There was no elegance or poetry in what they were doing. No matter how hard Raven tried to switch the battle from anything other than a slugging match with Fanciful, freaking Khiafin would just jump in front of her with that weird grin. She knew, a gut feeling, that the moment she got angry and struck out at him or tried to bypass him to flee he would immediately enter the fray. Even if it meant fighting Fanciful too.
Fanciful must have known it too. Every time Raven turned and started to try and head away or gain some distance to start some shenanigans she would hang back and wait, almost like she was waiting for Raven to get fed up and didn’t want to be anywhere near Khiafin herself when that happened.
Hence, the current situation where Raven was once again forced backward by the sheer gorilla strength of the woman in front of her. Say what you would about how moronic Fanciful was, and Raven believed she was a freaking idiot, the stupid person could really swing a stick.
With extreme reluctance, Raven was forced to acknowledge that she was going to have to have a fair fight with Fanciful. The thought alone made her grimace. She hated fair fights.
With a petulant look at Khiafin, she once again turned her back on him and sprang back toward Fanciful. For the first time, however, she brought her sword around and used a skill.
“[Oversoul - Cloud Kill],” she barked out, all amusement having drained from her face.
Raven brought the sword around and a huge partially transparent wall appeared behind her swing. It swept toward Fanciful horizontally, the pressure from the sudden invocation causing the other warrior woman to grimace and leap backward. The attack was too shallow and went right passed her front, just barely grazing her with the fringe of the wind that was produced from the attack. Raven stopped her swing after the near miss and lurched forward, this time moving the huge sword above her head in what was commonly known to be a high guard. She didn’t even look to the side as several people who had been fighting nearby were carried into the huge attack she had delivered. Despairing cries sounded out in addition to sounds of rage.
“[Oversoul Cloudkill - Final Form!” Raven crowed triumphantly. Fanciful had chosen to leap backward instead of to either side, lining her up perfectly for the hammer that she intended to drop in front of her in a line. The air once again shimmered above her attack as it smashed down.
“Oh no! Is… what I’d say.” Fanciful sneered and then disappeared.
Raven followed through the attack and then stumbled forward, already prepared for the move. Fanciful’s weird movement trick may be profound, but it was a lot like Khiafin’s shadow step in how Fanciful had been choosing to use it. The targeting zone seemed to be distance-based instead of relying on shadows.
Fortunately for Raven, it didn’t seem like it was a very long distance or a very short cooldown. Which was why she had been initially trying to just outrun Fanciful without worrying too much about it. Freaking Khiafin.
The pole flashed just above her head as she scrambled to turn around. Sure enough, Fanciful had taken the moment to step behind her with that weirdo winding steps bologna. Raven really needed to learn some of that movement garbage!
Instead of rolling too far and running, which is what she’d been doing before this, Raven lowered her body to the ground and tucked low. Despite the near-zero leverage she had to work with she turned her blade and swept out at knee height, vaguely hoping to chop Fanciful’s legs clean off.
No such luck.
Fanciful hopped over the blade like she were playing jump rope, extending her arm forward and her leg backward, once again trying to spear Raven in the face with blunt end of her staff.
Raven immediately chose to abandon her sword, releasing the handle as she pushed hard with her calves and shot backward low to the ground. She lay on her back, momentarily staring up at the sky with a peeved expression. Stupid Fanciful!
A shadow blocked out the sun. Fanciful was already leaping through the air like a long-jumper. The end of her staff pointed at Raven’s stomach.
Instinct flared up. Raven arched her back and lifted her feet toward her chin, an incredible display of flexibility in motion as she rocked backward and managed to hold her body almost straight up from where her shoulders were braced against the ground. The impact of the staff near where her butt had just been made Raven’s eyes go wide. She twisted on the ground like a breakdancer and brought both feet around, surprising a yelp out of Fanciful as both boots smacked across her chin in rapid succession.
Raven kept her momentum and inertia and used it to spin a few more times on the ground before pausing. She dropped to the ground and then arched her back, throwing herself back up to her feet with a snap of her body.
Fanciful was staring at her with an incredulous look, holding her chin where two dirt marks were shining against her skin. “Lost your sword and you can only fight like vermin?”
"Next time my boots smack your face think you could lick them to a shine?" Raven smiled.
"Pick up your sword already!"
“What?” Raven froze at Fanciful’s words, wondering what had brought that particular comment on. In truth, Raven had been eyeing her sword which was lying a few meters away. She was trying to decide if she could desummon it from there and then resummon it. It was weird, but she didn’t let go of her sword very often.
“Pick up your sword!” Fanciful hissed again, stepping to the side.
Raven’s shoulders straightened even as her mouth dropped open. Fanciful was going to let her get her weapon? If Raven disarmed Fanciful she definitely wouldn’t do the same. She eyed her sword, and then turned her gaze to Fanciful, a crafty look suddenly crossing her eyes.
It couldn’t be… right? Raven eyed the long staff in Fanciful’s hands and tried remembering the ways that she’d been attacking with it. Fanciful… didn’t like it when people got close?
“I’m good,” Raven grinned and dropped into an on guard stance, one hand was held out loosely in front of her and the other sort of hanging off to the side in case she needed it. To be honest, Raven was still getting used to the prosthetic in real life and didn’t really have a good grasp on using it or what to do with it.
“What is that?” Fanciful blurted out, eyeing the stance she’d taken.
“It’s Bruce Lee, you know, Hwwaaaaaah?” Raven hwah’d again because it made Fanciful cringe.
“I know what that is! I mean, why aren’t you getting your sword? Go get it!” Fanciful began stamping her feet, a little girly shriek of rage starting to come out of her mouth.
“Don’t wanna,” Raven grinned lazily.
“Show some respect for your opponent! I’m going all out here! You need to do the same!” Fanciful swept her staff, indicating the sword once more.
Honestly, it just made Raven want to do it less. So much less.
Khiafin coughed lightly into his hand from behind Raven. “She’s very formidable even without the sword. You should take care.”
She didn’t bother to look behind her because she was mildly confident that Fanciful would throw a fit if he tried to attack Raven. As long as Fanciful was standing somewhere she could see Khiafin, she was like an alarm that Raven could watch to keep track of the other killer. She didn’t trust Khiafin not to backstab her even though they were loosely friends and had fought together, but she trusted Fanciful to skreech at the top of her lungs if he lunged at her from behind, how weird was that?
“I’m very formidable,” Raven bragged. “I’m basically the most deadly foe you’ve ever faced. I was taught by the great Tsujimura Kinsuke. Be grateful I'm killing you wth my hands instead of muh mind.”
Fanciful’s expression went blank after a moment of concentration. “Who?”
Raven felt a thrill of anger for the first time during this fight. Before it had been irritation and a sort of aggravation like an itch. Like a scab you just wanted to pick at. Now, it started to coil inside of her and pressed outward. “You wouldn’t know him. He’s not even level 1. Not even a person to you.”
Fanciful sighed and then twirled her staff in front of her once, twice, and then settled on a stance where she could hold it in front of her. “He’s probably another one of those people that just had everything handed to them anyway.”
The anger sparked and flared to life. Little noises and actions became sharper. Raven’s on guard stance became a little more rigid. Behind her she heard Khiafin shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
I’ll deal with you next. Spank you good and proper so you’re already crying when Elisha comes to kick the crap out of you. First though, take care of this very basic stick lady.
“Rule one,” Raven moved forward confidently, stepping over a sweep at her feet as she came into range of Fanciful’s staff. The staff came again toward her midsection and Raven stepped forward while twisting her spine and stomach away from the blow. She repeated the process twice more, dodging two quick jabs of the staff. Then she was only half the length of the staff away and Fanciful started to take a step back.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Raven’s eyes narrowed at the gesture. As expected, Fanciful had an exaggerated personal bubble and was uncomfortable with people being too close to her. Raven had lived shoulder to shoulder with boys and had no such handicap.
Ducked under a swing, smacked a jab away with a hand(taking an alarming 6% health away in the process). She stepped forward quickly, reaching like she was going to take the staff away from Fanciful.
Fanciful grinned at the movement, no doubt relishing the mistake. Trying to take another player’s weapon in combat was risky. All Fanciful had to do was twirl the staff. Unlike reality, weapons were somewhat alive and resisted the grasp of others. By all accounts, Raven would most likely grab the mid-section of the staff, be twirled around several times by Fanciful, then batted into the air like a ball on a stick until she was dead. Probably disappear into the distance after gleaming brightly for a moment.
Raven’s open palm missed the middle of the staff… and turned into a fist. She took another step forward and the fist struck Fanciful’s sternum, causing the other woman to come up rigidly short. Even if it didn’t hurt, the jarring vibration would cause anyone to hesitate if they weren’t used to begin punched. Then Raven was only a few inches away.
Fanciful grunted and tried to twirl the staff. When Raven swept to the side that started to go up and punched her in the side, Fanciful stopped the useless movement and tried to punch Raven with the center meat of the staff instead. Raven used her arm to sweep the blow away… using Fanciful’s arm instead of the staff. Raven stepped even closer, her eyes wide so she wouldn’t miss any reaction from Fanciful.
Fanciful panicked. Then it was over.
A quick step. She set her leg behind Fanciful’s knee. A push, and then Raven followed her to the ground and got a hold of her arm. She put the arm between her thighs and placed her legs on Fanciful’s chest, at first using the extra leverage from the arm to push the staff out of her hands before shifting her focus back to the arm. She put Fanciful’s elbow against her hip and began to twist until she had a firm grip. Fanciful yelped, trying to roll or buck or do anything to dislodge Raven. Raven let one of her attempts at jerking around get through and used Fanciful's own momentum to roll her more face down. A more manageable position.
“Despite all your levels,” Raven sneered. “In spite of all that extra strength and agility. I learned this from Tsujimura Kinsuke, my friend and mentor. Who, by your own admission, was a nobody.”
Fanciful frowned, turning her head slightly as she felt the pressure being exerted on her limbs. There were probably already alerts telling her she was losing a set amount of health as the pressure increased. Soon, Raven thought, she’d probably receive some alerts that the limb was disabled until healed or she rested.
“Submission moves aren’t all that common because it’s hard to strike a fatal blow,” Fanciful sneered back at her. “Losing the arm won’t finish me off, then where will this farce go?”
“Kinsuke always tells me that I should respect my opponent. Give them the same respect that I want given to me. Even if I don’t think they deserve it.” Raven said soberly. She clamped her thighs down harder and locked the elbow in place, slowly releasing one of her hands. Fanciful struggled hard, seeing that it was only one arm. Still, it was one arm and two thighs versus her elbow locked limb. She tried flopping again but couldn’t get up.
“So? Get off me then!” Fanciful hissed. “I’d never put you in such a humiliating position!”
“Yeah,” Raven grunted. She’d finally managed to hold her hand out far enough from herself to summon a knife from her inventory. Forsythe carried one on his belt but Raven had never bothered. It seemed like an oversight now. The knife slowly materialized. It was just a wood knife that she’d gotten to whittle. Admittedly, it was a really good wood knife. Some of the wood from other world’s required a certain type of durability to cut into.
Raven slowly lowered the knife toward the arm she was holding and a savage grin burst out onto her face when she saw that Fanciful was staring at her in disbelief. “W-what are you going to do with that?”
Raven ignored her and continued her earlier thought, “yeah, but the thing about Kinsuke? He isn’t here right now.”
Raven, while holding and locking the arm down and using her entire body and position to force Fanciful to remain lying down, began to stab Fanciful in the arm and shoulder. Every inch she could reach she stabbed. It wasn’t pretty. It didn’t do a whole lot of damage, but it was a slow and constant process. Not unlike whittling.
Fanciful started to shriek and screech, bucking for all she was worth as she watched her bar go. “[Winding Steps]!” She planted her feet on the ground and activated her skill. She and Raven appeared meters away, in the same position.
Raven just chuckled, quietly grateful that nothing horrifying had happened, and continued her slow process. While it might have seemed like a really long time to Fanciful, considering her screams of rage and the insults and profanity that started pouring out of her, it was over in about three minutes.
When Fanciful finally died Raven sat up, legs sprawled out in front of her with her arms pressed on the ground behind her, a look of disbelief on her face.
“Holy crap! The things that woman could say! Did you know that you can’t turn on the profanity filter while your hands are full? Or maybe it was because I was actively murdering someone? I don’t know!”
[Fanciful Has Died]
Raven has leveled up+
Imperial Contribution: +570. Rebel Lieutenant Commander Slain
Raven grinned and turned toward where Khiafin was. Should have been.
The smile left her face and she stiffened. She started to get up when she felt him kneeling behind her. She began to snarl even before she saw the nearly transparent wire settling down over her head. “Oh you piece of sh--”
“[Murder].”
--------------------------
Skill Check in Progress.
Target of Murder: Raven.
Health of Target 33%. Under the effects of Grapple Subjugation, Silence, Prone, Exhaustion, Unarmed, and Garrote. Rolling for Target at Disadvantage.
Target at Disadvantage Determined to be: Fair!
Target has failed survival check!
-------------------------
[Raven Has Died]
Khiafin has gained significant experience but has not leveled up.
Rebel Contribution: +890, Imperial General Slain
Khiafin slowly stood up, scratching his head with a little bit of a guilty expression on his face. He stretched after a moment and considered the information he’d just received.
“I wonder if Forsythe would be made to know that Raven was worth more contribution points?” He wondered aloud.
Khiafin shrugged, looking helplessly down at the dirt. “I was also probably supposed to step in and save Fanciful, but she told me to stay out of it…”
“Hey!” Khiafin didn’t seem to have any problem with the fact that everyone around him was trying their best to stay away from him while he talked to himself. It didn’t help that he had a wide grin on his face. “I wonder what they dropped? Money, money… quite a lot of money? I guess I should return that to them. Forsythe dropped a skillet of… Grandmaster Quality?”
Khiafin seemed to freeze after he pulled the skillet out. It was beautiful. It gleamed and had an aura in the sunlight. “Better return this as soon as freaking possible,” he stammered.
Raven? What had Raven dropped?
Once again Khiafin stiffened. What the hell was up with these drops?
[Solid Metal Arm].
“Examine,” Khiafin sighed the word out with a growing amount of dread. Maybe, just maybe, this had been a really bad idea.
------------------------
Solid Metal Arm - Quality Level (Grandmaster)
An arm that syncs to anyone that uses it as a prosthesis. Perfectly simulating the other arm of the user as long as the user is less than level 1200.
-----------------------
“Ahahaha,” Khiafin used the prosthetic arm in his hand to cover his own face. “I’m so screwed.”
“KHIAFIN!” The scream rolled out across the arena, briefly startling everyone into silence as they looked around for the source of the yell.
The shout of absolute rage in the shout made him instinctively hunch his shoulders. He looked around with a guilty expression. For a second he looked like he was going to throw the arm away. In the end, he just put it behind him. It did nothing to hide it. Instead, the hand flopped pitifully to the side.
It was pointless. He was definitely in trouble.
“Oh, hey, Elisha.” Khiafin smiled, deciding that as long as he acted casual it shouldn’t be too bad. He raised his hand to wave at her as she slowly made her way toward him. Everyone who was battling took one look at her stormy face and who she was heading toward and decided to leave her alone.
“Are you waving Raven’s arm at me?” Elisha’s eyes had already been extremely narrow, but now they were practically slits.
Khiafin froze, looking guiltily over. He had been waving the hand holding that arm. “I can explain!”
“Oh? Let’s leave it for now.” Elisha smiled at him, some of the horrifying rage bleeding from her face.
“Really?” Khiafin was surprised. He decided now would be a good time to put the arm in his inventory, and quickly did so. “I’m glad to hear you say that. So have you decided to choose a faction yet? A lot has happened and--”
Khiafin eyed Elisha as he watched the Empire symbol appear next to her name. Her name immediately went red. Her smile hadn’t wavered in the slightest.
“What? Yes? Go on? A lot has happened?” Elisha nodded encouragingly.
“Yeah,” Khiafin drawled slowly. “Amelia got dragged somewhere else, Aidan ran off, some people,” he coughed into his hand at this point, “decided to attack the government. AA Finals are postponed…”
“Mmhmm. That’s a busy day!” Elisha agreed.
“Yep.” Khiafin squinted, too afraid to move and too worried about her reaction if he continued to speak.
“What else has been going on?” Elisha said slowly, making a ‘get on with it’ gesture with her hand.
“Oh, uh, there’s a lot of fighting going on? Haha. It occurs to me that I don’t know what my guild is doing? I should probably check on them to … for reasons?” Khiafin didn’t like this Elisha. He was beginning to suspect he made a really big mistake when he’d thought this would be fun. I mean, it was fun. It had been fun. It would probably… continue… to be fun?
The last part seemed a little fuzzier the longer he looked at Elisha’s smiling face. She was smiling so hard now she was just baring her teeth at him.
“Oh wow! You probably should. Before you go, tell me one more thing?” Elisha started to laugh slightly.
“What’s that?” Khiafin laughed nervously with her.
“Did you kill my dad?”
“What if I said, no?” Khiafin tried.
“What if I said I knew you did?” Elisha’s smile faded.
Khiafin’s shoulders slowly began to sag.
*****
Raven sat on Amelia’s couch eating a bowl of triple chunky chocolate delight. She was mechanically shoveling ice cream into her mouth while she and Forsythe stared forlornly at the light curtain.
“I can’t believe he got us both,” Forsythe said when there was a lull in the mecha action they were watching.
“I can’t believe you warned me about the hugging and then he hugged me. He’s a serial hugger!” Raven closed her eyes and shook her head.
“He’s hugged before, he’ll hug again,” Forsythe sighed. “Can I have some?”
She offered him the bowl.
“Still, he really should have thought that out better,” Raven said, already regretting her decision to share the ice cream.
“Mm?”
“Yeah,” Raven looked over at Elisha’s form in the chair. Elisha had come over about ten minutes before Raven died and had gotten a brief description of how the day had been going from Forsythe, who had logged out to see if Amelia was awake(she wasn’t). Then, of course, Raven had logged out to look for Forsythe because she ran into the same problem at the Cathedral he had.
Elisha had just given a weird laugh and a smile and gotten up without a word to grab Raven’s cutified neura dive helmet. Raven had started to protest when her small friend had given her a look. It was a look that promised death. It was a look that really reminded Raven of Amelia’s parents. Raven had then volunteered the dive helmet.
“Elisha is so mad. Khiafin definitely killed the wrong people first.”
Forsythe thought about it, then nodded.