A pristine white spear whipped through the air, each rapid strike scrapping off the edge of Donny’s shield. Mujin shifted to the side and Donny turned with him, letting the spear slide off his shield as he cleaved down. Mujin darted to his open side past the axe with ease but a jolt ran through his expression and he burst away as Donny crashed through, shoulder first.
“Never fought much before all this, did you?” Mujin lunged back, ignoring the question, jabbing away at Donny’s defensive stance. “Easy to tell who the real psychos were before the tower and who just started.”
Donny started closing the distance, his rough and gritty movements throwing Mujin off enough to slow his response. He kicked a cloud of dirt at the spearman’s eyes, swinging an axe down where he moved. Mujin flourished his spear to parry the axe away and Donny stepped on his foot, slamming his helm hard into Mujin’s face. The dragoon slid back, dark blue scales fading away from his undamaged face.
“You’re too clean. Real fights don’t go down like training.” Donny walked around Mujin as he spoke, shield side facing. “Three different styles of combat, basically. Aggressive, defensive, countering. I’m a counter type, you’re aggressive. If you know what the other guy’s gonna do, you can play it to your advantage.”
“Defense and counter are the same thing.”
“Anyone actually teach you anything?” Mujin glared as Donny continued. “It’s about intent, yeah. Defensive fighters focus on avoiding damage and just wait for an opening. Counter fighters actively create them openings. They’re second turn aggressive fighters. Well, it all starts to blend at the top but people generally favor one style.”
“Karla and Shin do not.”
“Yeah, well they’re not exactly normal, mate. Karla is all three perfectly and Shin is… a freestyler. Don’t really stick to one thing, just does whatever’s best in the moment. Don’t even waste your time trying to copy them. You can’t.”
Mujin burst again and Donny chopped down his axe. Mujin took a step in range and shifted to the side as Donny overextended just slightly. With no wasted movements, Mujin thrust his spear at Donny’s open neck, and a shield tapped his spear off course. Donny’s axe adjusting mid swing and cleaved into Mujin’s dragon scaled side, sending him sliding back. And before he could react, a perfectly timed Shield Charge sent Mujin crashing across the ground, though for just a moment as he flipped up to regain his stance.
“Easier to show you this way.” Donny’s weapons and armor disappeared as he took a fighting stance. Mujin paused, unsure of what to do. “What, too scared to fight without your stick?”
Mujin’s spear and gauntlets vanished too as he flickered ahead. He slipped Donny’s punch and snapped the knight's head back with a jab. Donny powered through with a straight cross and Mujin deflected with deft arm movements, striking back three times in turn. The dragoon jumped over a side kick and kicked back, first to the knight’s chest, slowing his push forward and snapping a second up to side of his face.
Mujin darted all around as Donny pressed in with powerful blows behind a high guard. The knight’s strength was much higher but Mujin was more than twice as fast and much more skilled with the unarmed combat skill, and it showed. Not a single hit handed on the disciplined dragoon as he peppered Donny with rapid strikes.
The rapid barrage slowly forced Donny more and more into his defensive shell, turning into little more than a punching bag. Mujin’s kick up was blocked but a follow up to to ribs landed clean. Donny’s right hand dropped too low out of the guard. Mujin was about to move but a thought cross his mind. It was too obvious, too perfect.
And as he thought, he saw the flaws in Donny’s deception and the true opening to his side by his stance slightly off balance. Mujin feinted right and darted in. He snapped a punch to the knight’s open temple and a crushing counter hook crashed into his own chin, slumping him hard to his knees.
“See, I focused on defense so you never got a clean knockout in.” Donny spoke as Mujin failed twice before staggering to his feet in a daze. “Those fast hits hurt but it weren’t no danger. I knew you’d change up because of that last bait and what I said about styles and all that. And… I knew you’d dodged straight back so I put the punch further back. Set you up for something I could land.”
“Cheap tricks…” Mujin muttered out in contempt.
“Ain’t no fucking rules in fighting, mate. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Ain’t no end to fights either, not anymore. Every single thing we do is setting up for the next time. You should have won that, yeah. You got all this skill, problem is your mindset.” Donny tapped his head. “Think about winning. Think about how the other person wants to win and how to win against that. That’s all it is.”
Mujin held silent for some moments in contemplation before drawing back his spear and taking a stance. “...again.”
Donny’s armor and weapons returned as well, taking a stance with a smile. “No limits now.”
---
Johan walked briskly through the halls of the capital’s new Basilica, impeccably crafted he had to admit, perfectly replicating the previous building lost to the Change though grander in scale. Might was not all the Tower had given them. He glanced briefly at the rows of guards lining the walls everywhere he went. Donning identical similar thick leather uniforms also resembling the prior era, though now with more metal armor, particularly their pauldrons and helms.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
His own newly bestowed attire followed the same principle. A sleek gambeson overcoat, pristine white to symbolize the purity of his teachings and principles, with a red mantle and circular cap to symbolize the human blood running through his veins. And around his neck a gold chain bearing the carved amulet of a sun. He would be the first to admit it didn't suit his somewhat plain features and hay brown hair, but it was the church’s consensus to retain as much of the previous era as possible so as to pacify the people’s fears and unrest. A decision they had employed great lengths to see realized, evident by the capital he had just entered from.
“Cardinal Johan.”
Johan turned to find a familiar face. Wide eyed and humorless with an ever present passive expression, the gray haired man thirty years his senior wearing the same attire as himself matched his pace as he walked next to him through the halls.
“Cardinal Hans.” He greeted in return.
“I must congratulate you on your elevation. It is now more than ever that Sol needs his devoted hands.”
“Indeed. I will strive to guide his light as best I can.” The former bishop replied.
“See that you do.” Han’s expression did not change but the air about him grew more serious. “These are darker times we face.”
The two headed down another corner into a foyer towards an iron door guarded by two elite paladins. Johan and Hans held up their sun pendants which shone in warm modest light. Neither paladin moved but the doors opened and the cardinals passed through into the council chamber, immediately greeted by turning eyes.
Sitting in silence along the three layers of wooden counters along the circular chamber walls were nearly 80 others wearing the same red and white clothes. Half of them new, just as Johan was, brought in to replace those who fell victim to the trials. Hans walked right up to the highest layer while Johan himself turned left to his designated seat in the middle layer.
A man with a golden sash over his mantle knocked a mallet thrice on the counter the moment he was seated. “The council is now is session. Cardinal Hans.” The old cardinal recognized the thin stone faced man’s raised hand.
Hans stood from his seat. “The commonfolk continue to grow in power, such that many start to believe they can manage without the church’s protection. We cannot permit such sentiments to spread further nor the misuse of power in unfit hands… The church must establish a system of conscription, lest they become a danger to themselves.”
“The coffers are strained as it is with the reconstruction.” Another objected. “We should instead continue to prioritize the reestablishment of order. The paladins are sufficient to maintaining order.”
“Maintaining order is hardly the only concern.” A smooth tongued man of sly confidence spoke next, curled brown hair down to his shoulders and a thin goatee. “Unholy abominations of all sorts roam the lands in greater numbers than we’ve ever seen. The paladins are spread too thin. We should expand their ranks no matter the cost.”
“Too naive!” A bald broad faced man with a thick mustache and wicked eyes bellowed as he rose, his demeanor more suited for a battlefield than a chamber of discourse. “So long as that wretched King of the Night walks these lands, we will not know peace. We must rally an army at once and rid the world of his scourge once and for all!”
The mallet slammed on the counter again. “The current matter is the spread of power within the people, Cardinal Odwin. Do not derail the discussion.” Odwin’s displeasure was evident to all but he kept his silence and sat back down.
Johan saw his chance in the lull. “An expansion of the church’s military may not necessarily drain the church’s resources. Most among the commonfolk are of meager origins. They will not ask for much. A mere offer of protection, food, and status will appeal to many.”
"Wisdom of experience?” Odwin snidely responded, though Johan ignored it.
“Now is not the time for indecision. The conscripts can be sent to the outskirts and lacking towns, bolstering the protection of the people in the church’s name while conserving the Order’s strength and means to defend the capital.”
The arbiter scanned the silence of the chamber in thought. “All in favor?”
Cardinals rose their hands one by one until over two thirds showed their support.
“The church will form a new militia from the commonfolk.” A single strike of the mallet brought the topic to a close. “Cardinal Lazarus.”
The goateed man from before stood. “Speaking of power spreading amongst the people… the number of heretics grow more by the day. Worse still, they are beginning to organize more effectively. I fear if we do not stamp out these vermin quickly, the theocracy will be overrun with cults.”
“Then, release the constraints of the Inquisitors.” Odwin spoke again. “Dainty hands cannot purge dissent.”
“Those rules are in place for the sake of the people.” Johan spoke before anyone else could.
“If a few innocent must be martyred for evil to perish, so be it!”
“Far more than a few have lost their lives already.” Johan countered once again. “Mobs driven by fear run rampant in the towns and villages, and innocents are burned without trial. The people must be organized, centered around the parish churches and bishops reinforced with new militia. Under the guiding hand of the church, the mobs will instead become effective volunteer enforcers.”
Odwin slammed his fist on the counter. “Damn you, whelp! What do you know of effective measures?!”
“Cardinal Odwin.”
“Militia and mobs! Do you mean you mean to surrender the church’s authority to the people?!”
“Calm yourself, Cardinal Odwin.” The Arbiter spoke more firmly, such that the warmongering zealot forced himself to sit and be silent once more.
“Good cardinals of the church, it is for the sake of the church’s authority that I suggest these measures. To combat the threats facing us, to restore the people’s faith in Sol and the church’s guiding hands, is that not of the utmost priority?”
“The notion has merit.” Hans voiced his agreements.
In the accompanying silence once again, the Arbiter called a vote and over half sided in favor. “Cardinal Albrecht.”
A wiry decrepit old man lower his hand to a staff and rose to his feet. “I believe it is about time to discuss the matter this council was no doubt convened for. Intruders from the other worlds.”
The chamber fell silent at the topic. It was one few were keen to bring up, giving their very existence was not even hinted at in the scriptures, let alone the almighty tower that brought them all under its wing. It was a glaring and damning omission, one the pope had not yet given a strong answer for.
“There is nothing to discuss.” Odwin remained seated. “No heathen shall be tolerated.”
“I must agree.” The moderate Hans spoke. “Invaders who have not even heard the words of Sol are a most pressing threat.”
“What we need most of all,” Lazarus confidently positioned. “Is a way to uproot them once they dig into our soil. Cardinal Johan’s ideas have given me one of my own. I believe the people can be put to use here as well.”
Johan said nothing for the matter this time, already aware of the direction the discussion would turn. He had known it long before, but in these last few weeks it was more apparent than ever. The theocracy was rotten to its core. Selfish cardinals, slaves to power and privilege. All their talk of justice and protection rung hollow in his ears. But it was no matter. His cult would soon usurp them.