YUUKI - To Move Forward: Prelude 1 -
Chapter 11: The Boy in the Purple Jacket
Log #301: Biology
Hornauts are quite the annoying little pests, yet they somehow still manage without the massive bulk or superb stalking abilities of some of the more dangerous Shade. The toxins inside their stingers can be lethal, depending on where it is injected, although it appears to also be the base substance for its cure. The bugs often reside in massive nests, yet somehow always remain hidden in plain sight, especially in schools and academies. They are aggressive when antagonized, but if left alone, generally reside in peace. The general consensus is very similar to how humans once thought of spiders: creepy, scary, potentially dangerous, and an absolute pain to be infested with.
-General Shura Averin
418 BPE
The grass playfully danced with the clear sky as the wind lavished in the brilliant sunlight that shone overhead: a break in the forest of death, where two boys, age of eighteen, patiently waited to battle the other to the death. Both boys stood facing each other, their marvelous blades reflecting the terrible sunlight that saved just as many as it killed. They stood silently, eyelids barely closed, embracing the heartbeat of the other, and became statues fused into a permanent stalemate. In truth, it was no stalemate at all, but only appeared so—each competitor stood so still and so calm. The boy with the longsword was patient; the boy with the longsword was deadly. His opponent, the boy with the heavy sword, was precise; the boy with the heavy sword was cunning. Both of them were ill-advised to engage first, as the other would be granted an immediate advantage. So they waited, and waited, as the sun traversed the bright blue sky, leaving a trail of heat and radiation in its wake.
A spectator would be stunned by the standoff, as the suspense and intensity between the two fighters increased with every passing moment. Of course, neither one felt what a spectator would have felt—nobody but them experienced this suspense, this anxiety. Both remained content to bathe in the sun’s loving and deadly embrace, and both accepted the other’s hesitation to begin the assault. It was a stalemate; it was not a stalemate, for it could be broken easily if one should simply disturb the vegetation below their feet. Neither of them obliged, however, so the silence dragged on, hours for the spectator, but mere seconds for the competitors.
The one who sported a purple jacket clutched his extended blade expertly; the one who donned a black jacket gripped his weighted sword defiantly, and time dragged on. If one had observed the heavy sword owner’s previous match that had begun as such, they could, without hesitating, relate to the statement that the last sparring match couldn’t hold a candle to the weight, the tenseness of the air around these two swordsmen at the present date. It truly was a masterful scene, a piece of art, had there been anyone to document such a moment on a canvas at the moment. Instead, this beautiful stalemate was experienced and enjoyed by the two who participated in it alone, and one other; only they would ever know exactly how amazing and how cruel the suspense was that each boy provided with the other. Nobody but a spectator could experience such an intensity shared by these two opponents. The entire scene could have been summarized in one, true word: breathtaking.
The moment, after much hesitation, passed by, and the world resumed its course. Both fighters grew impatient after a long while, and silently agreed to meet at the middle in a clash of metal, and the battle was under way.
His initial strike was impressive; it refused to yield to my heavy slash, and despite its frail appearance, Francis’s weapon had an unbelievable amount of durability. After the first strike, the innocence of the match vanished, and my opponent wasted no time in his assault. Hades was quite the tool: its range was phenomenal compared to mine, and it swung with such precision he might as well have been fighting point-blank. It was all I could manage to deflect every last one of his slashes, let alone find an opening to get close. Judging from his fighting style, he had practiced and perfected this way of dueling, so no opponent could even get within a few feet of their target.
My first impression of Hades was that it had to be a slow but powerful sword, considering the size of the beast. That in mind, Francis had caught me completely by surprise with the finesse and agility of the blade, with speed that almost exceeded that of my own. Of course, speed was not my specialty, either, so I endured, deflecting every slash he attempted, and failing every counterattack I attempted. It was clear since the beginning that this calm, collected boy was far superior to me in skill, so I would either have to wear him out, or outdo him in weapon quality. I still had that secret switch on the hilt of my blade, the option to split my heavy blade in two. It would increase the amount of damage I could dish out, as well as improving my own agility and speed. That secret was my only real advantage over Francis, however, and I was determined to keep it as such for as long as possible.
Our blades clashed, and smashed, and rang off each other, yet neither of us made any headway whatsoever. He swung left, I dodged right. His right, my left. He sliced upwards, I parried downwards. Vice-versa, vice-versa, and repeat. The most terrifying aspect of the entire match, however, was my opponent’s expression. At times, it was cool and reserved, but in a flash it could switch into some crazed, blood-thirsty grin, and I almost stumbled backwards from the shock of it. Another flash, and it would be reserved once more. It was as such that my realest duel progressed without progress. Similar to Alison’s duel, I realized early into the battle that my opponent would outlast me if I remained intent of continuing the match as it had begun. My hesitation of activating Twilight’s Fury’s hidden function, however, was that even with my boost, Francis would still have the advantage in skill. Our blades clashed once more, and I stared defiantly into his cool, calm eyes, weighing the pros against the cons of using my dual wielding.
I gritted my teeth, and allowed his next strike to push me backwards. Sparing no time to check where my enemy was, I turned around and sprinted with everything I had into the trees. Behind me, Francis laughed maniacally, and I heard his feet dash in my direction. I jumped to the side, and hid behind a tree. Moments later, a whish screamed at me to evade, and despite the tree I'd used as cover still standing tall, Hades had come within a centimeter of decapitating me. It was as if the tree were a hologram. I pounced forward, desperate to get out of Hades’s reach. Francis raised his blade in the air, and brought it down hard, slashing at my leg. But his sword was stuck in the dirt.
I felt a terrified grin emerge, and used the split second I had been given by the forest to scramble to my feet, darting back into the clearing.
I can’t use the trees as cover!
That left one option.
Facing this demon head on.
I turned back towards Francis, holding my sword out in front of me. Each breath shook my body, and the trembling in my limbs threatened to give way at any moment. Nevertheless, I was determined to come out on top.
I can’t lose now.
Even if I had the opportunity to escape, there was no way I could let such a dangerous criminal continue his deeds. And without any proof, I couldn’t get help, either. The only option I had was defeating him here, now. He emerged from the trees, the horrifically long blade extending straight out from his arm, digging into the dirt as he slowly walked over to me. He was smiling.
If I was to have any hope of winning against Francis, I’d have to strike first, and close our distance before he could react. Realizing this, I charged at him without another thought, and drew my blade back to stab right into his chest.
My blade drew closer, and it seemed like my plan was working.
Then he looked me dead in the eyes.
And with inhuman reflexes and speed, lifted Hades to parry my lunge. I gritted my teeth in frustration. I’m not done yet! Regaining my stance, I swung Twilight’s Fury once more, and again, Hades clashed with the black blade. I was once again face to face with Francis. I looked into his eyes, staring defiantly at his amused, calm expression. It was the look of someone who had complete and utter control of the situation. How can he be so calm? How can he be so confident? Is he seriously this skilled?
As I completed this train of thought, we broke free of each other, and Francis grinned, swinging Hades horizontally at me feet. Surprised by his sudden change of tactics, my feet barely had enough time to avoid being removed completely, but the action still knocked me off balance and onto the ground, leaving my body open for an attack.
Francis smirked, and lifted the blood-red katana above his head, preparing to stab straight through by chest. I knew that if I didn’t act fast, this crazy yet confident face would be the last I ever saw. Without thinking of what to do next, I gritted my teeth, and used the tip of my sword to flip onto my stomach as my opponent brought the lethal edge down. A swish of metal, a gash in my shoulder, and a wedged longsword in the dirt. His eyes widened as he realized his mistake, so I leapt to my feet, and swung my sword down with every bit of force I could manage. Twilight’s Fury had an unobstructed trajectory directly to Francis’s backside.
It was only when I saw the air behind him ripple, and the strange unearthly sound of a buffer resisting an impact, that I realized that I was exactly where he wanted me to be.
The fight was over.
The buffer absorbed the impact, and reflected it directly at its owner. The massive force launched me several feet in the air, and as I plummeted back to the earth, I heard a crack somewhere in my left leg, where the entirety of my body had forced its weight upon. Pain coursed through my nerves, but I gritted my teeth and looked up at my enemy.
Now was not the time to be paralyzed in pain.
To make matters worse, the force of my blow had knocked Francis forward, freeing his demonic sword and causing him no actual damage. Whoever had created his buffers, they were undoubtedly incredibly skilled.
It was clear that I hadn’t broken through half of them.
I struggled to my feet, only to break down again when I put any pressure of my left leg. Searing pain jetted through my waist whenever I moved.
I can’t get up. I can’t stand!
If I couldn’t stand, I couldn’t fight, and that was that. So instead of trying the impossible, I merely lifted my head in agony, and glared at this boy that was my classmate.
He rubbed his back to relieve the stress of the buffers, and swung his sword around to clean off the dirt before sheathing it. “Oh, man, that was fun, wasn’t it? You know, you are quite a bit stronger than you look, Kazuki. I almost had to activate Hades’ ability, and that wouldn’t have done at all.” He smirked again, and his cool, composed look returned. “Well, well. I’d really rather not end your legacy right now, ’cause I’m not that cruel. Well, I might be to you, but I’m more curious to how you’ll improve over the years, my friend.” He stretched, and went down on the soles of his feet, and spoke quietly to me, “I will have to stress your cooperation, however, in keeping my identity a secret. To those at school, I am Francis Davis, a cool, reserved fellow who is quite handy with a blade.” He winked at me, and stood back up.
As much as I wanted to say something brave or witty right back at him, I realized that the sooner I could get him gone, the sooner I could seek out treatment for my leg. So instead of snapping back pathetically or staring him down defiantly, I lowered my head, ashamed that I had lost, that I was defeated so easily, and that I could think of nothing to say to him. We waited in this position for a few minutes, and I realized that he was silent on purpose, to let it sink in that no one was coming to my rescue. He was relishing in his easy victory, and my pathetic submission, but there was nothing I could do but wait for whatever it was he would do next.
Thankfully, he didn’t keep me waiting, and opened his mouth once more, maintaining his calm demeanor. “Hey, you know that girl you are so fond of? Why, do you suppose, is she so secretive of her parentage? Would you know, by any chance? Hey don’t give me that look, man. I’m only asking a question, here. But anyway, I’ve got to find one of those stones that we were asked to retrieve, and I’m sure you’ll find it in you to get back up eventually. ’Till next time, good sir.” And with that, he casually strolled away, one hand raised in the air back at me, with the other in his jacket pocket.
Then I was alone.
I had to get help. Before the nerves in my leg gave in to the pain.
It took many attempts, many grunts, and many collapses before I could manage to get to my feet, but even then I struggled to walk, my sword acting as a makeshift walking cane. I would take a few steps, fall down, and get back up, all the while wincing. The daylight seeped by, entirely oblivious to my suffering. When the sun was disappearing from the horizon, I finally managed to clear the field, and began my journey back into the woods. Thankfully, a small cave quickly revealed itself to me. Inside of it, there were a couple dozen stones with colorful gems sparkling on their rocky exteriors. Overcome with relief, I limped over to the cave, and retrieved a single, medium-sized stone. Once that part of the mission was complete, I noticed a small slab of rock extending out of the wall, and I sat down on it and closed my eyes for a minute to rest. With the adrenaline fading away, I remembered my broken leg.
The unbearable pain that followed blurred everything into a terrible white, and everything I’d felt previously drowned in overwhelming agony.
When I awoke, it was midday, and I was lying in a hospital room, a cast over my left leg and constraints on my waist, wrists, and ankles.
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