Everyone wore black. Less than twenty men and one family gathered near the entrance to a stone room in the Forbidden Hall, silently waiting. The two children had sorrow written all over their faces. The mothers face was pale and her eyes slightly red. The men had expressions moving between serious and grim. A priest with white robes and a sun symbol at chest height entered the burial chamber, the open coffin carried in behind him by two strong warriors, fully armored. John lay there in full armor, his eyes closed, his hair tidy, his helmet placed near his head, his hands still gripping his sword. Peaceful, tough as always and noble.
The priest and the two escorts walked slowly and gracefully, not saying a word, until they reached an open section in the floor, then stopped.
"It is indeed a sad day for us all. A great warrior of the order, who touched all your hearts has left us forever. He had fallen in battle, fighting for a just cause against the forces of evil. His contribution to humanity will never be forgotten. Death is a part of nature, coming for us all. We must accept it and live our lives with honor. Promoted to be remembered by all as Sergeant, John Smith has done just that. May he rest in peace." The priest gestured with his arm to Johns ex-wife (her new boyfriend wasn't there) and children. At first she couldn't find the words, simply crying. Metsuhai was sure he would hate her guts, but her suffering seemed genuine. "Goodbye John. You were the best man I ever had. I had no idea you were fighting evil all this time. I am sorry I didn't appreciate you enough when I still could."
The priest waited a bit, but it was clear Johns ex wasn't going to say anything more.
"If anyone else wishes to say his final goodbyes before we put John in his eternal resting place, it is your moment."
Masaru, standing out in his usual fancy attire (the only one not wearing black) stepped forward.
"John, my order brother, your loyalty that matches only your courage is an inspiration to all artists. Your blade, responsible for the destruction of countless foes, had found the right wielder indeed…"
Metsuhai wasn't surprised Masaru had been the first to speak. He knew John well, and was the first person Metsuhai called, telling him of Johns untimely demise when he was in the chopper. "I understand," was all Masaru told him at the time. Informing him was hard. Speaking to Yamius was even harder. Yamius clearly didn't want to accept what occurred and asked him a lot of questions. After Yamius, Metsuhai had no strength to inform anyone else. But these two apparently were enough, bringing others here too. Lezner, Nao and Takeo were also here. And so did others, whom Metsuhai didn't know or was barely familiar with. One of those was a fighter John once saved, carrying him to safety. Another was Johns fighting partner, still wounded. Kuma was on a mission and couldn't make it.
"…You lived like a man. You fought like a man. And you died like a man. You are an example to us all." Masaru stepped back. He had said it all.
"Goodbye friend," whispered Alex. For a minute everyone just stood still with their heads lowered, honoring John for the last time.
My true friend john, I will avenge you. I will never forgive the one who did this to you. I will make sure you story is heard and remembered. And I will start from your family.
As the two soldiers put the lid on the coffin and lowered it into the ground, Metsuhai approached the two children, keeping his promise to John.
…
Late at night, lying awake on his bed, Metsuhai pondered his next move. Ando will keep sending me to random missions that have nothing to do with what I want. I'll have to somehow search for Phaulin-Junior on my own. And my time is limited… But there is a greater problem.
I am not strong enough. I trained hard, but deep down I thought this was good enough. Now I know it's not. Sure, I met invincible opponents before. Enemies I couldn't really defeat on my own. But this time it's different. Phaulin-Junior is still so young. He will grow and become stronger by the day. He almost took me down already. If instead of running away he would come to finish me off I would be dead by now. Even if takes me but a month to find him, he will be much stronger, and more prepared. The typical solution would be hunting him in a team. Yamius would join me for sure, however… That's not how I am gonna do it. I will dispose of lesser Phaulin personally, on my own. But to keep up with him my shaky training routine ain't good enough. I need a master-leveled trainer.
Metsuhais next morning was a busy one. First he had to get Andos permission for a long break.
Ando didn't want to cooperate, insisting at first that they need every available man fighting, but caved in fast when Metsuhai explained it's for training. Apparently according to the regulations a warrior of enough status was to be given time for training, so he could get to his full potential on the battlefield. He would still have to fight half of the time and respond in the case of an emergency, but otherwise was free to train in any way he sees fitting.
Now he just had to find a trainer. How hard could that be?"
Lezner was the obvious choice. A hardened war veteran who knew Metsuhai already and still had much to give. He also knew Metsuhais fighting style better than anyone. However he refused.
"Its ain't me who makes the orders rules," Lezner inhaled more smoke, "I have my job here whether I like it or not. I work with the rookies, that's my job. There is nothing I can help you with." Once Lezner made his mind about something there was no way back. So Metsuhai tried others.
"I can't accept you as my student," calmly Explained Koton, the thin monk-warrior, master of martial arts, "I am overworked as it is. Having too many apprentices because it was the call of the hour. Don't take it as a sign of disrespect, on the contrary, training you would have been an honor. But if I accept even a single more apprentice it would diminish my efficiency."
"You are the one who defeated Mordon, you don't need any training," declared Keiji, an armored short man with blades attached to his wrists, with enthusiastic voice "You can be teaching here."
An old man with white hair, holding a forked spear explained "a man of my age knows not to mess with politics. I am a fighter, not a politician. I would have gladly trained you, but I don't want to anger Kagehiroto-sama. He is far beyond my rank, and further more is going to rule here one day. I am sincerely sorry."
Metsuhai received refusal after refusal. It seemed like he already asked every instructor in the capital.
Frustrated, Metsuhai sat on a bench in the park, looking down. What am I supposed to do now?
Light steps were what pulled him away from his thought. Lifting his gaze, he discovered Marco Daichi, standing nearby with a wide smile.
"Long time no see, Metsuhai-kun. You've accomplished much since we last met. I must admit, you surpassed all my expectations."
"Good to see you too, friend. It's nice to hear a good word once in a while. I usually hear Ando barking orders and roars on missions. What brings you to the capital?"
"I have some arrangements here, not for long though. To be honest I was hoping to bump into you. I heard about your little problem."
Did he find out that my poisoning was fatal? I was sure Chizue wouldn't tell anyone, even her childhood friend. I guess Lezner knows too though. Or could he possibly know about my personal quest to destroy Phaulins son?
"I heard you were looking for a trainer."
"Indeed I was. It found out to be harder than I thought."
"How strong do you want to get?"
Metsuhai thought only for a moment, before answering with confidence "We all do what we can for the order. People think I am powerful because I killed Mordon. I don't see it that way. It was a fluke. I must become much, much stronger, fast."
Marco thought for a moment, looking somewhat unsure, hesitating.
"There is one dangerous option. There used to be an amazing master of combat in the order. His name is Hisashi Tsukiyama. He was unmatched, unbeatable and that was three-hundred years ago. One day he had a conflict with his commanders. He left the order never to return. Those who came to retrieve him all died. Others who wanted his help and wouldn't back down were killed as well. We located him not too long ago. Though a bit drunk, he seems to be working as a healer of difficult cases, so he won't kill you on sight. If persuaded he would surpass any instructor in the capital. But he is stubborn, a man of the old days. You have to show him you are different. Show him your will. Whatever he says, whatever he does you must not back down. If you have that kind of determination, you will have the ultimate trainer on your side."
"Thank you. I couldn't have asked for a better course of action."
"That's what friends are for. Good luck."
…
Roteah and bandaged 341 entered an old apartment building, clearly needing maintenance. He went through an unlocked apartment door on the sixth floor. The familiar followed him, turning invisible. Roteah took a deep breath. The cracked leaking walls, the dusty floor, the broken picture poorly hanging on a nail barely stuck in the wall, the piles of used dirty clothes, some torn. The pile of unwashed dishes in the sink. It was home.
"Mom, I'm home," Roteah spoke quietly in case she was asleep, his voice trembling a bit.
"Come here," answered her slightly hoarse voice.
Roteah made sure there was no more blood on him and approached with his head down.
"So how much did you bring?"
Roteah took out of his pocket a small amount of cash. It was barely enough for a meal or two. His mother, a twenty four year old black haired woman, grabbed the money and examined it. She was clearly beautiful once, but now her unkempt wet hair, her drunk expression and her old used clothes were working against her. Her expression turned thuggish and Roteah already knew what's coming.
"You said you'll bring money to make me happy, and what is this?! I can barely buy my vodka with this today…" Sodane took another sip from the bottle filled with orange stuff, "You broke your promise. You never make me happy. You piece of shit!" Sodane gave Roteah a loud smack on his face.
"I'm so sorry mother, things didn't work out."
"I'll tell you what isn't working out- you are, you horned jerk!" Sodane threw her now empty bottle at her only son. The bottle shattering on his chest (not causing physical damage).
"I'm sorry honey. I had a bad day. Now go back to your room, and let mommy watch her Venezuelan drama."
Crying silently Roteah shut himself in his tiny room. The familiar, always visible to Roteahs eyes, was already there. Roteah was hitting the floor with his small fists. The floor cracking with every blow. "Roteah- sama don't feel bad."
"Don't tell me how to feel!" Roteah blew up, immediately regretting. Oh great, now I insulted my only friend in the world.
"I want to sow off my horns, remove my hoofs, and put a fork through my heart."
My job to guide him to his darkest self is easier than I thought, Thought 341, He won't be a confused kid much longer. Sooner or later he will accept his role in life. Yet the final test to my work will be when he kills his mother. After that there will be no way back for the dark prince and my job here will be complete. Yet I must be patient. It can take two of three more years
"You know, my life was even harder," it seemed the familiar wasn't insulted.
"Can it get harder than this?"
"Oh yes it can. Inferno is a terrible place for the weak. I was abused since the day that I hatched. No mother, no father. And I was subjugated by groups of strong sadistic demons. I was hit, and humiliated daily. I remember how once, and how could I forget, I was raped simultaneously by three crushers. It is the most painful thing imaginable. It was beyond description. I was actually lucky to be born smart. I got the rare privilege, especially for weak guys like me, for enlightenment and education, becoming useful for the dark army more than as a snack. Thus breaking out of the unending torment. Most of my kind are slaves from birth to their last day…"
Roteah was shocked.
"…But if there is something to learn from this, a conclusion to make. Suffering, as well as good and evil are pointless. The only thing important is power, and those who can wield it. Unleashing it on others for their satisfaction. You are actually strong enough to rape the crushers who did this to me."
For Roteah this was a lot to take in, though he had no intention of fucking with crushers.
"Yes, you are right. Nothing meters other than power."
…
Tsukiyama was an aging man with messy brown heir. Currently he was sitting in a hot steamy bath house. He was wearing nothing but a bath- robe, and embracing two practically naked, young women. In his right hand he held a half empty bottle of Samagon (self-brewed alcoholic beverage). As the steam kept going up, filling his VIP room, Tsukiyama seemed quite satisfied.
Metsuhai hesitantly walked into the room wearing sportswear. He already faced crushers, and even a blood-fencer captain. He already looked death in the eyes. But Marco warned him that Tsukiyama is a difficult man to approach, so Metsuhai wasn't sure from what angle to start this.
"For the last time!" exclaimed Tsukiyama, "I'm not interested in men!"
"No, I'm not here to sell my body. I am a representative of the order of the sun. Though I came from my own volition."
"And you want?"
"Train me, make me strong!"
"Beat it, go home kid. You'll get no help from me"
"You will train me! I will prove I am worthy. I'm not backing down!"
"I see, let's take it outside"
Tsukiyama and Metsuhai stood on the empty street. Metsuhai was in full armor. Tsukiyama wore a worn-out red leather armor. Tsukiyama was completely relaxed, drunk no more (he used a special technique to sober up in a second). In contrast to Metsuhai, who looked as a cowboy ready to draw. Metsuhai couldn't feel Tsukiyamas power, but he received a strange feeling when trying to sense him. As if he was hugging a lion. Marco said this man is extremely dangerous, and it seems I already made him angry.
"For the last time," stated Tsukiyama, "I don't need help from the order. I don't want to rejoin the order. I don't want anything from the order!"
Tskiyama hit to the air with his fist. Metsuhai got knocked off his feet. As Metsuhai gets up, he tried to grasp what just happened. It can't be he punched me from this distance, also, if his hands wore extending like those of Mordon, I would see this. Assuming it's not air magic or some special attack, the only conclusion is then that…
His attack is so strong I was knocked down by an air current, reacting to his fist. This guy is good.
"Fight me you bastard, draw your sword!"
Metsuhai drew his newly crafted sword (of even higher quality than the last one) and shield, taking his battle stance. Tsukiyama drew something that looked like a steel chain ending with a small sharp triangular blade. Metsuhai charged and immediately received a painful whiplash to his chest, stopping him in place.
"You should know," calmly informed him Tsukiyama, "I didn't just fought demons, I already killed twelve fighters of the order."
"You'll have to hit me a lot harder than this, if you want me to back down."
Metsuhai released air cuts from his sword. The air cuts changed directions as they fly at Tsukiyama. He didn't even move. Yet he wasn't hurt even once. Metsuhai didn't even understand what happened. Metsuhai tried charging again and again but the whip always struck first. Tsukiyama controlled it with unbelievable precision and skill, like it was part of his body. This time Metsuhai blocked the whip with the shield, his balance slightly off.
"Not bad, but can you defend against this?"
Tsukiyama now aimed his whip at Metsuhais legs. The chainmail didn't help. A bleeding wound opened on Metsuhais leg. Excited Tsukiyama delivered to Metsuhai more whiplashes to the legs. These low blows were so hard to defend against with the shield, striking as fast they did.
Metsuhai raised his energy and released a huge energy beam. Tsukiyama stopped it with one hand, deflecting it to the sky with no visible effort. Metsuhai couldn't believe his eyes.
"My turn," declared Tsukiyama.
Tsukiyama released an enormous energy beam with no effort whatsoever. Metsuhai blocked with both hands, pushed backwards. He struggled against the beam, his muscles going to the limit. Eventually he did stop the beam as it exploded right on him. My armor can't take much more. But I have been through worse!
Before Metsuhai knew it Tsukiyama was right in front of him, sending his fist deep into Metsuhais solar-plexus. The blow forced the air out of his lungs. Metsuhai coughed blood. Metsuhai, who was a battle hardened fighter tried counterattacking with the sword, but Tsukiyama wasn't there anymore. He once again was ten meters away.
This guy is on another level. My normal attacks aren't working. I'll have to try surprising him with a move that previously didn't exist.
Metsuhai put more energy into his feet, avoiding the chain, charging at Tsukiyama head on. It looked like a reckless over-committed move. Tsukiyama easily dodged, moving to the side, supposedly leaving Metsuhai exposed for a devastating counter attack. But this was only the start of the assault. Metsuhais body flipped midair, his feet coupled together, hitting an Air Platform forming at the last second. He leaped with the new propulsion swinging his sword.
"I have you now!"
Tsukiyama dodged by a thread, shuttering Metsuhais hope of delivering a battle changing sword blow. Not giving up, Metsuhai swung his sword repeatedly. Tsukiyama avoided the blade five times. Then, in the sixth time Metsuhai falt like he hit something, yet he couldn't retrieve his sword, as if cutting deep into his opponents body.
To his astonishment Tsukiyama caught Metsuhais sharp blade with his energy covered hand.
"I will kill you…You're going down!" (Tsukiyama)
Tsukiyama showered Metsuhai with fists to the head. He was relentless. Every blow with shuttering power. After more than twenty blows Tsukiyama leapt back to his original position. He was so fast it looked as if he teleported, leaving Metsuhai to fall, powerless.
Metsuhai gritted his teeth and forced himself up. And man, he was a mess. His face shattered, his nose broken. His left eye swollen and shut. If this keeps up, he will kill me, however, I can't back down now. There are greater things at stake. I must not forget what Marco told me.
And it came. The legendary golden glow.
"It's… it's… the light speed time acceleration!" Tsukiyama recognized the move.
"You are the one who's going down!"
Metsuhai stormed forward in insane speed, leaving a golden trail behind him. His movement so fast he looks like a golden flying meteor.
Surprisingly Tsukiyama dodged every time. His gaze was now far more serious.
Tired Metsuhai stopped. His golden glow fading fast.
"I don't understand, how did you do it?"
"You are fast, maybe faster than me, but this speed is difficult to control, making your moves too linear, and easy to predict…
…I had enough, I'm really going to kill you!"
The chain whip sprung by itself, grabbing Metsuhai by the arm. Pain surged through Metsuhais body as Tsukiyama delivered electricity shock through his weapon. Metsuhai screamed as his body was shaking with involuntary movement. In desperation Metsuhai kicked the chain breaking it. Trying to pull himself together.
"This you couldn't endure." Tsukiyama appeared in front of exhausted Metsuhai, kicking his arm joint, braking it in two.
Metsuhai collapsed.
"Game over kid."
Tsukiyama turned his back to Metsuhai, starting to walk away.
To his surprise, tormented Metsuhai got up again. His hand hanging like a rag.
"Do you think I care about dying right now. I have a greater goal. A purpose. They all trust me. The order, Chizue, my friends are all fighting for their lives. I didn't even avenge john yet. Marco told me not to back down. And that's what I'm gonna do, even if it costs me my life right here right now!"
"I don't understand," Tsukiyama was truly surprised, "I electrified you. I broke you nose, I broke your arm. I killed twelve men for god sake. You are barely alive. Yet you stand before me, right here and right now just like…me?"
Metsuhai still struggled to stand. Tsukiyama faced his own thoughts.
How could I? I am as cruel as my teacher… no… I am cruller than my teacher. How could I do to this young lad all this.
"Alright, I'll teach you kid, I don't want to kill you anymore."
Metsuhai took couple more breaths and collapsed.
…
Metsuhai woke up in an unfamiliar bed, covered with a thin white sheet. It was comfortable. He was in small cozy apartment, daylight entering through the square window, through the transparent-red curtains. The apartment didn't have much furniture except the large bookshelf at the side of the room. On the wall was a masterfully drawn picture of a Mongolian knight who partially resembled Genghis Khan. He had a big white mustache. To Metsuhais left sat a man holding an open book, immersed in reading. It was Tsukiyama. Right now, it was hard to associate this wise elder with the destroyer Metsuhai fought a few hour ago, or was it days?
Surprisingly, Metsuhais multiple wounds disappeared. Even his supposedly broken arm was only hurting a bit beneath the new, clean bandages. Only the spider mark seemed to have awakened fully, generating the familiar laceration.
"Bulgakov, he really was the best of his time," Tsukiyama closed the book, "Congratulations Metsuhai, you have now been officially accepted into my school. The only way out is in a coffin. It's far too late to back down now. I will be strict, tough, cruel, so brace yourself."