In the desert, you can’t remember your name,
cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain
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“Raise your guard, Marily,” said Reginn.
His daughter did as she was told, and readied for battle. From the hero’s perspective, Marily was less of a second chance for those poor souls to live on, but an entirely new life, who would have her sorrows, struggles and identities in life. For now, she was in a strange state — perhaps due to the mismatch of her body and mind. She knew little of other people, and without other people, there is no ‘you’ or ‘me’.
Identities are relative, and if all were identical, there would be no identities. It is our different births, experiences and the people we meet that shape who we are.
For now, Marily is but a blank canvas and Reginn had to choose the first stroke carefully.
Reginn immediately began the spar, but reduced his strength to naught and carefully attacked — slowly. This was the most delicate he had been, for he feared his own scars.
After only a few sessions, Marily was already at intermediate levels thanks to the information transfer spells from both Elem and Reginn, learning of the human world, history, language, mathematics, science and combat. However, she still rarely spoke, though she did not seem sad. Marily still felt happy and melancholy but expressed meekly. This made it especially difficult for Reginn, who already had a hard time understanding and reacting to normal human behaviour delicately.
This was one of the main reasons he began the practices, not only to teach her to protect herself, but to learn to communicate through combat. Reginn began to push her on and picked up the pace. The hero demonstrated perfect forms of Acosta and struck with pinpoint precision. The key element of Acosta was the weight of each movement. This was not a martial art of nimble jabs and cuts, but powerful strikes. This was due to the fact that against higher-level foes, jabs and such were completely meaningless, and only the strongest attacks would matter. It was like using either needles or hammers against a brick wall. Needle could be more effective in many circumstances, but not in his field of work.
The problem, of course, was stamina and speed. Both were available to expand through training, but speed in particular was extremely inherent, as the different species boasted different reaction and movement speeds. It was as if they lived in a different speed of reality, either watching the universe that surrounded them faster or slower.
Faster, slower, steady, andante. Reginn and Marily lived in different worlds, but Reginn continued on. Slowing down to her walking pace.
“...!”
Even while falling back to the ground, Marily remained silent. Reginn thought about disciplining her to speak, to share her thoughts, but was unsure if that would be the right decision. It would be good for her, but would it be the best for her? In the end, he decided that the right time would come. A gate forced open will break, and it is better to enter invited.
“Reginn!”
The hero turned to find Elem, accompanied by… Sivrit. It was the middle of the day, and Sivrit was left with an unexpected amount of free time, seeing that the entrance for the RGA was shifted a few weeks later. She had organized a picnic, prepared by her chefs. The salivating aroma of the hearty sandwiches, combined accompanied by a rarely-seen-in-picnics plate of meat, only the elite ingredients were allowed.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Around the picnic basket, all sat on the chairs provided, along with a table and sun umbrella. It seemed that Marily shared Reginn's love for meat products, as she quickly finished her plate, then began prying on others’.
“So Reginn, where do you guys plan on staying?”
“...I’ll find someplace in the city — probably through the royals.” said Reginn, “Marily will attend the academy after all. She will live a life no different than a normal girl’s.”
Suddenly, the meal was interrupted by a mirage appearing above the grass, as ominous wind blew. From there appeared… Zealot, and an accompanying friend.
Reginn immediately took guard but restrained himself not to attack. While Elem was present with him, it would be too great of a risk with Sivrit and Marily around. Furthermore, he quickly scanned the stranger, and found him to have little mana, meaning that he was most likely an icho user — oil to Reginn’s water.
Instead, the hero decided to let Zealot continue.
With a smug grin on his face, Zealot finally spoke after seconds of tension.
“...Don’t worry, brother. I’m not here to hurt you or your little friends,” said Zealot, “And hey, Elem! Long time no see, it's like a whole reunion after 2000 years, huh?”
“...”
“Anyhow, I just wanted to congratulate you on the whole ‘Kyriekaos’ fiasco! I’ve been a keen viewer ever since we last parted ways. Demon lords sure are amazing, huh?”
Reginn knew that that was not the reason he was here. The demon lord revealed that he had many allies, and knew all about the events succeeding his departure. He must’ve known that the hero was in a weakened state as well but spared him as always to show his dominance.
However, Reginn was no longer the man he was at the beginning of his new journey.
“...Zealot… Gilgamesh, I still have not forgiven you, and I never will,” said Reginn, “but how about a spar?”
For the first time, Zealot held a curious, surprised expression on his face. Reginn only knew now that he had been playing by Zealot’s plans all along — he was predictable. To defeat the demon lord, what he needed was not more intelligence or power, but a new perspective. The battle had begun ever since they were born, and each combat event was but a comparison of prowesses so far, but the true victory did not mean punishment for the opposing side, but the triumph of one’s ideologies. Reginn’s dream was to serve the Goddess, and he would learn to do so.
The demon lord found no deadly intent, no ill intent behind Reginn’s words or stance. His brother had grown up.
“...I accept! Like the good old times, huh?” said Zealot, “Karudo, stay back alright?”
“...Yes.”
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No blood streaked across valleys and mountains, none of the blows shaping the next thousand years of the land. There were no stakes in this battle, but peace of mind. No lives were lost, no sleep was lost. The red-haired man had met more people, more people to protect. However, he was no longer a simple guard dog, but a member of a family. And there it was,
The first strike.
The first block.
The first banter.
The first laugh.
The first draw.
… And the second beginning of life.