News about the sudden disappearance of Mt. Pace spread quickly like wildfire; among those who took wind of it was number one gossiper, Fusha Bach. Fusha heard from her fellow delegates of noble lineage that Gaian scholars were considering anomaly storms as the culprit.
An anomaly storm was a phenomenon wherein the anomaly became too strong that it would eat at reality itself, causing sudden disappearances of places, objects and people. However, to say that Mt. Pace dematerialized because of an anomaly storm was definitely overkill (since anomaly storms were known to affect small areas at a time); whatever caused that, probably was something else entirely, something far scarier. Indeed, had they known of the fight that occurred between Aisha and Arthur Pendragon, they would immediately resign themselves to fear; for the two persons' powers were abnormally too strong.
Thankfully though, no one was caught in the crossfire, owing to the fact that Mt. Pace was a very secluded region, due to the dangers lurking in its forest—in fact the nearest village was situated many kilometers south to it.
But enough of that, let us focus on the more important things—Fusha lost her priceless necklace! That cost her 200,000 Fluff (Cloud's currency). She bent down, crawled on the ground, upturned everything she could see yet she still could not find it. She needed that necklace for this afternoon's engagement party between Arthur and Aisha—it was a famous Branch custom, wherein before the marriage could happen, the two persons to be wed should first host three consecutive engagement parties. This afternoon would be the second one.
Minutes of searching had passed and Fusha's nerves were about to break in a burst of furious screams; however, the moment she opened her mouth to shout, a hand grabbed her on the shoulder.
"My, my Fusha," said Fueguard, surprised by the sight of Fusha's ransacked room, "would you please not destroy this hotel for something as flimsy as this?"
Fueguard handed her a golden necklace, bedecked with tiny, shining jewels. The greedy eyes of the old lady brightened up the moment she saw those sparkles. She promptly took it from Fueguard and quickly hid it in her jewelry box.
"Thank goodness," sighed Fusha. "Where did you find it?"
"Right there," Fueguard told her, pointing at the coatrack. "It was hanging on one of your coats."
"So that's where it was," celebrated Fusha. One moment after, she calmed down, and sent a hostile glare towards her husband; she was about to address a more important topic.
"So?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "You finally came back after stealing your daughter's Illusory Gem? You keep taking things from us, I guess it's because of your peasant blood. I have to be honest, it would have been better if you had suddenly vanished and never returned."
Ah! Once more, the apathetic tone of his wife's words cut deep wounds in his heart. He loved his family very much, working very hard in the shadows to protect them, in fact the reason why he'd been taking their Illusory Gems (without permission) was not for pranking his adventurer friends but in order so he could covertly check out if there were spies among them—yesterday however, was an entirely different scenario.
"I wouldn't call it stealing," he rationalized, taking a purple gem from his pocket and placing it on Fusha's table, "more like 'borrowing'."
Fueguard walked towards the door.
"Please tell Soria that I'm sorry," he somberly articulated, "anyway, I'm off, there's something important I'd have to do for today."
"Yes, just leave!" crowed Fusha, "and never come back."
Perhaps Fusha did not see it (or maybe she just didn't care) but a few tears dripped down from Fueguard's eyes.
Just like that, Fueguard left the uncomfortable comfort of his family. The business he was off to however, was no less a serious matter than the destruction of Mt. Pace—in fact it was even more serious; after all, saving a single human life was a greater feat than retrieving a landscape that had been wiped clean from the map.
***
When the sun had reached its zenith, various individuals (excluding the media this time) flocked at the entrance gates of the Camelot Palace. Prime Minister Barth Marksman also came among the guests this time; during the first party, he wasn't able to attend because he had to finish checking and signing some important paperwork, but now that his schedule was lightly packed, he could freely attend the gathering.
The huge gates of the palace opened up to accommodate the crowd of important figures coming from the two allied nations. Everyone hastily went inside, never wasting a moment to see the two famous couple.
"Prime Minister!" exclaimed the young and exuberant Arthur, the moment he caught Barth in his sights, "looks like you're finally able to attend this time around."
Barth beamed a diplomatic smile towards Arthur, extending a hand, which Arthur immediately returned with a handshake. The experience Prime Minister Barth had attained all his life did not only show in the streaks of white hair crowning his head, but also in his mannerisms towards Arthur: direct, polite, precise, and friendly; clear signs of statesmanship.
"Thank the traffic jam my boy!" loudly chuckled the tubby old man, puffing a smoke from his cigare. "Thanks to that, I was able to excuse myself from the inauguration ceremony of a certain groundbreaking game being held at the next city over."
"Could it be the one made by Stellar Company?"
"Exactly! Now then," he winked at Arthur, "where's our lucky winner?"
Arthur stood with a perplexed expression, "Whatever do you mean Prime Minister?" he asked in a tone of respect.
"Oh bosh, young man!" tooted the old coot; it was so strange how he could sound so informal and yet appear so formal—such incomparable finesse. "The lass my boy, the lass! Where is she?"
"Ah!" expressed Arthur; his puzzled face suddenly brightened up the moment he realized what Barth meant. "Apparently she doesn't feel good," answered he, "she said she'd be late for the party so please bear with her absence."
"What a sham—err, I mean shame," joked Barth. "Anyway, off to one of the best things in an engagement party besides the engaged."
"What could it be Prime Minister?"
"Ice cream!" fluted the amiable old man whom Arthur just couldn't help but like. Barth waved Arthur goodbye and took off towards the confectionery.
***
Somewhere inside one of the hundreds of rooms of the Camelot Palace, Aisha laid gloomily on her bed. Her eyes were red in tears and her heart palpitated in haste. She remembered the feeling of Arthur's embrace, of his smiles, of his whispers, of the times they spent together and the like. Memories flooded over her like a tsunami, washing away any signs of joy—because those memories, though they were happy, hurt the most. She still felt like a colossus mountain weighed on her chest, albeit she had already recovered from her wounds and fatigue (caused by her sudden outburst yesterday) thanks to her enormous mana.
A sudden gust of wind unexpectedly blew the windows open, waking her up from her stupor. She stood up to close the windows but was met with the sight of a young man clothed in black.
"Miss," hailed the shinobi, genuflecting before her. "I regret to inform you that I can no longer protect you in secret."
Aisha promptly recognized that it was Lancelot, "What are you talking about Lancelot?" she said in a concerned tone. "Where have you been all this time?"
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"I have been guarding you Miss; and even after Pendragon had attacked me I kept on guarding you."
Lancelot looked down.
"But now, once again, my master has died; and I saw it with my own two eyes. That is why I can no longer offer my services to you Miss; for soon, I shall avenge his death."
"Once again?" reiterated Aisha, somewhat perplexed. "Didn't your master die a long time ago?"
"He did," affirmed Lancelot, "Wisp, my master died a long time in the past; but Arthur lived on."
"Arthur?" asked Aisha in a raspy voice, indicative that her throat was sore because of continuous sobbing, "You mean Pendragon?"
"No," gloomily responded Lancelot, "I mean Crane, Arthur Crane. Years ago, my master died as Wisp; now, however, he has died as Arthur and can no longer come back."
Wait, Arthur Crane was Lancelot's master? The same Arthur that Aisha loved and witnessed die? The same Arthur that had no inkling of strength whatsoever? That Arthur?
Immediately, everything clicked in Aisha's mind: Lancelot didn't lie when he said 'Arthur' sent him, he actually just meant a different 'Arthur', that was why Pendragon seemed to contradict himself when he attacked Lancelot. Also, about Lancelot's master's death, all this time, he was merely trying to be figurative: when he said his master died, he actually meant his master's alter-ego, Wisp.
However, the discovery was so sudden for Aisha that her instinctive reaction was to doubt Lancelot.
"W-what are you talking about?" stammered Aisha; she was shocked off of her tongue that she did not know what to say.
"I mean what I mean, Arthur Crane is indeed my master."
Aisha's eyes widened in shock. So Arthur had a life she didn't know about, and he was actually protecting her behind her back? The knowledge of that increased the pain in her heart even more—she wanted to know more, to know the parts of Arthur she didn't know; however, she could no longer do that because—
He's already dead.
'That fool,' she thought as tears began to trickle down her face, 'he should have just told me in the very beginning.'
"I shall go now Miss," said Lancelot, standing up. "Today I will die, but at least I will have tried to avenge my master."
The next second Lancelot disappeared in a flash of light.
"Wait!" screamed Aisha, leaning out the window, "I know Arthur; he would never want you to waste your life—"
Too late—the shinobi had already left; what responded to Aisha, were the mere whispers of the afternoon breeze.
***
The courtyard was in an entirely different condition—it was vibrant, teeming with elegant music, delicious food, and important figures from all over Branch and Cloud. Prime Minister Barth continued to rummage for his precious ice cream that seemed to have not yet been made available. Fusha and her daughter each joined their respective cliques, talking about the usual things people of their caliber talked about—no, they did not talk about how to save people from poverty; they talked about jewels, riches, money, and status.
Arthur also went to his own group, composed of soldiers, generals and scientists. The merry atmosphere exhibited the lightheartedness of friendship until—
Flashes of light and explosions engulfed the whole vicinity, causing everyone to run amok like fleeing ants. In the chaos, a shadow quickly flitted towards Arthur.
With a sword in hand Lancelot struck at Arthur's neck, only—
His sword did not cut through; Arthur's flesh had already hardened through his technique.
Lancelot jumped back.
"Oh?" Arthur began, turning towards his attacker, "what a clever use of diversionary tactics. Certainly, the shinobi of the east are strangely adept. I would very much like to know more about you and your people."
Lancelot did not answer.
Lancelot was indeed a master of the Art of the Sword yet there was another technique he was proficient at a few levels higher than the sword—The Art of the Shinobi. He hated using that technique, since it reminded him of his gruesome childhood, from which Arthur Crane saved him; however, for the sake of vengeance, he would use it.
He put his left hand before him, while erecting his middle and index finger upright.
"Ninja Art: Dust Shadows."
Immediately, a circuit, tattooed on his palm, activated and sent out numerous aether particles to his surroundings. The particles spread out and stuck to every dust and dirt inside the courtyard. The next instant they bunched up into multiple human figures until they morphed to mimic Lancelot's look. Lancelot hid himself in a sea of dust clones as he went to attack Arthur.
The crowd had already successfully evacuated with the exception of the soldiers. Five soldiers pointed their pistols at Lancelot's clones and fired at them, only to be surprised that none of their aether bullets could succeed in apprehending them. The moment a clone was defaced, it would repair itself on cue.
Lancelot sent a few of his clones to deal with the veterans and the majority to shield himself from Arthur's view. The clones attacked Arthur one after the other, yet Arthur fended them off with his hardened body, effectively using kicks, punches and evasive maneuvers.
Arthur then activated a circuit on his ring producing a huge invisible aether barrier that quickly popped the moment it reached the right size, dismantling the structure of the dust clones; thus, completely destroying them. Arthur told the soldiers to standby, assuring them that he would be fine.
After seeing how easily Arthur took out his clones, Lancelot pulled out a kunai—a specialized shinobi dagger—and threw it towards him. Arthur dodged the attack with ease, however—
The dagger was marked by Lancelot with a teleportation circuit. A teleportation circuit worked just like teleportation magic which demolecularized a subject, sending it to a location before remolecularizing it. Unlike teleportation magic, however, that could send a person anywhere in the world provided the caster had seen the location and had enough mana to perform the magic, teleportation circuits needed to mark the location of its destination and the activation usually took hours when done consciously. However, when subconsciously activated as a form of technique, the move was lightning fast.
"Ninja Art:" pronounced Lancelot, making the same hand-seal, "Substitution."
He disappeared and took the place of the dagger that had just flown past Arthur. In an instant, he sent a sword barreling towards Arthur.
*Whoosh*
The sword broke in half as a bone from Arthur's back extended through his skin and parried the attack. Lancelot, by sheer instinct, dodged the elongated bone before it sliced him too. He sent another strike and Arthur turned to defend using his hardened forearm.
They continued to exchange strikes, speedily attacking non-stop. Lancelot would strike Arthur only to be parried by Arthur's dangling and moving bones. Arthur would send a sharp bone to pierce through Lancelot; however, Lancelot would immediately dissipate into smoke before the attack hit, only to appear at another location. The clock ticked by and there was yet to be a winner, until—
"Ninja Art: Substitution."
Expectantly, Lancelot vanished and took the place of the chair he had already marked just right at Arthur's blind-spot.
"Ninja Art and Sword Art: Vanishing Attack"
Aether particles once again came out of Lancelot's tattoo which caused light to suddenly bend around his body, thereby rendering him semi-invisible. He dashed towards Arthur.
"Sword Art: Drilling Sword!"
Aether immediately spiraled around Lancelot's sword as he pushed forward to pierce through Arthur, but—
One of Arthur's extended bones, pierced through his abdomen first. Lancelot coughed out blood as he tried to pull himself off of the spiky bone. However, out of a sudden, Arthur flung him flying to the wall.
Lancelot slammed to the wall with a thud and slid down to the ground, leaving a bloody streak on the wall's surface, as though it were done with a paintbrush.
Arthur sauntered to the bloody Lancelot.
The soldiers who saw the scene gasped in shock. They were truly amazed at Arthur's strength; it looked like he could easily surpass his father.
"You are strong," commended Arthur, looking down at the fallen Lancelot, "yet you have made a big mistake trying to assassinate me."
Lancelot laughed and smiled. "I knew in the beginning," he muttered, coughing out blood as he held his gaping wound; "that I stood no chance. However, I know master will be happy, now that I've been able to fight for him."
However, before Lancelot could breathe his last, a sudden glow engulfed his injured body, and his wounds slowly healed. Lancelot's eyes widened in shock.
"Miss!" he called out, "please do not deny me this honor of dying for my master."
"I decline!" screamed Aisha, pointing her wand as she hastily walked towards the fallen Lancelot; she then moved to stand between him and Arthur.
"Lancelot," she said, "it’s okay now, don't worry. I know for sure Arthur wouldn't want you to die."
The glow of Aisha's healing spell was strangely comforting, inducing drowsiness in Lancelot. Slowly, he began to close his eyes, but before he could do so, he caught a glimpse of Aisha.
'Ah,' he thought, 'she looks just like—' and he fell asleep.
Aisha looked at Arthur fiercely.
"Spare him!" she pleaded, "and I will not hesitate to marry you."
***
Somewhere at the outskirts, Fueguard once again brought a bag of food inside the dilapidated walls of a long-abandoned barn.
"Oh, so you're already awake?" he cooed at the bandaged man.
"How am I alive?" questioned the man, looking at his shaking hands. "I truly felt like I had already died yesterday and the sword—"
He held his neck.
"Really felt like it sliced through my neck."
Fueguard placed the bag of food (bread) atop a stack of hay.
"Illusions," said he; "I am a master of illusions and what you felt and saw, as well as what the others felt and saw, was all an illusion. Although, I couldn't fully prevent you from getting injured but rest at ease, your wounds are shallow."
"Can an illusion really even do that?"
"Normally it can't," he replied, "however, thanks to my daughter's Illusory Gem I was able to program a realistic illusionary event. However, the spell was in fact too strong that it dried me out of my mana; and since it was no ordinary magic, it would take me months to regain my full power."
"I see... but why did you save me?"
"My disciple, Aisha, asked me to do so, do you think a man can decline such a desperate request?"
Fueguard poured tea on a cup and handed it to the man. The bandaged man took it and slowly drank his fill.
"When my disciple had requested this task of me, I immediately began my information gathering and the like, looking for a way to clear your name; but instead, I discovered something interesting about you—Wisp of the Cast Shadow, or should I say, former Wisp of the dark organization?"
"That—"