Asabasha 23, 350 AOR
Despite his tendency to talk down on his opponents, a habit he admittedly picked up from Dirah and Gordon, Cal truly had no clue what he was getting into. His family and home were in danger, but he was right in the fact that the result would be the same regardless. He was going to die, as was everyone else.
He might as well go out chirping and swinging.
If there was any upside for Cal, it was the fact that many of the bandits possessed the typical weary armor and damaged weapons; additionally, they seemed confident that they’d kill him, resulting in just a few of them closing in on him at a time. Cal quickly realized they did it because they also found his final stand entertaining.
The thought peeved him just a bit.
Dropping the first bandit with a stab to their gut, Cal sidestepped the second bandit who looked nearly starved as he stumbled with his sword. A sense of pity nearly washed over Cal as he drove his dagger into the back of their head. A third and fourth bandit rushed toward him. Three possessed a sword while Four held an axe. Cal backed off of Three’s first slash before ducking beneath the follow-up strike. He hadn’t even lifted his dagger when Four crashed past Three, sending them to the ground. Four lifted his axe overhead and swung down. When he missed by a comical margin, Four began swinging his blade in a constant spinning motion. He was painfully slow, to the point that Cal simply walked backward from it. It was fast for Three, however, as Four’s axe met the side of the former’s head, causing it to split open.
Cal’s mouth twisted into a scowl, one that held just an ounce of compassion for the unfortunate excuses of fighters before him. When Four ran their stamina dry, heaving for breath with their hands on their knees, Cal simply swiped his blade across their neck.
He stood loosely then, blinking as he looked at the two hundred enemies before him.
Those… had to have been the strays who tagged along… right?
“I… expected a bit more,” Cal honestly expressed. “Are all of you like this?”
Shouts sounded out from the crowd as ten bandits shot out, rushing to Cal with murder in their eyes. Cal nodded and jumped on the toes of his feet, muttering, “That’s better.”
Meeting the closest bandit, Cal sheathed his daggers and dodged the swinging sword attack with a spin against their side. Cal was now met with the bandit’s back, giving him the chance to kick his foot into their calf. They dropped to their knees, and as their arm spread wide to keep their balance, Cal grabbed their limp hand and turned the bandit’s sword on their own neck before slicing it across their jugular. When the bandit dropped, Cal snagged the sword and blocked the next attack that a man threw at him in the form of a longsword.
The blade of Cal’s sword shattered, leaving him with just the hilt. He frowned and threw the hilt at the male bandit before turning to another—a woman—with her sword raised. Cal jabbed the woman’s neck with his fist, causing her to drop her sword. Cal grabbed it from mid-air, spun, and stabbed the man with the longsword. Before he could even hit the ground, Cal spun again and pierced the woman’s chest while she was busy trying to ease the pain in her throat.
With his free hand, Cal grabbed the wrist of another bandit and kicked at a second. The second flew to the ground, giving Cal the chance he needed to drive his sword through their abdomen. Cal yanked the blade out, tossed the first bandit aside, and blocked multiple attacks that two new enemies swung at him. When a heavy slash caused him to lose the grip on his sword, Cal unsheathed his daggers, allowing him to take the offensive by slashing quicker and with more precision. The two bandits dropped in seconds, staining the gravel below with blood.
Right after, Cal flipped his left dagger, caught it at the tip, and hurled it at the previously kicked bandit who finally rose to a sitting position. Three more closed in. A mace, a glaive, and a bow user. Short, medium, and long-range—a bad combination.
The first arrow flew right past Cal’s head, forcing him to think fast. But as he was quickly pinned between the mace and glaive user, he found his situation turning bleak very quickly. Holding the spear-like weapon that also bore a one-sided blade, the glaive user swung wide and high at Cal. He ducked low to dodge, but the mace-user flew in from the other side, weapons winging like a bat. Eyes wide, Cal raised his blade, just for it to get knocked out of his grasp. The swing continued, albeit weaker, and slammed into his shoulder.
The popping sound was hard to ignore, but Cal did so as he held the mace to his arm and used the bandit’s grip on it to kick their legs out from under them. When they fell to the ground, Cal intentionally followed so as to avoid the downward flying glaive. Any chance to fight against the current two enemies faded as an arrow struck Cal in the upper shoulder. Much to his relief—though he couldn’t register it—the arrow was not a perforating wound.
Still, Cal cried out as he rolled over the mace-wielder, again dodging the glaive-wielder as it stabbed at him multiple times. The action also caused the arrow to snap, leaving just a few inches of the staff jutting out of him. With the overhead bandit, Cal brought the mace user above him, resulting in them being stabbed multiple times as the glaive user did not stop in his efforts to kill Cal.
The second his breaths grew exhausted and the glaive remained lodged in the dead man above him, Cal rolled the body off of him, removing the glaive from the bandit’s grasp. It gave Cal the second he needed to grab the smaller bandit by the neck and slam his fist into their face. Cal’s mouth contorted into a snarl as he slammed repeated strikes into the bandit’s teeth. Their face was quick to grow bloodied and bruised, though Cal didn’t care until an arrow whizzed right past his head.
Locking on to the last bandit, Cal charged toward the last bandit, using the other bandit’s lighter frame to act as a shield. When Cal rammed into the bow user, he tossed the human shield aside, straddled the third bandit, and slammed both his fists into the bandit one, two, three, four, five, and a dozen more times until his breaths were haggard and his face was splattered with blood.
Peeling himself off the mumbling bandit, their face distorted with blood and savage injuries, Cal stood up, his body loose as he scanned the crowd around him. Much to his annoyance, many merely looked pleased—like Cal was some sort of caged animal. Fury flooded his gaze, but it faded the moment he looked toward Jay, who stood next to a wide-eyed Lisa.
“As many have said, you’re a monster, Cal Gray,” Jay said as he pulled his sword from its sheath. He pointed the blade at Lisa as her hands were being held by the larger bandit behind her.
“Get that away from her,” Cal said breathlessly. “I’m here. Point it at me.”
“I will,” Jay said, using the end of the blade to lift Lisa’s chin. “But if you can’t keep fighting, I’m going to kill your dear mother. You wanted to put me down, so I’ll do you one better and punish you. If you can’t accept it… well, you’ll get to watch your mother die with your final breaths.” Jay’s eyes widened like he had recalled something important. “You had sisters too, yes? Perhaps I’ll throw them to the boys, let them have their fill.”
“Fucker!” Cal shouted as he stepped forward and grabbed his closest dagger.
“You bastard!” Lisa shouted as her eyes glowed with unadulterated wrath. “Touch them and I’ll extract every ounce of blood you possess in that vile suit of skin you wear!”
“Feisty,” Jay mumbled as he used his free hand to grab her by her cheeks. “I’ll tame you.” He tossed her to the bandits. “She’s mine. Take her away.”
“Not quite.”
Eyes shooting open, Cal looked over his shoulder as Airetore stood up with his hands in his pockets. “That’s not how this works.”
Jay looked at Airetore, utterly confused. “And who might you be?”
Airetore frowned, seemingly offended, before he took a few steps into the plaza. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. What does matter, however, is that you’re threatening this poor boy despite the fact that he just walked a dozen of your men into Lady Death’s arms. You’re both scum and cowardly. How shameful.”
Airetore’s finger snapped. Not a moment later, Lisa, Dirah, and all the other captives flew upwards before they soared toward the professor and Cal. Once they were behind the pair, they came to a sudden halt. Airetore then dropped them a couple of feet off the ground, and just like that, their number of allies shot up by six.
The chances of their victory spiked just a bit; however, Airetore slapped Cal’s back, putting him back into the plaza with a grin. “That’s better. Now you can fight freely, yeah?”
Confusion crossed Cal’s features as he looked over his shoulder. “What the hell are you doing? We can fight back!”
Airetore waved Call off like he were a bug. “No. No. You said that you didn’t need my help. You said that you’ll do everything to protect your family. So… let’s see it.”
Dirah stepped forward as did Lisa and the rest of the militia. “You think we’ll allow that?” the war veteran spoke with a threatening bite backing his words.
“Nope,” Airetore admitted before lifting his hand, a dark green light emanating from it. “Vice.”
Roots shot out from the ground, snagging Dirah’s legs, followed by his arms. The same occurred for everyone else, roots grabbing onto them and keeping them back. They all pulled at their restraints, though none as strongly as Lisa’s, her eyes lethal.
“What are you doing? Are you an enemy?” she shouted, though the roots only tightened. “Do not touch my son!”
“Silence,” Airetore spoke with blunt authority as the lightning-blue orbs of his eyes dulled before landing on Cal. By means outside of mere words, she obeyed.
Magic, Cal guessed as he glared at Airetore. “What are you playing at?”
Airetore stepped up to Cal, hands in his pockets, and loomed over the latter with what almost looked like disdain in his eyes. The sudden change in the professor’s disposition caused a sensation to tear through Cal’s spine that felt so similar but so different to the inquisitive eyes that watched him every waking second.
“Prove your worth and show me your resolve, Cal Gray.”
That was all the professor said before he backed up and looked at the plaza ahead, his attention set on nothing in particular. Even when Cal tried questioning Airetore, his actions, and then his words, he never looked back at Cal.
“Are you finished?” Jay’s voice called out, dragging Cal from his confusion. “You’ve taken my bargaining chips and took the fun out of my people’s night. I hope you don’t mind that I hurry this up.”
With that, Jay stepped forward, his silver blade reflecting the fires around the town as misty rain showered all those within the plaza watching in silence as Cal turned and approached his blades. Grabbing them, Jay met Cal towards the middle. They stood just twenty feet apart.
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“Having watched you murder my soldiers, I can’t help but think that you don’t deserve your position,” said Jay. “You were born and raised miles upon miles away from the Civil War, yet you’re here, fighting a new one in the form of us. As Elda and the other kingdoms rebuild, thriving because of the fruits their wars bear, we’re here, fighting just to survive. To be so young, to have killed so many people… I could shed a tear for you, Cal Gray. Truly. Had fate been kind and allowed us to live our lives free of hardship, strife, and injustice, wouldn’t this have all been but a possibility? We could be at peace, without war, without death, and without the chance of falling to the levels that society forced us to.”
Cal scowled, the grip on his daggers tightening. “Still with the self-pitying? You’re ability to continuously prove how deplorable you are is truly commendable.”
Head lowered, Jay chuckled, a gravelly sound with just a tinge of humor in it. “Yes… I do seem to have taken a liking to you. That’s why killing you will be both upsetting and exhilarating.”
The dull eyes of the raid’s leader shot up before they appeared in front of Cal within a couple of heartbeats, his sword far behind him before he swung it with a force that had Cal praying to the gods. However, Cal still brought his blades forward to block the sideways slash, which wasn’t much as Jay’s sword merely ground against Cal’s before the swing finished at a diagonal angle, cutting up and grazing Cal’s brow.
Blood dribbled down his forehead, nearly falling into his eye and causing him to miss the rapid, overpowering strikes Jay followed with. He could only block and parry, entirely on his heels without a single chance to fight back. Every time he even thought about trying to push back, he found not a single opening that would allow it. After he had already parried five slashes that Jay threw within just a few seconds, Cal found himself now fighting for both air and energy. Battling the others had tired him enough, and with every second he spent running from Jay, the more desperate he was becoming as exhaustion spread through every fiber of his being.
Grabbing at whatever hope he had, Cal found his first opening and attacked it, reversing the grip on both blades and plunging them toward the slight gap in Jay’s defense along his right ribs. The daggers soared as Cal put all his strength into the blades. His eyes widened, however, as Jay’s sword swung from virtually nowhere and slammed into his blades. With his grip and the angle of the strike, Cal’s hold shattered, leaving him without his weapons and entirely open to the sword that drove through his stomach.
Somewhere, outside the fogginess enveloping his mind, Cal could hear the cries of his mother and Bea while Dirah ordered Airetore to release them.
He fell to his knees, grasping the blade as if it were the only thing keeping him from being torn from the world of the living. Jay fell with Cal as the latter crumbled in on himself. The bandit leader grabbed Cal by his ponytail and pulled Cal’s head back so that their eyes could meet. Jay’s gaze was frigidly triumphant as a smirk cracked through his countenance.
“Hardly exhilarating,” he spoke, humor laced in his words. “I figured Markstead’s Shadow would put on a performance worth a hundred gold, but… I guess some plays are just that, puffery.”
Cal’s ragged breaths were shallow. With his vision growing darker, he coughed up the blood in his mouth.
Jay hardly batted an eye. “I’ve followed your movements for the last couple of years, watching as you assisted in the extermination of hundreds of bandits. You were exceptional, Cal Gray—no, you are exceptional. You’re not quite dead, so I won’t treat you as a legend yet.”
The man’s voice grew more and more distant. Cal’s head rolled back. He looked at his mother, Bea, Dirah, and lastly Airetore. He hated that he couldn’t see Eri and Lucie before he died, maybe even apologize to them, but the look in Airetore’s eyes, unchanged from when he had thrown him back into the plaza, bore into Cal like he was trying to steal his soul through their eyes alone.
Show your resolve.
The professor’s words echoed in Cal’s mind. Old, never-forgotten words followed.
Protect them—protect our girls. Only you… can do that, son… Only you can bear the burden of it all.
Cal released a pained whimper as he clenched his eyes shut and grabbed the blade just a little bit tighter. All the while, Jay didn’t relent.
“I always thought you’d be able to fight toe to toe against me—against the strength of an aged ex-captain like myself—but I was sorely disappointed, Cal Gray. Perhaps we should have fought on equal grounds.” Jay hummed in contemplation. “I suppose my desire to toy with my brother’s killer ended up biting me in the long run. How unfortunate.”
As his breaths grew more and more shallow, Cal recalled the direction he was given earlier. You’re overcompensating—too much mana. Lessen the output.
Overcompensating? Output?
The words sounded foreign in Cal’s foggy mind.
He’d never trained properly in the Magic Arts. He only knew how to gather a ton of his mana, imagine what he wanted it to do, and then release it. Creating a small flame out of his finger was simple enough, but to go any further was out of the question. Overcompensation and output were things he never considered. Were they things needing consideration, to begin with?
Cal’s throbbing head hurt worse with each second he thought about it; however, he preferred the throbbing over Jay’s incessant monologue. So with that, Cal dug into his mind and soul, seeking the electric blue orbs that littered his internal.
When Cal usually gathered mana for a spell, he would imagine a pail bucket in his hands, scooping up as much mana for the greatest outcome; however, recalling how he hardly grabs a few orbs for Torch, Cal applied the same concept, grasping at the orbs with just a scoop of his hand.
Not as much. Not as little. But just right.
And he felt it, the lack of a caustic burning that flared through his mana chords.
Grabbing that sensation, Cal applied every ounce of the Lightning mana into his hands before tightening his hold on the blade. With a blast of lightning, the sword shattered in half.
Jay’s eyes widened, though he wouldn’t get a chance to react as Cal used his other hand to punch Jay square in the chest, causing him to fly across the plaza and through the front door of the inn. In nearly the same second, Cal had flashed backward, resulting in him crashing to the gravel in front of his family.
“Cal!” Lisa cried out. “Sweetie, are you okay? Please answer me, sweetie!”
Rather than answering, Cal clambered to his hands and knees before sitting back on his heels. One hand went to the blade while the other hovered nearby. Cal took a heavy breath, and after mentally counting to three, he pulled the blade out and covered the wound with his free hand. Lightning mana entered his palm again as he fried the wound shut on the front, followed by the back.
He’d lost plenty of blood and his exhaustion was palpable, but he didn’t care.
Slow to rise, Cal kept hold of the shattered blade and approached Airetore. The cool metal of the sword pressed against the apathetic professor’s neck. The two men looked at one another as Cal’s head cocked to the side, his fury capable of drawing out the fatigue in his murderous eyes.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” Cal said.
“Because you can’t.”
“Professors like theories, right? Should we test that one?”
“You persevered. Do you wish to throw that away and die by my hand instead?”
“Release them,” Cal demanded instead.
“Only when you win.”
Huffing shakily through his nose, Cal pressed the blade closer, nearly enough to draw blood. But he relented, pulling back and discarding the blade. He turned around, though he spoke with a firmness that could not be ignored.
“If I somehow make it out of this, I don’t wish to see you ever again,” Cal said, not caring to hear Airetore’s response by turning back to the plaza.
Stumbling forward as Jay clambered out of the devastated doorway, Cal went for his daggers, looked at them, and then pulled away. He kicked them to the side as Jay entered the plaza laughing.
“That was unexpected, but not entirely distasteful… In the face of danger, adrenaline pumping, humans are no better than beasts. Bloodied and frightened, what are we when our backs are against the wall?” Jay said as he grabbed a sword from his ally and pointed it at Cal. “Some of us turn into murderers.” He then waved the sword around the plaza at the raiders. “Others, criminals who steal the gold, lives, and worth of those around them. But at the end of the day, we’re all monsters. That’s all this is—the raids, the bloodshed, the devastation. It’s a realization that at our cores, we’re all monsters. We demand justice, peace, power—but it’s those at the top of the food chain, those willing to do the worst and deprive themselves of what it means to be human, who harness such.”
Cal crouched into position, raising his fists. “Enough… Drop the sword and let our fists do the talking.”
Jay stilled, seemingly confused, though he obliged, after looking at the sword and throwing it to the ground. He raised his fists with an elated grin. “Whether you’re a man or a monster, your gallantry is worthy of respect, Cal Gray.”
Grasping the handful of Lightning mana again, Cal pumped it to his legs, hastening the limbs at a speed well over Jay’s. The former soldier possessed physical strength much greater than Cal, but with the bump in his speed from the armor of lightning coating his legs, he had an advantage.
It showed as Jay rushed Cal and threw a fist, barely grazing Cal’s cheek as the latter dodged by sidestepping the blow. When Jay followed with another series of punches, Cal dodged all but the last. It landed with a devastating impact, but Cal bit the pain down and hit Jay twice in the right rib before getting his arm caught between Jay’s side and right arm. Stuck, Cal couldn’t stop Jay from pummeling his face three times.
Only his legs could be amped, leaving the rest of his body lethargic. However, Cal used that to his advantage as he shifted the allocated mana to his free left hand. Jay couldn’t react to the sucker punch that snapped his head over, nor could he fight back as Cal pumped the mana in his left arm to his right arm and punched the other side of Jay’s face, snapping it back to the other side. Cal continued to alternate, landing hit after hit on Jay as mutters surrounded the plaza.
When the bandit’s leader finally caught a break, catching Cal’s arms and holding him still, Jay jumped upwards and kicked at Cal’s chest. It sent the brunette rolling, and as Jay quickly closed the distance on him again, fist raised, Cal moved the mana back to his legs and righted himself before kicking his leg up to parry Jay’s punch. Knocked off his direction, Jay was unable to do a thing as Cal spun on his previous attack and sent the heel of his second foot into the side of Jay’s face.
He soared into a crowd of bandits, knocking dozens over; however, he was quick to stumble out and rush toward Cal with murder in his eyes. Cal met him in kind, rushing at the man as they both raised their fists and threw them. Knuckle met knuckle before the two men began to throw punch after punch, their fists meeting together into a bloody spectacle as speed met strength.
“Get him, son!” Dirah’s voice bellowed. “He doesn’t know who you are!”
“Kick his ass, Cal!” Bea shouted right after.
The two fighter’s hands clashed, a grappling match between both men as they attempted to push the other back. But as Cal’s body began to crumble under exhaustion, injuries, and the use of mana, he could feel himself fading with each second. Jay seemed to notice, smirking as he pushed Cal back. His foot slipped, but he barely caught himself.
“Do you think you’re anything but a monster?” he spoke. “For as long as you live, the sins you committed will forever follow you. You’ll be nothing but your mistakes. Know that now.”
Cal’s feet slipped again, this time dropping him to his knees as Jay crushed his hands further. There was a distant groaning within his arms. They were going to break. Bearing his teeth, Cal tried to push back, but every time he did, his heart and lungs slowed further and further. His eyes blinked, nearly closing. He was losing hope, and his will to keep fighting… it was falling…
“Don’t listen to him!” cried Lisa. “We never blamed you, Cal! For Damian, for the factions! We never did! We love you, Cal!” Her shouts registered somewhere in the back of his mind, distant and depleted. “You are my son, and by Lucius, if you lose to that bastard and don’t help me kill this damn professor, then I’ll never forgive you!” Lisa Gray roared at the top of her lungs.
Cal’s eyes snapped open, and before he could even think about the repercussions that his next actions could have, Cal pumped the Lightning mana into his body and wrapped it around his heart, giving it one quick blast and essentially hastening his heartbeat for just a few more seconds.
The quick boost in his vitality allowed Cal the few seconds he needed to fight back, pushing against Jay’s grasp as he shouted to the sky, finding even more strength in his yells.
Jay’s brown pools widened at Cal’s actions, but his effort to fight back was quickly thwarted as Cal rose to his feet, allocated the mana back to his arms again, and used Jay’s confusion and his quickened speed to yank Jay’s arms down, twist them away from their owner, and then push his forearms in the opposite direction. Jay’s radius snapped out of the skin, causing the man to scream in agony.
Cal released his arms and slowly backed up to his discarded dagger. All the while, Jay fell to his knees, attempting to alleviate his suffering, but failing to do so as he was without the use of both arms. Stumbling back toward him, Cal crouched down onto a knee and looked Jay in the eye. The leader looked up, tears in his eyes as fear replaced the boredom and arrogance they once proudly flared.
“I told you that I know what I am, and my answer hasn’t changed. I also know that my past is my past. There’s no changing it, and there’s no saving it. There’s no saving me,” Cal admitted as he lifted his dagger to Jay’s heart. “You say we’re monsters, selfish and prideful when it comes to our ideals? Then so be it. I’ll embrace your words and continue to live for my father’s promise, even if I become something inhuman.”
“It’s a path… of pain, Cal Gray, but… you’ve proven your capability,” Jay painfully bemoaned. “So please… allow my death… to be a remembrance of the day… you became eternal.”
Cal looked into Jay’s eyes for just a moment before driving his dagger into the bandit leader’s heart. Jay crumbled to the ground, as did Cal; however, before Cal could hit the ground, he was caught. When he willed himself to open his eyes and look up, it was to see Airetore next to him, holding Cal steady and looking at him with his normally confident expression.
“You did well. Your resolve is strong,” he said before looking up. “Rest now. I’ll deal with the remains.”