The dampness of low clouds that the rising sun had yet to burn off congealed on the raincoats of the party of five as they climbed up Mt. Etna. Traversal was slow at times as the path up was old and eroded. Additionally, there were more threats than the rare mountain predator.
“Move forward at my shot, Caelia,” He whispered with his bow prepared at a target none could yet see.
Caelia readied her staff as she heard the breath escape from his lips. The moment the arrow left the bow, she sprinted forward just in time to see it strike a figure that appeared made of black smoke. In the next instant, Shiro came out from the brush and cut another in half with her Ki. In a couple more steps, Caelia reached the last one and struck it with her Ki imbued staff. The three enemies crumbled into dust that scattered on the wind.
“I think we will be okay from here on out,” Martel said. “They all seem to be at the bottom or underneath the mountains in the caves. I don’t think we will run into any more on the way there, but keep your guard up just in case.”
Whenever their breath would turn rugged, they would break to keep everyone’s energy up and to help them acclimate to the higher altitude. Thanks to Ki, it wasn’t a huge issue.
After a couple of hours, they broke through the clouds which exposed the tips of the mountains. Photographed on the background of the morning sky was a small version of a stone castle atop a flat peak. Suddenly, Martel stopped, which everyone mirrored. He remained frozen for a couple of seconds before he turned to the others and revealed his wide eyes that contained a hint of panic.”
“Keep quiet and confine your Ki is much as possible,” He said in a hushed voice.
“What’s going on?” Caelia whispered back.
“It’s near. No, it’s not near. It’s just so intense that it feels close; the Red Dragon.”
The girls’ eyes went wide.
“Are you sure?” Caelia asked.
“I can feel it’s Ki from here, but I can’t sense its location. If it is a spirit, I would be able to get a general location if it were within range. Honestly, I’m surprised that I didn’t sense it’s Ki sooner. The whole area is thick of it, even on the mountain below. Perhaps the gradual introduction dulled my Ki sensing ability. There are also a large number of dense spirits around, but those all seem to be Dark Troopers. They are in the mountain or down the side of the cliff so they shouldn’t be a problem. We should be fine so long as we do not draw its attention.”
The girls all nodded, and they confined their Ki is much as possible.
“Wait, if it is a spirit, how can it have Ki?” Morgan asked.
“Accident. Made real bodies,” Cali replied.
“Keep quiet,” Martel interjected.
At a slower pace, they reached the entrance to the small castle. It was silent say for the occasional breeze that caused the rotted door to creak as it wobbled. They walked inside and found a large empty room. There were two doors in the back which led toward a smaller part of the castle. The light that shone through broken windows bounced off the floor to illuminate the bare room. On the opposite end, there was only one remarkable thing; A sword, half-submerged in stone.
The sword had a bastard grip, but its length and width were more significant than even a greatsword. A more accurate description would be a heavy sword from fantasy. From the visible half, the blade itself was pure white. Given that it was reflective like steel, it appeared as though it was not made from a known material if it was even metal at all.
“That looks like it,” Martel said as they made their way toward it.
“Fooouuunnd It!” A new voice rang out from behind them.
In a panic, they all turned around just in time to see a blanket of white fire as it made its way toward them. Martel and Cali simultaneously produced something that resembled a black powdered smoke which halted the fire until it disappeared.
“Oh? Not bad.” The voice said from beyond them. They turned back around toward the sword.
“Why?” Morgan whispers out. Her face showed clear signs of panic as her breath intensified before she collapsed to her knees.
The shock disappeared from Martel’s face as it turned into clear anger. He wanted nothing more than to attack the one who appeared but didn’t dare for fear he would provoke the Red Dragon. “What are you doing here, Freed!?” He asked through creaking teeth.
“Well… Our spies reported your little bookworm was finding something interesting in Roxburghshire. So I figured I might as well find out what you were looking for and take it for myself.” Replied with a voice that dripped with irony. “I’ll be taking this sword and become strong enough to pay back all of Camalot for what they have done to me!” He replied as he moved his shirt to reveal the scabs and burns on his chest and neck. If he didn’t block his face, it would have been just as bad. He was a vain person who cared about his appearance as he often used it to get what he wanted. The fact that his face could have been made comparable to burnt toast infuriated him, much less the wounds he received.
With visions of grandeur of the strength he would achieve when he wielded the magic sword, he reached out and grabbed it. “What?” he asked as he strained his muscles and tried again. Every time he pulled and failed, more frustration appeared on his face. “In that case.” He started to release an immense amount of Ki.
“Stop that, you idiot!” Martel yelled in anger and panic as both he and Cali looked to the side.
“Coming,” Cali said.
“Stay inside and get to the door,” Martel shouted as he picked up Morgan and rushed toward the door.
Freed looked at them, confused. “What are you-”
*Rawr!* A red flame burst through the window near the sword before the entire portion of the wall collapsed as the dragon appeared. Its whole body was covered with red scales and had a long neck and tail with six limbs. Two of those limbs were above its front legs and were connected to wings, typical with western dragons.
Everyone’s ears rang, and faces went pale when it arched its neck and bellowed another roar. It turned to face Freed before it shot a jet of flame at him. Freed managed to divert some of it with his flames before he jumped through a broken window on the opposite side. Martel and the girls waited with bated breath as the dragon demolished the wall that Freed went through.
“Keep your Ki down and go,” Martel said as he exited through the door with Morgan in his arms.
They dashed outside and made some distance from the castle before they stopped behind an outcrop of rocks that cut off the line of sight.
“Morgan. Morgan!” Martel said while he lightly shook her to try and get her to snap out of it.
*Roar! Bang! Boom!*
Martel looked back at Morgan, who was still panicked, with a look of impatience. “We don’t have time for this. It seems I’m going to have to use shock therapy.” He said with a sad smile and sighed as he gently took her chin with his hand. Then, in a movement that shocked all of the girls, he kissed her, hard. Caelia’s eyes grew wide, Cali tilted her head in confusion, and Shiro covered her mouth in shock. After a couple of seconds, Morgan began to squirm against him. A couple of seconds later, he removed himself from her lips.
*Wack!* “W-w-w-what are you doing? You pervert!” Morgan said as she punched him in the face to which he neither tried to block or dodge.
“In my world, all the princesses are saved with a kiss,” He replied with a sad smile.
Morgan moved her fingers to her lips. “That was my f-first kiss... and you used your-”
*Roarrrr!* Everyone flinched as the dragon’s roar, notably with anger, echoed through the mountains.
“You girls need to leave, now,” Martel said with a severe tone and expression.
“What about you?” Caelia asked.
“It looks like that bastard did something crazy and jumped to get away, so it’s starting to make its way towards us. I’ll hold it off. You girls get back to the capital then go home.”
“Why are you talking like you aren’t coming with us?” Caelia asked in a panic.
“Just in case,” He replied with a small smile.
Shiro’s expression turned sad. “Please, come back.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Another roar echoes of the mountains.
Martel took Shiro and Caelia and gave them a long kiss on their foreheads. “Now promise me. Protect and look out for each other and get stronger. Cali, go with them. Make sure they stay safe, especially Morgan.”
“Should I not fight with you?” She asked him.
Martel shook his head. “No you aren’t strong enough to make a real difference, you said so yourself. Now go. Go!” He said as he turned to make his way up the hill. Tears formed in all of the girls’ eyes except Cali’s as they started to dash their way down the mountain. Caelia stopped when she felt something familiar. An immense amount of Ki was at her back. She turned around and saw the silhouette of a man who stood high amongst the rocks.
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“I can feel your resolve from here, Martel,” She whispered to the wind. “The same resolve as my father. You who go with no fear of death prepared to die. You fight with a conviction for a goal you deem higher than your own life.” Tears filled her eyes as she turned and continue to run. “Please, live!” She whispered as the roar of the Red Dragon approached.
On top of the mountains, Martel stood. At his back were those he cared for as they fled for safety. Retreat was never an option for him. He loved and them to the point where even he was confused by his own emotions. Why had he kissed Morgan when he had insinuated he would be with Caelia? It was in the calmness when he prepared for death that the answer came to him. He loved them all with a pure affection that exceeded friendship. They had permanently etched a place in his heart. To him, these emotions were conflicting, and he wondered how he would face them. However, he brushed those thoughts aside to focus on the task at hand. He knew what he had to do; To buy enough time for them and, if he was lucky, lose the beast that approached him from the skies.
As it approached, he released his Ki to draw its attention. “Come and get me,” He whispered to himself
The Beast; the Dragon, Fafnir, fell from the skies before it landed a short distance from him while he drew his sword. Martel felt the ground tremble in the dragon’s presence as the rocks crackled under it and were blown out as powder. It let out a roar as fire ripped from its mouth and stopped just short of Martel. Martel felt the heat from Fafnir’s Ki that was colored a light red instead of the typical blue.
A smile showed on the Martel’s face. At that moment, he felt no fear of death. He only felt a little excitement at the reality of what was before him, and fear of what would happen to those behind him should he not succeed.
The dragon leaped forward with its powerful limbs and wings. The distance between them shrunk in a heartbeat. It’s head suddenly descended as it snapped at him. A whiff of the Fafnir’s pungent breath assaulted Martel as he jumped to the side at the last moment at an incredible speed to dodge the beast’s maw. This action did not escape the dragon’s notice as it swept towards him with its neck. In response, Martel quickly changed directions toward the dragon. Because he stayed low to the ground, he managed to dodge the head and escape while he also landed a blow at the underside of its neck with his sword. The place he attacked was deliberate because there was a slight mark from a sword strike already present. It seemed Fafnir’s anger that had forced Freed to jump off the mountain to an uncertain Fate was due to this wound that he had inflicted.
Even though this weakened its defense, and the blade was infused and sharpened with Ki, it barely penetrated the dragon’s thick scales with a noise that indicated deflection. Only a thin sliver of blood came from the dragon while the sword dented.
“That’s not good,” Martel mumbled to himself with a hint of hopelessness as he continued underneath its belly.
He created a Ki blade with his free hand and struck in-between the Dragons hip and leg where it should’ve been the weakest. This turned out to be in vain as the scales showed little more than a scratch.
Martel continued to sprint beyond the dragon towards the castle and away from the girls who had fled.
“Come and get me, bastard!” He shouted in a tone that expressed he no longer believed he could beat it. He resigned himself to the fact that he had to hold out for as long as possible.
The ground split as Fafnir’s talons dug into the ground as it turned and leaped again, but this time off the side of the mountain. It used the speed from a short dive to get in front of Martel stopped from its wings wind pressure. Its lips snarled with a growl before its mouth opened rife with flame.
As the heatwave gave his skin a burning sensation, Martel created a triangle shield of Ki around him spread the fire. When he found the heat was bearable, he got closer and used the fire as cover and moved quickly toward the beast. Once close enough, he jumped to the side into the air and separated the Ki shield from himself to create a platform from which he jumped mid-air. With a twist, he focused his Ki into his foot to create a blade from his toes and struck at the dragon’s eye.
As if to taunt him, Fafnir didn’t move. Instead something clear moved over the dragon’s eye, so his foot never reached its mark. He twisted his body once again and kicked off the top of the dragons head to catapult himself onto the dragon’s back. Martel desperately gripped one of its back spines as his body lurched as the dragon bucked a couple of times before it leaped into the air with wings spread.
“No thank you,” Martel said as he jumped from the dragon and rolled onto the ground. The sky was its territory, and Martel could easily die if he fell a great height. As the dragon turned back, Martel rushed forward toward the small castle. However, the dragon overtook him in a short amount of time as it let loose its flames while it crossed overhead. Martel stopped and turned to release what appeared to be black dust before he created a triangular shield of Ki between the black dust and himself. The black dust took care of some of the flames while the Ki shield blocked the rest.
The dragon once again turned around in the air and landed opposite of him and the small castle. It lunged at Martel with its maw open and once again Martel dodged. This time, it was ready. Martel’s eyes opened wide as he realized that the dragon’s claws had closed in on him and he had no way to dodge. He put his sword in front of him and infused it and his entire body with Ki, but to no avail. The claw ripped through his sword and body. Blood came from the wound that was just deep enough. In the next instant, the dragon whipped its body around and struck him square in the chest with its tail. Air spilled out of his lungs, bones cracked, and a small amount of blood escaped from his lips. The impact catapulted him through the air and the remains of the door to the castle. He bounced limply along the ground twice before he slammed into the wall at the back.
He breathed heavily in pain as he righted himself up. He created a flame with his hand and used it to cauterize his wound, the wound he knew to be mortal.
“Sorry girls, I don’t think I’ll be making it back,” He said weakly.
His breath was ragged, his posture sloppy, his eyes heavy, and blood flowed from his wounds.
“Do you desire power?”
Martel looked around surprised by the female voice he heard.
“Do you desire power?” The voice asked again.
Even in his pain, Martel’s mind was in an unprecedented clearness. “Power without purpose is pointless and is easily corruptible. I don’t want power; I want the power to protect the bodies, hearts, and minds of those dear to me.”
“Take up the sword, you who have come after me.”
Martel looked at the sword as the ground rumbled beneath from the dragon’s footsteps. In pain, he slowly made his way toward the sword. As his hand took the sword, the dragon destroyed and burst through the doorway. One swift movement was all it took for Martel to draw the sword from the stone which rippled like water without a hole. The rest of the blade was revealed to show that its tip and part of the edges were pitch black.
After Martel took a breath and took a couple of seconds to prepare his newest trump card, he quickly moved directly toward the dragon. In response, the dragon’s neck coiled back until it lashed out toward him. The two were on an irrefutable collision course. Then, just before they crossed paths and he fell victim to the beast’s jaw, he disappeared only to reappear above the dragon instantly. His hands clenched and his muscles bulged, as he swung down the long thick blade and cut halfway through the top part of the dragon’s neck through the lower cut he made earlier. As he landed crouched, Martel did not even have a second to breathe before the dragon’s head smashed into him, which caused his wound to rupture again and sent him into the wall.
Martel was set up against the back wall, the sword still in his hand. The dragon yelped in pain as it writhed about in what one would assume to be its death throes.
[No way. That’s not enough to kill it?] He thought as vision grew dark.
Though the wound was clearly fatal, Martel somehow knew that the dragon would not die. Instead, it would revive. He did not know how long it would take. Minutes, hours, years. All he knew was that it would not; could not be killed.
[This… This is as far as I go.] Was the final thought in his mind before his eyes closed, and the heart in his chest stopped beating.
Martel awoke in a place that was pure white. Not only was it pure white, but the floor and the walls could not be discerned. It seemed as though he was on the floor and above it at the same time. As he rose, he noticed the figure of a beautiful woman with tied golden hair draped in wondrous white robes before him.
“How unfortunate, I seem to have died as I’m in the presence of an angel,” He said.
“I can see you continue to be quite the… Flirt.” The woman said with a sly smile.
“Forgive me, but you are not the Golden-haired young lady I hope to see.”
“She’s not here. Well, I think it would be romantic if she were, but unfortunately, she is not.”
“So then, where are we?”
“In the depths of your soul, a place very few have ever reached.”
“I thought that I had died.”
“Right now, you’re hovering on the borders of life and death.”
“I’m not in the mood for riddles.”
“I suppose not,” She replied with a small laugh.
“So, did you somehow seal your soul within the sword, Artoria Sigurd Pendragon Le Fay?”
“I’m impressed that you are capable of deducing that, Martel.”
“The only person that I can think you could be is her. So, why have you come?”
“You failed to kill the Red Dragon.”
“I noticed.”
“Do you know why?”
“... The Spirit King of Fire was corrupted and lost control of his abilities of creation. The result was a living creature of fire and destruction, a Dragon. Thus, it became both a living creature and a spirit. Spirits technically aren’t alive, so they cannot be killed.”
“An excellent deduction.”
“So how am I supposed to kill something that can’t be killed?” Martel asked with a sigh.
“Absorb it.”
Martel’s eyes went wide in shock. “Can that even be done?”
“Of course, you’ve done so already. However, to absorb the spirits is to take them onto yourself. There is no way to know what will happen if you absorb that which is both a spirit and a living being. You may succeed or fail; live or die. So, will you try it?”
“I thought that I was already dead.”
“That is up to you. You are teetering on the edge of life and death. You may yet regain consciousness, and absorbing Fafnir may save you. What do you desire? Do you wish to live or die?”
“I... I would like to see her again.”
“So, you desire death?”
Before his eyes, he saw them. A golden-haired girl with a pigtail. A white-haired girl with cat ears. A black-haired girl with an expressionless face. A crimson-haired young woman with tipped ears. Finally, a golden-haired beauty appeared before him with a smile which he returned.
“Live or die?” He asked himself softly as he disappeared.
“It seems he has made his decision,” Artoria said with a smile after he disappeared. She turned to the obscured figure who had just appeared. “I will help all I can. Will you help him again?” Artoria asked as they both disappeared.
...
… Live.
… *ba-dum*
… Live!
… *ba-dum... ba-dum*
Live!/[Live!]
*ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum*
Martel stood up in the presence of the wounded dragon as it writhed on the ground. He righted his posture as blood spilled from his wound. The air began to swirl around him from the dragon. His eyes opened to reveal that they glowed gold. He deeply inhaled before he bellowed a roar as the dragon’s body began to turn into little wisps of flame. Even the blood the dragon spilled on the ground became the flames surrounded and attached themselves to Martel until it appeared as though his entire body was on fire. His eyes became that of a Golden Dragon as their roars became indistinguishable. He was wracked with pain as his body cracked and morphed. It was a battle of wills; of luck; of Fate. One which he could not know if he could even survive. The result could be he lived, but, if the dragon lived, everything he held dear would eventually perish.