Gernibel looks around, trying to sense Vidar’s presence and hears a Mico Motus behind him, he takes a defensive stance with his sword in a blocking position. Vidar is balancing on the tip of his boot while the other is behind it, Pizarro realizes Vidar is standing on the air which Travelers don’t have access to but Beschädigt ones.
“Sorry that I am late. Just desecrated Reinhard’s grave!” he says, flipping the widest smirk holder off with his destroyed hand. They lunge at each other, Vidar tries to do a sweep attack from the left side then follows up with a Caelum Piercer after the previous attack hits the air, Gernibel decides to throw some roof tiles and they pathetically bounce off Vidar’s chest. One massive puddle of blood erupts from both of them, there was a slash from Tacticun’s side of his stomach and one big gash on Pizarro’s left upper chest part, they both put one of their boots forward. Cracking the tiles under the pressure and making the blood ripple, Gernibel ability of disintegration is going into an advanced overtime stage to at least stop Vidar for some good minutes but he did another Caelum then grabbed it before making it the substitute skin for his arm, and Vidar does a overhand with Gernibel uses a underhand strike.
An explosion representing the vector North Star in the color of purple and gold appears above them and this mysterious figure blocks the attacks barehanded, they stop one with the foot on top of it while the hand grips the other into a firm hold, this figure uses their remaining hand and flips back the hood. He has medium length raggedy white hair, an indigo crescent shape on the side of his face, light and dark purple eyes, and a black military frock coat with a white outline bleeding moon in the same color rhombus shape on the back like their haori.
“You! Why’re you here?” Gernibel shouts, breaking his usual expression, the figure looks at the 16 years old in a childlike way before grabbing his shoulder and teleports away. They end up in a run-down saloon house where literature specializing in dark fantasy would make them weep. Vidar leans his bloodstained Regalia right next to a wall, four inches away from the tattered painting and they sit down on a torn chesterfield sofa with slashes running down. He takes off his boots, revealing red cotton socks and putting them on the sofa’s fabric.
“My name is Bellion.” he says, healing Vidar’s fucked up arm, the meaning of Bellion in Malvena’s language is called, ‘The deceptive being’ because Bellion has been described as childish but remorselessly dangerous then completely reverses it so nobody knew what was going on. There was a knock on the door and kicked down.
“Leave now or we will cut both of you up!” a female from the right shouts, as Bellion comes back, giving Vidar his haori back and he graciously accepts it. The gang draw their weapons not realizing how idiotic it is, Bellion grabs one of the members shadow and it was one with a big belly so he twirls around his index finger before pulling her closer then with a flick to the stomach. It explodes in viscous red blood, destroying everything including what made her belly big, the woman’s heart falls out onto the ground with an audible splat. Shattered ribs protrude out of the ripped skin, it is shredded like slicing up fabric with a serrated segmented blade, and half of the body is gone leaving a massive gaping hole in the right side. The rest of the gang members look on with shock at their own comrade reduced to nothing but a carcass and tattered clothing, Bellion’s eyes were pure voidness showing no emotions they escape, taking the body with them.
He claps his hands before skipping over to the sofa then laying down and falling asleep right next to Vidar, he pulls Bell close to him, it’s nice to comfort each other people when the world spares no kindness. They say that the Travelers are neither good nor bad, Justinian is openly sadistic and lacks ethics, but those statements come from Kathens which is the country name and capital is Altdorf, they think that Travelers are a massive imperfection which need to be purged. That otherworldly power is taboo while ignoring the fact they’re trying to make an imitation of them, sometimes denying the blatant hypocrisy that Kathens traditions are built upon. While the Travelers can fall to power hungry ideals and wickedness known as the Corrupted or Broken, it is extremely rare for them to snap before going on a wide scaled massacre, it has happened in the past but that was spitefulness of everyone around the specific person.
Now some are evil like Justinian’s ancestor and others are good but it’s basically a gray area where the line blurs while twisting out of the shape, to be a Traveler needs a hardened resolve and will in fighting wars where terrifying enemies can destroy cities. Being desensitized by nonchalantly marching down your city’s main road littered with mutilated bodies, look at the horrors of war with a cheerful smile on your face, and lastly always pushing yourself past the peak limit to overcome obstacles that there is no hope in beating.
I wake up seeing Bellion putting another bandage on my arm and stomach.
“What do you thinking about gaining mummjarus Vollversion?” he asked to which I shook my head.
“Don’t need it yet unless something’s gonna happen.” Bellion chuckles after slapping the wounded part where Gernibel slashed my stomach. I barely react because I’m having a tense battle against a vengeful unconsciousness and that slap did some good so I think anything to pass the time with.
“Wanna know something about the Menos Maldad? Well too bad because I’m telling you anyway, to be one you need to eat other Mundo’s inhabitants in the hundreds of thousands. Drittschwänste are bottom of the lowest, basically the footsoldiers are powerful but their brain is animalistic, they often fight in a pack beating second seats. Regresado are in the middle and solitary, they eat the bottom of their military chain but that can be regressed back into Drittschwänste because someone got control over the others, one can beat a Traveler almost on par with our Sternritters. Vasto Espada are the big bad and can beat the Sternritters so company zero have to get their lazy ass in to fight those fuckers, highly intelligent, humanoid-like, and immensely powerful. Yeah I can only pray for the citizens of Malvena when you finally snap.”
well shit if that’s not an information dump then I don’t know what is. One of them is probably what Hvithar was talking about, alright I can’t show weakness or end up dying. I think taking my foot off the top of this sofa and someone busts down our shitty door, a fat person walks through with a war scythe over the shoulder.
“Otto!” I shout, while putting on my boots before shrugging the haori off. The doorframe decays around its edges and I grab Purgans, jumping out of the window that is dangling off a cliff landing roughly on the ground, Otto follows after me, thrusting his scythe into the side to slow him down. I throw a pebble at his face and four kids are around the lake in tattered rags, I lean Purgans over my shoulder while waving at them with one big stupid goofy smile then feel this slash going down my shoulder. Otto is nowhere near me and some small kid looks possessed wielding a blue colored axe and I slap him away, I fire a Caelum Piercer at Otto before going in and we throw constant barrages damaging our clothes or in my opponent’s case, his already broken armor. I slice off the robe’s hood pivoting on my foot to thrust into his back, it lodges into the leather strap from the pauldron and had to slash down diagonally, I try a different attack but the left side of Otto’s robe tears and explodes in shredded fabric. The tentacles burst out before lashing in my direction, one made me fly backwards into a massive rock and I felt my back break.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Otto walked up with the tattered left side flowing into the wind before grabbing one of the kids and ripping his clothing even more, that it became looser than a kid with some food eating disorder. My Jenseitiger Druck becomes intensely sinister and I slice off his arm before delivering fatal slashes around the chest area.
“So Otto, you fat bastard! Why did you come here?” I said, slicing upwards on his chin to the forehead before getting launched again by those fucking tentacles, Lionel jumps down slicing off three of those appendages and lands next to me.
“Geez, you look like shit.” he says looking at the damaged rock while offering his hand.
“Thanks cunt.” I joked, taking Jento’s offer and we laughed before facing a pissed off Otto, his robe is cut up from the right side below the shoulder to the left waist. Half of my left sleeve is destroyed, tattered, frayed so I wrap the cloth around my arm again. Those kids are hiding behind the withering trees and we play rock paper scissors for who’s going up first while Otto’s face stitches together, two to three so I lost, immaturity at its finest. I pick up Purgans and nonchalantly walk towards the bounty imitating a weakass whistle.
“He who regains his iron heartbeat after 666 years, obtains the calculating intellect back in 6 decades, and brings his lost hellish power back to himself in 6 years. That is Gran Balor!” Otto shouts, stabbing the blade into the dirt, Lionel’s guys dig themselves out of the ground in a mass of viscous diseases. I jumped on someone’s head raising Purgans over my head, embedding it into his neck and fired a Caelum. Otto thrust the war scythe into my stomach, slowly starting to feel the corruption but I broke the tip before jamming it in his eye socket and crushing a goon’s skull simultaneously. Our breathing is ragged, covered in blood and some seeped into my eye.
“Shit.” I said, rubbing it. Lionel smiles at that before he regenerates again.
“Holy shit! How the fuck are you doing this?” We both yell in unison at this immortal fucker.
“Jinx.” I said, pointing both of my fingers sideways at him.
“Shit!” he shouts, and I punch Lionel in the shoulder. Hvithar is whispering into my ear, constantly pissing himself off because of the bullshit injuries I got when the corruption goes into overtime, Lionel looks at me when Purgans is pointed forward. Never transformed into semi Vollversion but instead became a half-Broken in order to actually kill this fucker, jumping in and erratically swinging my sword everytime the mask on the left side expands, Otto tries to retaliate by trying to knock me off my balance, but I stomp on the staff.
I kept chopping into him destroying every chance his body tries to regenerate. I slice off the upper half, a red orb appears destroying his lower part and I throw him into the cliff laughing maniacally. Lionel jumps in when bundles of black with indigo chains materialize and wrap on my forearms holding me there, unable to do anything but those kids hesitantly walk to me when Lionel smashes Otto’s head in.
“Hey, how is your day?” I said, putting the mask on the right side. They slowly back up seeing my fucked up eyes because of the mask, Kaladon Vlaxon shows up. He is average height, a scar over the left eye made by a war axe, tan skin that can charm any girl, brown hair slicked back, and stupidly handsome that actually makes us sick. Kaladon wears a fancy coat over an embroidered vest.
“Shit, what do you want?” I groan at Malvena’s actual director of the Travelers and he kicks me in the stomach.
He points at the orphans. “You guys stay right there. Now Vidar, a little birdy told me that you couldn’t beat Otto or even fucking Vangron Shield, who by the way is Otto’s goddamn brother.”
Kaladon’s pointing at the mutilated corpse behind him, smirking at this tough fight which to him should’ve been so easy. “Get yourself cleaned up and take a bath, you soft underbelly of a person.”
kicking me again before leaving, I hug the kids in a giant bear hug and started to walk away but they didn’t want me to leave so I kept hearing their bare feet always a few seconds.
“Vidar!” one of them shouts, getting my attention.
“Yeah?” I said, looking at the person who said my name.
“Can you please be our father. Love and care for us, we want your smiles and warmth!” he says, twirling his foot.
“Sure but no pickpocketing me.” I said, laughing when my voice shifted into the distorted one. I take off the cloak and wrapped it around them, Bellion appears with that goddamn explosion and lands in a trashcan.
“You’re getting full Mummjarus Vollversion, and I’m not taking no shit.” he says to which I just shrug much to his amusement after seeing my new adopted children.
“Did you just steal some kids?” I rolled my eyes and side kicked the trash can into a tailor shop, he is still lounging in it. Bellion easily got me clothes.
“You got me a Victorian leather trench coat. Still better than my damaged Hussar jacket even though I can fix it just by using some bullshit Jenseitiger energy.” I said, getting my haori back and kicked a pedophile ass before ripping his upper jaw off with my bare hands, we arrived at the Viajero institute. Jack just shakes his head while opening the gate.
“Vidar, stop kicking people’s asses and let us have some fun.” I promised but added it could also be broken.
“Your sword is still in that post.” I said, walking into the building and they’re astounded by how ornate everything is. They explored the whole building, ate almost all of the food and took a bath but I had to clean them. Their names from oldest to youngest are Simo, Deronimo, Velano, and Grando. I took a bath before changing then going to bed, they also slept with me because I didn’t even commission for rooms, I ended up in my Inner World still twisting like usual.
Hvithar and Purgans are here bickering about the ever increasing hatred to Kaladon and just casual stoicism, Hvithar looks over to me pointing to a all black foreign curved longsword, burgundy colored diamonds on the hilt, the guard is the Cross of Jeremiah, and a red long broken chain sticking out of the ground. Young psychopath me steps between me and that sword, so we gotta fight in order to obtain it, a bunch of irregular variations of Purgans materializes out of the ground. I was stuck with those swords while my first inner entity had the real one, Purgans told me that these represent my fragility and how emotionally unstable I am but Hvithar’s mask is breaking through those cracks, the liquid that flows everywhere is my self loathing and negative emotions that I ever loved the father who betrothed Strife to a fucking rapist monster and decided to explode right in my goddamn face when I was seven.
Strife and papa are standing next to the entrance leading to the city guards or knights, my step mother picks us up before cradling me and Jasmonia. She had a beautiful smile that warms up our terrible days, but papa had this always cold facial expression like he couldn’t even find the strength to show his affection, so I hopped down and ran to him. Dad gave me his favorite jacket, I rub my face into it before Jas pokes me on the shoulder gazing at father before guts and blood explodes haphazardly on me. Jorge’s lower half is standing upright, the spinal cord swings like a hanged person flowing in the wind, and his whole front is nothing but viscous gore.
“Dad?” I said, innocently. Hvithar slaps me in the face saying I had a thousand yard stare and blanking out during his conversation of kicking my ass, Lunam crosses his arms indignantly. I ran grabbing a sword before turning around with the blades crashing into each other, we did dirty attacks to each other while doing swordplay.