large mound of white they were on, slamming him onto a nearby wall so he can keep pushing, his claws stabbing into the Hunter's body again and again.
He was not relenting for even a moment. What makes matters worse for Arthur, is that any time he tries to use his salt, Adel would know exactly where to snake his body around in order to both dodge and counterattack with his own strikes. Arthur can see it clearly because of Adel's blood: The Man injured himself to such a degree in order to know where each and every bit of salt is coming from, allowing the man to track with his tongue, his own smell now left on the white substance, allowing him to buck and weave every chance he gets, all to push his attack forward. Arthur can't help but try to sing some praises, his voice cut off with every single punch and kick he was being issued out. He would try to have the mound rain down against Adel, which would be forced to counter with a strong sweep of his hands to part it in half, the wave crashing down and splitting in two paths. Arthur simply scaled up such salt in response. He would run up to be above the Snake Charmer and would detach his cloak, spurring some curiosity towards the Snake Charmer. Why would he take off his main offense? Why would he leave himself open by ditching such a valuable article that contains his magic? His answers would be given once he'd see such salt sprinkle down above Adel like snow.
SHIKK!!
A Spike. A set of spikes that jabbed themselves right on top of the man, striking at his head, shoulders, and arms, immobilizing him. His blood leaked down to coat his face, making it nigh impossible to see. "As expected, you can't begin to imagine what hell has been made for you..." Arthur would state with such confidence, crushing the sand pile around Adel, a coffin out of the substance to ensure he cannot escape. "Now...Onto the Blasphemo-"
BAM!!!
The Salts bursts open like a balloon, as the Snake Charmer would land an uppercut that sent Arthur flying up to the sky. He couldn't believe it. He survived his attack? He tried to look down to see what allowed him to sustain himself, being in shock that, amidst the wounds he's been inflicted, a black solid was made around him. A solid that must've shielded his skeletal structure against the salt, stopping the spikes before it even connected.
His inner structure was made out of Carbon, such a material honed in, in order to ensure such a death was prevented by his very hand. He was an adaptable fighter, that much Arthur knows for sure.