Being better at something that should be a norm isn't something to be proud of. Celleste doesn't seem to understand this sentiment, since her time growing up has been the least sensible out of the bunch of first-timers. Sharie can't recognize the gathering mess that Celleste is, but she sure wants to befriend her.
She nods, and smiles, happy that she at least looks at her face. “I mean... Your sword is great and everything. I saw it as clear as the fog when you cleanly cut a Swifter in half. I don't rob that from you. Just be a bit better about the mission. You can slaughter them all the same. ”
“Is that so? Those lizards seemed brittle. Is that even a word? I heard it from a teacher... Like paper, right? Paper is thin and weak, cutting it is as easy as tearing them apart.” Celleste says, frowning as if unsure if she is asking herself or Sharie. “Anyway! I want to fight tougher opponents. Where are some Rank 2 monsters? Those are tougher, aren't they? The teacher said so. Word by word.” She turns on the spot, innocently asking the right question, and watches the city and the fog around.
Her body is itching for a fight, and her mind has never been sharper. She wants to fight. She needs to fight as the user of the Force. It needs a right heart for that. Adrenalin that steady the flow, and cycle that has to remain in tranquility. Though she appears she doesn't know much about the workings of the Walkers, nor the cases of the Darks, or this City itself, she doesn't need to know common sense.
Sometimes, Walkers can be simple people, with simple desires. Kill and fight is what they want, and that is what they shall be given.
The world won't complain whether it is right or not. People won't complain for sure. Less Darks always means fewer problems.
Out of this city's current challengers, Celleste is the least pressed to even care about this place, its hiding Darks, or secrets. Even though she has never been in such a place before, she feels about it as if it's a small village instead. The world is much bigger than this. Dangerous, hideous, and nasty. That is her idea and reality.
Australia has no cities of this caliber. No more, after the disaster that was the 4th Dark War 25 years ago that left the majority of the world cracked. Years of its darkness cemented the destruction of the coastal cities of Australia, involving massive scale movement of all Darks around the northern part of Euroasia, which moved through all of its land, before ending in the southern point. That one has been Australia, with additional losses including Korea, and steep damages all through Asia of that time period. Inlands of the Euroasia were better than usual, since land has always been huge, and population scarce.
A good thing about this time period was the loose ends of this 4th Dark War, and the brief win of time allowed Japan, China, and India to catch a short breath, reach major stakes of defense structures, and grow the majority of present powerhouses. The cost was steep, however. Some countries straight-up lost what was left of them, and they either kept crumbling until nothing was left of them, or they gave up their land to join others.
Because of this latest Dark War, which has left Asia bare of proper soil, Europe is in a neverending struggle to meet a proper stronghold. Time is as tough as the reality of those lost years.
Most present powerhouses are those that survived such dark times the best.
Time, sacrifices, and power are reasons why it even occurred, and natural advantages speak a lot about survival, regardless of whether Darks migrate, or want something in Australia. Some even speak and believe that Dark War is just an excuse for humanity. It isn't as if it is unnatural since the Dark War has been a thing ever since it all started. It never stopped. A flow of Darks wiped out 90% of humanity in a couple of years at the very start of it all and didn't cease to decline that much. Humanity did to absurd proportions. Countries and kingdoms ceased to exist. Few remain.
It is a miracle that some forces keep their heads up and try their best to survive or fight back.
Regardless of losses or wins that could never outstretch the losses, the 4th Dark War is a name that depicts specific disasters. It has been a time that left deep scars on the current power scaling, and every organization calls it a catastrophe that drives every one of them to the limit or the very end. 4th has been the latest, so far.
Not only has Australia become a wasteland because of it--not as if it hasn't been that before--but the loss and what came afterward has been deep regret to many current powerhouses. What comes out of the New Australia hunts them all, puts nightmares in their spirits, and angers their souls.
Sacrifices have been made countless times in the past, and the majority of them always end up in regrets. The desert, general hellish landscape, and geology of New Australia scare the current reality.
Few humans did survive those 4th Dark War Tides. Darks venture too deep into Australian lands as if putting all towards it, and making it their nest. Most are still there, and it isn't the worst. It is far from a lot of land, so that allows some minor breath between figuring out many other problems.
Living will have to keep going. No matter what the time and this world has. Those who manage to live out of New Australia aren't normal and turn savage like the Darks.
Humanity can survive unnatural things and no matter what, it is a desire of many to keep going.
Celleste has seen things of utter nightmares, and most of it isn't something she is willing to share with anyone. A cold silence is her favorite tool. In fact, New Australia has been stabilized after many years of dormancy. The 25 years did make a tough time, but as with all losses that came before that time period, life has to adjust itself. This time is no different, even though time can be a bitch.
Since the start of the Apocalypse, the Darks are under constant watch of numerous technical, and clever people. It is an advantage that humans have. Clever heads. No matter the harsh reality. It has been similar in world wars in the 20th century, even though that part sounds like it is from millennials ago since the current world is nothing like the 20th century. Harshness births opportunities and clever minds among the people put survival and knowledge to another level.
At least that has been the key element of many present powers that keeps living.
Observing the Dark is a key that many consider important. Their motives, moves, and numbers are under constant watch, lest there be an advantage to have. Their number has always been the biggest obstacle, and the second is the lack of power to obliterate them to the very end.
Celleste hardly sees the point in the past. What has already happened, doesn't concern her. Reality and the future are before her, and she doesn't even know those monsters she killed are named Swifters. It's not something she needs to consider all too much. They died the same, as others. They bleed the same, and she finds them the same as any other monsters. Hideous, but... weak?
She ushers in her new strength, and the contorting mark in her right hand feels strange. It wants to kill them like she does. She likes this feeling, even though it puts her arm in a predicament and weird flow, and itch. No matter how Darks have differences in appearance, who would care about that? Kill is an excuse to get rid of the problems of thinking of them further.
A simple logic, the other girl beside her thinks.
Watching her curious expression, Sharie is speechless by this girl, who appears as she thought. A rather strange indeed. “I... I don't know about Rank 2s. I bet there are even some 3s, but it isn't as if some go before our faces. Let's just keep going and meet some. I suppose a hunt is already there, and it isn't as if hiding is clever. Darks want to kill us like we do. They will always come to us.” she says.
Celleste hums a breath, accepting this opinion to be good news. She cherishes her great sword that rests in her right hand. She wants to keep it going forever, but Sharier argues to her to let it go. 2 days won't go fast unless the Vial Extraction goes beyond the current mixed results.
***
In other sections of the city, the fights are already starting to take proper shape. Everything is under constant surveillance of many Walkers, while butlers do the most work. Tiberon and Agatha are the prime watchers and overseers of this whole city. It is under their grasp like the power in their bodies.
This is simple training grounds in the vision of a better future. A project that has been under development by the Academy. It is a natural dark fortress, and it hides nasty threats. Not for this pair, however, that stands on top of the highest building in this city, which appears to be half of a skyscraper, whose height has been cut in half at some point in the past. The last open floor serves as an observatory and leading position of this city under the leadership of the Academy.
There are no cameras this time around. The only choice to get to see some results is by their own eyes, or by reports of butlers who are watching the 4 teams at all times.
“It's starting, doesn't it?” Tiberon says, leaning his back on a chair that has seen better years. “Howls echo. Blood splurges. I feel the tension of the death. Darks die so those youths have a good time. For now, that is.”
“Yes. And it's not your fault.” Agatha says, mocking this man's previous trial that was his idea. As for this one, he has no choice about its details or stakes. He has to comply with the traditions, and the Box Hunt is an excuse to ensure these youths will undergo fights in a traditional environment of proper Walkers.
There is nothing artificial about this city apart from the difficulty. This used to be a city full of Dark Hordes, and Rank 7s had nests for long years in this city. Not anymore.
Having their first experiences in a steady manner is important, and the Academy needs to fully understand the recruits that will go into their ranks. After all, the physical battles against the Darks are the greatest way to get stronger and understand the heart and premise of these youths. It is also important with regard to the System, experiences with Emblem, and many ways one could even grow as a person will become apparent.
Nothing speaks better than seeing the first hunts of new Walker. Some could be nasty, ending in the blood of both parties or straight-up deaths. Pain and damage aren't rare. Not even in this place, directly under Academy's vision.
The younger the Walker is, the easier is it to die. That is a common saying that speaks of Darks, more than humanity. Further in the ranks are powers and options to keep one's life intact, and one can begin to shine against the Hordes or Tides alike. But at that point, the interest shifts to much more menacing lights. Those are the actual dangers of the most insane proportions. Rank 6s and above Darks, along with literar hunts of their habitation.
For now, the youths under this skyscraper will experience the most growth that can happen in Walker's life. Those youngsters are the future, one way or another, or could crumble as quickly as rising to their feet. It wouldn't be rare by any means.
“Fault? Don't say that...” Tiberon says, frowning and glancing out to the city. “Faulting is no one's problem. Not now. Not here. In fact, you watched it all with a smirk on your face, I bet.” he says, mocking Agatha's attempt to seize the upper hand.
“Just you wait. Some people won't be happy with what you did in the 2nd Trial. Forget that, even the 1st Trial, and changing it midway through is out of the question! Margareth will be pissed, and even if you will like that, bearing the consequences from the principal isn't fine.”
“What?” Tiberon shouts, appearing surprised. “But it was your suggestion! Change, I mean.”
This time, Agatha can't fault his words and grunts in frustration. She can't argue against his logic all the time. 1st Trial required someone who could salvage unsuitable limits. Tiberon made a few mistakes, forcing the students and the first-timers to go against one another. For the better lack of a term, she is at fault for some of those mistakes too, but not for the 2nd Trial. That one, she accepted and didn't take part of, because of Tiberon's undeniable intention to seek the youths by himself. That by itself hasn't been wrong at all, but the way he did some of those examinations with his style... #]
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
She gets a headache every time she thinks about it.
Seeing her silent figure, Tiberon grabs his chance further. “You see, I prefer the 2nd Trial to be more difficult and subject to every one of them. Some took it better. Others not. That is almost everywhere in today's world. Some live through failure, other grits their teeth and steady their resolve.”
“I am not arguing about it.”
“Hell be damned. You do! I think I made quite a good observatory in my case, and for others too. Seeing those unique youths under my vision and care is best done under my supervision. That is the part of my charm. Making custom suggestions and time for the 10 of them was great! You read them all already anyway, and I didn't notice a single speck of shame on you, except that one regarding Gale, or... was it other too?”
“I did. Alright, I did see them and accept them. Others may now.” She says and gives up, taking the past for what it was, so she focuses on the present. “Are you happy?”
“Sure. Happy is a stretch, but the 3rd trial is interesting regardless of my touch. Wanna bet with the numbers this time around?”
“Again with your bets?”
“Who will finish fastest? Easy bet.” Tiber says, smirking in mischief.
“Fine...”
***
Back in the northern part of the city, William and Rozzante walk through the open street. Side of the road resembles nothing much of the past. Debris lays on top of more debris, and the grass crawls through the countless cracks in the stones, or the ground. Soil isn't part of the city that much. This used to be a stone jungle, rather than a place full of greenery.
Nature took over the streets long ago when the Academy reclaimed this city and ceased the Rank 7 away. Nature then healed part of the city, providing air, but not life. Dark Fog will linger forever, as long as any Darks remain in this place. It is part of their corruption, providing tough sensory problems, and hindering any living.
William doesn't acknowledge it or feel the Dark Fog that much. He knows what it can do, however. It can literary blind people, touch and hinder their movement, and seize the lungs. When one is caught inside, the normal person is dead. Walkers can power through these restraints, but it isn't something that he has yet to notice.
Dark Fog is much more effective in the Dark Tides and Hordes. It is more of a massive storm and foggy wall, that takes a vision of a tough darkness, which hides the Darks.
Because he fought a simple Swifter, its Dark Fog hasn't been part of much of its power. Only a few things can help make Rank 1 Darks strong. Rank Ups: eating Walkers, humans, or eating one another. The presence of an Alpha, or high-rank Dark also grants some strength to their morale, making every low-rank stronger when in a group.
William thinks for what he has, and constantly shifts his left hand to his right, scratching his skin which is itchy ever since the first fight. His mind is getting clouded by weird feelings, while his body condition remains the same. Something in his head isn't right, and he thinks it is the kill or the Emblem. System or the Mindless Eyes could be that too, but Rozzate constantly says it is too early to make any stops. Not until he fights, at least.
So far, they haven't encountered anything after their first ambush. Rozzante is clearly frustrated since he has special ways he could detect Darks, by using his perception-based Skill. He also promised William to take care of the next enemy to show him what he can offer.
Rozzante more or less understands what William can offer, albeit the full capacity of one's Emblem is a touchy topic that is hard to fully talk about. The same goes for him, and everyone else.
There is a catch to the power of perception. Skill is called [Will Sensor] and takes shape in his head. It is hard to point with words, but the presence of any living thing has some voice. He can hear some noise, but they need to appear with a clear intention behind their presence. It is a kind of great supplementary skill that provides support and surveillance. So far, it is Rank 0, and it isn't enough for him to feel the enemies with his own intentions.
There have been a few times when he notices some presence: weird noises, and clutter behind the sharp rising flare in his mind. Mindless Eyes do part of it, he believes, while his own Emblem makes some notice, and strains along it. Those feelings always quickly disappear when range and enemies run away.
This frustrates him to no end, and he is unable to know the reason why is it happening.
He is glaring, and frowning in anger to the rough long street that used to be a main street. Wide, the residues of cars are more noticeable, and the actual road too. There are fewer trees, but cracks in this street leave a lot of grass and even some rare flowers around. William doesn't pay it much mind. Rozante is making him nervous since he isn't used to seeing him like this.
It appears Rozzante is somewhat different in a situation that grinds his nerves, and he can't do much with it. Unlike the time he has seen him in the Academy, he is more vivid, clear, and open, taking the emotions out of his mouth, face, and body.
“I guess some people have that Imposter syndrome or however it's called... It's not a bad thing I suppose.” He assumes and keeps his hands crossed as he walks ahead. He observes the surroundings and looks behind his back while maintaining his Velvet Eyes.
It's a great acting and training method to get familiar with the use of this enchanted vision, and William likes to see things from afar and detailed manner. He believes that improving the supplementary skills is as important as any defense, but less than offense. He likes the way his Vector Claw worked before, and it went smoothly and nicely. He can't wait to see the results of these 2 days of fighting. The System may give him some changes too, but he doubts his Skills will improve all that much.
From what Roman said, the Rank Ups in the Skills are as important as Walker's Rank. It is their factor, and Skills that do reach some Rank Up will have higher familiarity than something that will appear out of the Walker's Rank Up. So far in this day, he hasn't got time to see any change or improvements, but he is starting to notice that his head and Emblem are getting hotter.
William hopes that some change will come to his Bestiary since that is what the System wrote yesterday. Yet nothing changes within him since he won't put a fist up and makes the same mistake as yesterday. He should be careful about it, and think twice before taking anything the System gives him. This also frustrates him, but not to the extent of Rozzante and his lack of combat and luck to meet the Darks.
But the Hunt is already behind him, and only benefits will come out of it. It has been long overdue, and the Emblem in his hand likes it very much.
It took them great effort to find 2 Darks in the next 10 minutes. They are in the middle of the road intersection, open and not hiding.
“Bloody hell... I know those suckers. Those are Hellgars.” William whispers, finding a cover behind the remains of a car. Rozzante does the same since this appears to be a different enemy than a Swifter. Hellgars are one of the tougher Rank 1s, and their defense and offense are better than their flexibility. Their defenses aren't that great to make them an unkillable foe, and they can be killed with a normal firearm. In this case, they have similar power to Swifters, but their power, abilities, and what they can cause are different.
It's not like they need guns to kill them. They are freaking Walkers who are more powerful than some gun. Though, if a gun ends up in their temple, they would die regardless of them, being Walkers. Humans still have physical weakness, and sometimes, it shows more than they would like.
“Those two?” Rozzante says while leaning his head around the wall. “Hellgars, huh? Those aren't that common in Europe. They are more of a Central to South America kind of deal. Beasts of a jungle is their nickname. Hyenas, and dogs too, you see?”
“Will you manage both of them?” William asks, uncaring much about his information since he knows all about those beasts. They are dominant Rank 1s all over the Canadian borders.
He is curious since he doesn't know Rozzante's strength. It is unknown what to expect out of a Mutant. The only thing he knows is that he defeated Julliate with quite ease and that he has some supplementary Skill that gives his head a headache. However, he has yet to talk it out with him. As for what Mutant Type even means, William has his guesses, but lack of research makes it worse. Seeing them with his own eyes is much better than some generic research points, so he glances at the tanned youth before him, and wonders what he will do.
“Who says I can't?” Rozzante tells with a smirk, appearing quite satisfied with this find. He will take those two. “Watch my back.”
Without further ado, he shoots a meaningful glance at William to get out of the way and walks past the car. Almost immediately, both Hellgars spot the approaching figure, who walks with easy steps, and his head and eyes are calm. He doesn't find their Fog pretty, but the many eyes around the Hellgars meet his. It is a stare down and neither side is losing.
Both Hellgars appear like overgrown wolves, with overall height to Rozzante's chest. Their front legs are taller than their back ones, while their jaws are their main weapons, apart from sharp claws that aren't too flexible at their paws. They can get the job done, meaning, they can slice opponents apart. Their priority is chewing, and they can tear flesh and even some thin metals apart.
Paired with small 2 eyes on each side of their face, they growl at Rozzante who puts his arms into a horizontal position to his sides.
“Come one, little pups. I will butcher you for the first time.”
Behind his back, William watches the scene with a dubious, yet curious face. He is also ready to shout arise, and get into action if things get nasty. Around him, the street is tall with buildings, and many places can hide some foes. He can't see them, but silence prevails, and he is sure those Hellgars are alone.
But being unprepared isn't Walker's forte. One should expect everything, and even the worst.
To his surprise, he watches everything unfold through his Velvet Eyes, which enchants his vision and allows him to see the flow of Arcanite travel underneath Rozzante's clothes. However, he can't see anything from his body. He can't even see the Emblem, nor anything indicating Vectors or clear Arcanite.
Then, it changes and the steady picture is before him.
Rozzante takes his shirt off, not wanting to damage it like in the past mistakes. In this sense, he is similarly troubled like William, but in a different way. His isn't Annihilation and William can see that. A most peculiar Emblem bears its way into his skin. It is quite a unique one, looking like one of the rare ones he has seen in his life. It's not singular. Many crystal little dots of points, rounds, or curved shapes spread around his neck, shoulder blades, and upper section of his spine. They all shine and protrude a little out of his body like bones.
Rozzante touches on his power by focusing his attention on his Emblem. Voiceless, he prefers to do things without shouting. It is a lesson he kept hearing from the Walkers, so he focused a lot of attention on getting his Emblem to this point in the last 10 days.
Crystal-like dots glow in tandem with his mindful call, making them physically change. They grow and steer through his skin, moving muscles and flesh, until they appear to encompass a chunk of his upper body and change the shape of his hands. Like some kind of armor or not, the crystals resemble strange spikes, and both hands pulse in waves of a weird breeze and lighting matter.
Fingers remain normal, apart from the flow of power that flows out of his crystal armor that resembles a mixture of some stone and clear crystals. It hugs his neck, forming a line through his spine and rounding around his shoulders. Most of Emblem's attention goes to the arms, which are thick and heavy like tree trunks. William isn't sure how, but Rozzante's arms are physically longer.
William can't recognize what he has in his hands, but he is sure the Emblem's whole schtick is his hands. They empower it. But it doesn't resemble any Arcanite or Vectors.
By all of his guesses, it should be some element like space, but he isn't that, he supposes. Space Element isn't one of the offensively strong elements that can allow Walker at Rank 1 to fight 2 Hellgars in such a situation. That would mean he would have potential as a Butler, however.
Rozzante appears interested in some limits or please. He looks like a totally different boy, appearing as if he is a warrior in his armor. He puts his hands forth, moving and clutching the waves with his hands and molding them through his fingers and mind.
It comes in handy, since both Hellgars attack at the same time, pouncing forth thanks to their incredible jumping speed. Both stretch their jaws at him, wanting to chew part of his arms off. They wait for nothing in their hunts and are in front of him in a couple of seconds. Each goes to a different limb.
Then, they stop midair, struggling in nothing. Even their movements of mouths snap shut as if something is clutching their bodies.
It's Rozzante's doing. Both hands are clutching the matter in his fist, his fingers touch this weird matter and he can mold them fine. His face is contorting in focus, but it shows unyielding power and resolution, but also pain.
As always, he can't properly control this power. It is rough and hard. He could only strike with all of his power and lacking control. He can't hold back at all. That is a dangerous, and hard problem he has to solve. And also a reason he defeated Jullieta, since he smacked her with nothing until she gave up and almost fell through the window.
Stepping sideways, he lets his palms open, allowing the Hellgars to pounce at their previous target. They both know the prey isn't at their front, so they change their direction in a split second once they hit the ground.
However, the prey isn't there any longer. Rozzante jumps higher than any human ever could, and before the Hellgars have a change of heart, he falls down like a meteor, cracking the ground between them, and his palms clutching their necks. He pours the power through his fingers, straining it to the limits.
It takes a moment of hesitation before their neck snaps, and they are dead without knowing how.
Watching this from not that far away, William is speechless by everything. Mainly how easily he managed to outmaneuver 2 Hellgars out of all Darks that are known for potent close-quarter combat and quicker-than-average reflexes. He can't figure out why they stopped in midair though.
It is kind of surprising, but not so much considering the stupid decision of those two Hellgars. They both attacked at the same time and not far from one another. Pouncing forth and even turning at the same time has been their fatal mistake. It was as if Rozzante faced a single one, which can make things quite easy for him.
Sighting, yet with some strain and focus on his face, Rozzante claps his hand, causing his Emblem to disappear back into its previous shape but his face contorts in pain and discomfort. As he does so, William walks to him, returning him the shirt that is on the ground some distance away. He observes his body, the matter in his hands, and his face too.
“Thank you,” Rozzante says, somewhat tired but in great condition.
“That was wild. What was that matter? Some partial element?” William asks curiously.
“Yep. A special one, in fact. Mine has the power of Gravity which you probably read about, but have not seen many examples of.” Rozzante says in quite smug expression. Even a massive strain on his body, which changes its form from inside out, cracks his bones, and moves his muscles, stops him from doing such expression. His Battle Form is nasty and very stressful.
William couldn't help but nod and drop the Extractor beside the two dead Hellgars. It is time to reap the rewards.
“See?” Rozzante points to his accomplishment. “I wasted no blood whatsoever.”