13.5th FIGHT: QUO VADIS? PERSONA NON GRATA (2).

-XOXOXOX-

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-XOXOXOX-

'What is ki, anyway?'

Standing back-to-back with his Master Shintarou as he fought the group of bloodthirsty savages… Ahem, clan members, Myoujou silently pondered on this question as he defended himself from the wave of Kuremisago fighters.

Ki was the circulating life force whose existence and properties were the basis of much of Asian philosophy and medicine.

It was the willpower hidden deep within oneself in which that can be used to many different results, whether mental or physical.

And as a latent phenomenon nestled deep within the 'core' of mankind, Ki was something that most Martial Artists were able to utilize in some manner of fashion within battle and confrontation, allowing users to drastically increase their attack and defense power to inhuman levels with proper training and control.

'Though unfortunately, it's impossible to use Ki to do 'K*mehameha Waves' or 'Sp*rit Bombs' to get rid of your enemies...' Myoujou sighed.

'Alright, Myoujou! Time for a little self-study session.' Dodging a blow aimed at his head, Myoujou swiftly swept his opponent off their feet with his right leg, before delivering a fierce stomp to his attacker's temple.

'From what Shintarou told me a good while ago... There are two types of Ki that exist in this world… 'Sei' Ki, and 'Dou' Ki.' Still deep within his thoughts, Myoujou quickly rolled to the side as he narrowly dodged a sudden spear thrust that tore apart the very wind in the area he previously stood at.

But before that, what does the aforementioned categories of Ki even mean? And what about the martial artists that use them?

'Well, fighters that use 'Dou-Type-Ki' tend to be much more aggressive when they fight, being the type that are always on the offensive, and though they aren't always 'brute-forcing' it, they almost never miss out on an opportunity to go wild when fighting.'

'These types of Martial Artists seem to rely heavily on their instincts and brute strength when fighting, focusing on making their Ki "explode" after channeling it through their opponent to deal major damage.'

'Kinda like this guy.' The spear-wielding clansman closed in on him immediately, letting out a near-unending volley of spear thrusts one after the other.

-Power.

-Speed.

-Skill.

-And finally, Intent.

These spear thrusts were performed with an intensity that contained all of the above and even more, filled to the brim with the sole intent of killing Myoujou behind each thrust, and with each attack that Myoujou evaded, portions of his clothes were being nicked and torn.

"Really? Tearing my clothes? What are you, a bloody pervert?" Myoujou clicked his tongue.

'As expected, it's always a new experience fighting guys like this…' Tilting his head slightly, Myoujou escaped the trajectory line of the spear, stepping into his opponent's guard before starting his counterattack.

'Let me deal with these guys first... Since there's no need to stretch this out any further...'

Myouoju's moves were swift, fast, deceptive, and fined tuned. The very form he performed was dedicated to such maneuvers and attacks that allowed him to fight whilst redirecting the moves of whichever opponents the user may face in order to get pest-like fighters he might face.

It was the principle he held of 'Using your enemies' force and strength to knock them off balance, before dealing with them promptly', that was something he fondly preferred when in a fight.

-[WATER MIRROR; OVERFLOW]-

Shifting slightly to the side, Myoujou deflected the spear from the shaft right down to the base with his forearm while controlling his center of gravity and pulling the attacker past him.

"Hu- Huuh-!?"

Effectively using his attacker's own weight against himself and intentionally causing the attacker to rush past him and crash into the mountain of a man known as Shintarou, Myoujou bore witness as he saw the untimely demise of his foe in the hands of Shintarou, who simply held the poor man's head before delivering a not-so-delicate headbutt that may have caved in his skull if not broken a few of the man's orbital bones.

'Moving on...' Myoujou took his gaze off the twitching felled clansman, choosing to survey his surroundings as he saw more fighters approaching him this time wielding katanas, a series of blades native to Japan.

'On the other hand, a 'Sei-Type-Ki Martial Artist usually hides their intention to fight, like they're going on incognito mode or something, instead 'focusing on sensing the environment around them', then 'responding accordingly' as they quickly react to danger.'

'Once again.' Slipping under the slash of the finely crafted katana, Myoujou quickly slid past a flurry of slashes from several foes, jumping backwards to make distance between himself and his not-so-unexpected opponents. 'Like these guys right here.'

'This means that instead of fighting with pure force and anger, Martial Artists in this group mainly fight mainly with tactics, skills, and wit.' Myoujou clicked his teeth as his chest was nicked by the katana's trajectory, beginning to bleed slightly. 'Tch. Almost didn't see that one coming.'

"How you doing, kid? Still alive?" Shintarou added whilst nonchalantly catching a fist aimed at his face with a single hand. "Don't die on me yet kid, raising disciples ain't easy, y'know?"

-CRACK!-

"Gyaaaaarrrgghh-!"

A sharp crackling sound resounded within the ruined manors as with one hand, Shintarou crushed the fist of his opponent, leaving a mess of torn skin and bones, before silencing the screaming fighter with a heavy kick to the chest, sending the man airborne, flying meters into his group of fellow clansmen.

"Thanks but don't worry about me, old man. Worry about the health of the guy's chest you just caved in."

"Besides, if these guys were able to put me six feet under right here and now, then I'd never be able to fulfill my dreams."

"Haaaaa-"

Myoujou breathed out heavily, turning a wide arc before planting his feet firmly onto the ground with his feet slightly spread apart.

Just how many people were there trying to end his life before him?

-Five?

-Ten?

-Fifteen?

-Twenty?

Either way, they really wanted a piece of him, and Myoujou wasn't about to let them get it.

"You won't get away with this! You messed with the wrong group, now pay for your sins with death-!"

"How cliche. How could he say stuff like that without being embarrassed? Even I would have 'some' shame…"

'These guys should generally be around the same level as I am, though...' Licking the blood that trailed down his face as he evaded a deadly slash from his would-be murderers, Myoujou stared at the surrounding fighters as he started to hop up and down as if he was warming up mid-battle.

"Haiya- What a pain..."

"Man... I want to eat some 'Sakura-niku'/ Cherry Blossom Meat', do you folks have it around here?" Myoujou asked. Whenever he started to get into his element, he would start to lighten up, his mouth loosening up somewhat as he became much more receptive to the idea of trash talk and the likes while in battle for some reason.

"Don't worry about food, boy… You'll have plenty of chances to eat in hell!" Unfortunately for Myoujou, his foes weren't in the mood for entertaining him, and the hints of Shintarou's easy-going nature that was starting to affect him.

"Well, I don't blame you for not knowing it, since you guys seem so stuck up, after all…"

Beginning to freely taunt his enemies, Myoujou slowly yet surely started to feel the heat of battle as a small smile began to grace his face, brightening his youthful countenance somewhat.

"But maybe after I deal with you guys, some 'Bird-Nest's-Soup' would do…"

"Eat this, you brat!"

"Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, I'll kill you till you're dead-!" A perfectly same man said calmly without a hint of aggression and anger in his voice.

"As opposed to what? Killing me 'till I'm alive?"

"I'm gonna kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiillllllll you-!"

"Aren't you supposed to be emotionless killers? I mean, for people that invest in Martial Arts, and killing without emotion, you folks are pretty screwed in the head..." Myoujou said, actually somewhat 'concerned' if one could call it that.

"And speaking of investments, instead of 'Martial Arts', why don't you folks invest in a therapist? I can clearly see that you people, more specifically, 'he' needs it."

"We'll do just that…" The clansman chanting 'kill' over and over said...

" -After we invest in your casket before sending you to heeeeeell-!"

"You know what? Whatever." Myoujou didn't know whether he should be insulted that they were going to such lengths to kill him, or feel appreciated that they would actually get a casket to bury him in.

'Those guys in The Inside, would never do something like that for me... If I was slightly less sane, then my heart would sorta go 'doki-doki'...'

''But-!' Myoujou delivered a front kick to the man that Shintarou sent flying in his direction with a simple punch, sending the man right back to Shintarou where he met his demise with the giant of a man snapping his neck effortlessly.

'I'm much saner compared to most, especially these guys.' Myoujou inhaled sharply.

"Alright... Here I go..."

According to Shintarou, who possessed a 'Dou-Type-Ki', Myoujou on the other hand had possessed 'Ki' of the 'Sei' nature, and in due time, would be able to better utilize it to an even greater degree in the future.

But besides its definition, there were are various stages of Ki usage, being:

'Concentration, Invocation, and Release.'

For the past three years Myoujou faced scary situations that required extreme effort from him in order for him to stay alive, and with such experiences came results that would never betray the effort he placed into his training.

Whether the foes were armed or not, or the countless handicaps placed on him while training, the mission and the criteria for victory were still the same.

-To win, and do so while remaining alive.

After all, this wasn't some kind of brave selfless sacrificial hero story, was it? Dying after winning? Leave senseless sacrifices to the heroes of the world. What was the point of vagabonds in this world to strive for becoming the strongest if they don't get to experience the feeling of the strength that comes with it?

From what he could remember from conversations he had with Shintarou, he had learned that the 'Tenrai Shikou-ryu/ Heavenly Four Mirrors Style' was derived from an older style that was birthed from the depths of the 'Inside' and that by creating this style he wanted to use power, skill, flexibility, and speed alongside his ideas to further boost his strength.

And work it did, though there was another extra factor that shined through its creation...

-And that was its ability to fight efficiently, whether when fighting multiple opponents or not, or whether at a disadvantage or not. That factor being the main ability that was carried over from its parent style.

"Die-!"

Evading and redirecting the stream of nonending attacks, Myoujou felt the corners of his lip tug up in elation, getting the hang and flow of the current atmosphere he was currently planted within. And while his brain still went at nearly a million miles per hour, thinking of every possible choice he or his adversaries could make, his body moved on nonetheless.

-[MIZUKAGAMI/ THE WATER MIRROR]-

'To exist with stillness and with calmness but arise with viciousness…'

'With softness, and hardness…'

'Meekness, and boldness…'

"!"

Those near him wasted no time in attacking him before he tried anything suspicious, but as he moved from his spot, it was as if he suddenly vanished into thin air, nowhere to be seen.

Putting strength in his legs, he moved at a speed that their eyes had trouble even seeing, barely catching on the already fading way blurs of his afterimage as he struck out, ruthlessly attacking these areas of interest without holding back whatsoever.

-Two times.

-WHAM!, WHAM!-

-Four times.

-WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!-

-Six times.

-WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!-

-Eight times.

WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!-

-Ten times.

WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!- 

-And even more.

WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!- 

WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!- 

All vulnerable spots he could reach, he attacked rapidly and repeatedly. The neck, the eyes, the groin, and the throat.

It was all fair game. After all, when it came to the game of life and death, there were no rules...

-There were only winners, who survived, and losers, who didn't.

And as he performed these moves whilst weaving through the barrage of attacks aimed at him from his foes around him as per Shintarou's instructions, a silvery mist that was near imperceptible to the human eye had begun to form, and with that Myoujou's technique had reached its climax.

And its results were...

-[𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑: 𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒]-

"..."

"..."

"..."

-The complete and utter defeat of those that lay before him.

-THUD!-

"Not bad." Shintarou smirked seeing his disciple strike out with a fast and furious flurry of blows. This move was truly but a mere glimpse into the power that Shintarou wanted to create with this new style of his, and seeing that his disciple managed to perform the techniques with such skill made his choice in training him worth it. "Though, it'll take a while before you get on my level, haha!"

"Haa…. Haa…. Hmm? Everyone else is done for?" Myoujou exhaled as he observed the land before him.

'Holy cra-'

'Whoa... It's a total wipeout...' Myoujou thought. Bodies that look battered and broken with all sorts of indentations that shouldn't be seen in humans lay convulsing around him that littered the outside area around Shintarou.

When he looked at those around him, he could see the same situation, but to a lesser degree, as most of those that attacked Shintarou not only didn't seem to be breathing, but their very anatomy seemed... Caved in? Bent out of shape? Ruined?

'I hate to say it, but you guys got off lucky by facing me…' Myoujou thought, casting a downward look at the figures at his feet.

Calming down, Myoujou took a deep look at his hand, or rather… The power within it.

'This… This power…'

To be able to make it this far... It was wonderful... Nearly intoxicating to Myoujou, that is.

'I... I can do a hell of a lot with this, haha…' Myoujou's face threatened to split into a wide grin he didn't even know he could pull.

'With this power, I can even become the Prime Minister of Japan and then from there change the world, and I can even defeat that man, The Ogre with this strength and his own genes at that too…'

"I think I have it down pack now… I really mastered this technique, haven't I?" Myoujou spoke as he grinned at Shintarou.

"Ding dong, yer' dumb and wrong~" Shintarou hummed in a sing-song tune, gaining a questioning glance from Myoujou.

"Huh? In that case, what's my score?" Myoujou asked.

"Five out of Ten." Shintarou said.

"?"

"Five? Out of... Ten? Eh? How so, I thought I took care of those guys real good…" Myoujou murmured as they started to head out of the ruined villa as they conversed.

"Many reasons kiddo, but for now, I'll only focus on the main ones." Shintarou sighed, crouching down to check if the felled clansmen had any valuables on their person.

"First of all, it's the wasteful movements you made. You took many movements leading to wasted actions..." Shintarou said, beginning his 'post-game' lecture, surprising Myoujou on things he hadn't even really realized. "Since your mind's running in overdrive before your body can move, it's most likely to cause a delay of sorts between your mind and body."

"And thirdly," Shintarou pointed at the cuts and scrapes on Myoujou's person. "You took too much damage, going against fodder like them."

"Fodder? Aren't they around my level? How are those guys..." Myoujou trailed off. 

"That's why, it's such an unreliable and disgusting performance that I have to give you a lower grade y'know~" Shintarou waved his finger, poking fun at his disciple Myoujou.

"Heh. If you say so, Old man. But the only thing disgusting is that shitty accent of yours-"

-BONK!-

"Ouch" Myoujou yelped as he felt Shintarou's fist nearly made an indent on the top of his skull. "What was that for…?"

"Say what my dear disciple~?" Shintarou affectionately called out to his disciple as he cleaned his ears with his pink finger.

"Stop that, old man." Myoujou gagged seeing Shintarou use that tone. "The only ones I can accept doing that, are... What did you call it? The 'Esteemed Maidens With Extremely Blessed Bossoms'? Yeah, that."

"Hahaha-! Damn perverted kid! That's what you're thinking of?"

"Huh? You were the one that said it first though?"

In his mind, that tone was reserved for the 'Maidens of the Blessed Bossoms', a mythical sect of bountiful beauties that had admirers of all genders across the earth, and when he first left The Inside he ran into many people that belonged to that sect.

If he could remember correctly he had a run-in with said maiden in question while on a mission in Dubai protecting a politician from a certain mercenary from Congo.

-Though she was a hag and was 'Older than dirt' as Myoujou would later remark...

-XOXOXOX-

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-A FEW MONTHS AGO-

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-XOXOXOX-

Their meeting was something like a scene from a cheesy comedy movie...

-He was buying donuts...

-She was doing donuts... In a sports car... On the roads of Dubai... With Eurobeat music playing from her stereo radio... Whilst wearing a kimono that did not leave anything to the imagination

-And she nearly knocked his ass out.

But not due to her beauty or via a fight... But with her expensive sportscar. Which she ran him over with.

Although he was fond of Isekai stories such as In*yasha, and Al*ce in W*nderland, he had no desire of dying to find out whether or not other worlds truly existed.

And she nearly Isekai'd him, and though it didn't harm him much, using the utter muscle power of his physique and bloodline, his Martial Arts, and sheer willpower, to disperse most of the brunt force of the car crashing into him as he exited the donut shop, before maneuvering and rolling himself over the hood and off the car, gaining nothing but a few bruises, and while he wasn't on an 'adventure', he still thought of the experience to be rather 'bizarre'.

She had glared at him whilst releasing Ki when he called her a hag in retaliation, but could you really blame him? He had gained an ability that let him gauge an opponent's strength and weakness at a basic level that could even allow him to estimate a person's age somewhat accurately.

Scratch that, it wasn't an ability, it was just how good his eyes were.

But nevertheless, Myoujou carried on mourning for his destroyed donuts whilst ignoring the young-looking hag.

But looking at the bright side, at least the lady apologized... Somewhat... While giving him rather an uncomfortable glare that seemed to peer into his soul, leaving him with a few words before stepping on the gas, and speeding off into the distance once more but with even more speed this time.

"You seem familiar, boy."

'"I seem familiar you say? You knock my ass over and say that? What's with this young-looking old hag? Are you trying to flirt with a minor? Where's the damned police you need them..." Myoujou wondered as he continued to hold the utterly mashed-up donuts close to his chest.

Relaying the story to a Shintarou that couldn't stop laughing he later realized that the woman was a Martial Artist named Kushinada Mikumo, 'The Bewitching Fist' that currently outclassed him by an immense amount, reaching well past the realms of a Master.

'Of course she is stronger than me, why am I not surprised...' Myoujou thought. He knew that someone with Ki that potent couldn't be a pushover.

It was then that he learned...

-That some Martial Artists also had a life of their own outside of endless training.

"Road Racing, huh? Never would've thought... Especially with that damned Kimono..." Although due to his training, especially in meditation, he wouldn't be seen dead blushing like a bloody idiot, he did have to admit that she painted a pretty nice-looking picture, in fact, it might even have awakened a certain type of preference inside of him.

Too bad she was old as dirt; 'Possibly old enough to witness Oda Nobunaga's burning down temples', Myoujou would think.

To say it was surprising, was an understatement, but what had really hooked him wasn't her appearance.

-Mostly.

What truly caught his attention was his own instincts practically screaming through every pore of his skin, telling him that this woman before him was strong, and that he might be in danger in a fight.

And he didn't like it.

And to deal with that feeling, he decided to train even more.

-XOXOXOX-

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-XOXOXOX-

"Yeah..." Myoujou said, pulling his head out of the clouds. "As I said, unlike when a pretty lady does it, that accent of yours is horrible when an old geezer like you does it-"

-BONK!-

"Gyaaaack-!" Myoujou yelped in pain as a firm fist landed atop his head.

"But hey kiddo here's the good part, yer' getting better, so don'tcha cry too much now."

'And here the accent comes again.' Myoujou this time kept his thoughts in his head, remembering his Mother's advice of 'If you have nothing nice to say, then don't say it', whenever she would find something unscrupulous that really ticked her off, but held off on swearing like a sailor because young Myoujou was around.

-She did swear like a sailor, Myoujou would later find out, but it was to the point where even a sailor would blush.

If it was one thing he picked up due to living with Shintarou that he tried his damnedest to cover up, it was a slowly budding accent of his own that caused him his very own personal despair.

And if it was one thing Shintarou picked up… Or rather, understood, due to living with Myoujou, was that the boy overanalyzed nearly every single detail for months on end.

-One guy moves slightly to the right? Better make five million contingency plans for if he moves to the left the next time.

It was honestly funny yet concerning for him to see.

-The rain is falling? Better count the individual chances of being blindsided by hidden rain assassins taking advantage of this moment and keep warm and try not to catch a cold.

He understood that it was because of the youth's years of living in a land ruled by chaos and violence, but...

-What was it, a childlike imagination, or just pure paranoia?

The kid would even start monologuing in his head for a long time if no one including those two thieving twins back in The Inside weren't there to stop him.

'A laid-back guy like me, having to teach this worrywart of a brat, huh… What a life.'

"When I get back…. I wanna eat… I'm feeling some Sakura-Niku..." Myoujou yawned as they prepared to head down the Kuremisago Mountain.

'Ahhh, some 'Sakura-Niku/ Raw Horse Meat' huh, the old classic…' Shintarou nodded. 'Wait, huh?'

Once again the master was baffled at his student.

"You again with your shitty taste in food" Shintarou bluntly said

"Hey!" Myoujou replied, offended at his own Master slighting him. "It's an acquired taste."

"-Yeah, an acquired taste of shitty food." Shintarou retorted without missing a beat.

"Yeah, yeah, old man. You've made your point."

"What's this? Not gonna answer?" 

"Hn."

Hearts of snakes, brains of pigs, larvae, turtles, spiders, scorpions, frogs, centipedes, grasshoppers, and his often favorite, raw cuts meat, especially the liver, Myoujou had a firm bond with food.

-But what he really couldn't understand was why the people around him didn't like to eat the same things he liked to eat, and often found their reaction of gagging to be somewhat over-exaggerated.

He didn't eat like this when he lived back with his mother as he was sure that she'd throw a fit, but he couldn't help but feel grateful to God that he had the chance to partake in such cuisine

In fact, the only one to seemingly understand his palette was that angry-looking seaweed-haired boy he would normally see in The Inside sometimes.

Just like that seaweed boy with one of the meanest glares he'd ever seen, he simply had a broad palette, so why couldn't they understand that?

"Anyway kid, let's leave this hellhole. But before that..." Shintarou hummed. "Let's ransack whatever building we come across on the way down. The Kuremisago got a lot of history, so they should have some valuables as well..."

"Thievery again, huh." At this point, he was used to seeing Shintarou doing some drastic things in order to recoup on a potential loss, so without any complaints, Myoujou nodded whilst walking.

'What's the worst that could happen? Getting even further dragged into a family feud? Having to fight someone way out of my league? Please. That's already happened.'

"I'm in." Myoujou said. He was confident that he'd leave this place alive anyway.

Shintarou, declaring this mission a bust, made his way alongside Myoujou down the Kuremisago Mountain to escape all this drama that they weren't being paid anymore for, but unbeknownst to them…

That their attempts to avoid any further issues at hand by doing the most sensible thing to do and leave, would not only serve to draw them in, but also involve them in the problem even more than they had already expected...

-And it would also cause them to make direct, 'up-close-and-personal' contact with the very culprit of this suspicious situation.

But as some would say...

-Blind is Fortune, and Lady Luck, yet blind, too, are those that seek refuge in their light.

A lesson, that Myoujou would surely learn, in due time.

-XOXOXOX-

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13.5TH FIGHT: QUO VADIS? PERSONA NON GRATA (2). END

ALTERNATE TITLE: 13.5TH FIGHT: WHERE ARE YOU GOING? YOU ARE NOT WELCOME (2). END

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-XOXOXOX-