Why do I fight? 

My claws cleave the air in a way that was impossible earlier. Earlier… such a strange concept. What is earlier? When was it? Do I mean half a second ago or half a year ago, when I didn’t even have them? Both are true, either way. 

They’re met by a fan, Two of them. Fans so sharp I believe it safely goes beyond the supernatural and into the realm of ‘Absolute Anime Level Bullshit’. The less said about their durability, the better. Yet still, I meet them head on. 

Exhaustion has broken me. I had never been so tired in my entire life… and then it didn’t stop. A day became two, became three, became five. And more and more and more and more and more. Yet still, the threat of death persisted and so my body rose and rose and rose again and again and again. Always ready, always willing, always determined. 

After the first eternity, when thoughts began to pop in again, the urge and desire to give up surfaced. I knew they would mean death, could feel it down deep into my core, and yet they came around. The shock of that had been enough to freeze me in place for a moment, ripping my entire face off at the time from an aura coated fan. I really thought I would die then. Even Xilvia seemed a bit scared, considering her next attacks came much much slower. 

Suicide. I had never considered it before. 

Never. Not once in my entire life. 

I was born in the 21st century, America. I’d been depressed before, had shit heaped onto me, been ground down slightly (or extremely, depending on your views I suppose) by life. But never had I suffered so much or lost so much that suicide had been a real thought in my mind. Never had I seen the future and considered having it end. 

But I was just so tired. All I’d need to do is lay down… and not get up this time. 

What waited for me after this? It wasn’t so much any kind of thought as a feeling. Battle, battle, battle, battle, war, war, war war, suffering. 

Agony and Suffering. 

More life and death battles, more threats, more killing, more breaking of my mind. To exist was to suffer and that had never been more true for the current me. I could feel it all the way down into my bones. The longer I live… the more I am going to be hurt. In ways no one should be. After all… I’d seen Hell. The true, real, Hell. I might escape it by dying… but there was no way I’d escape those energies if I continued to live. The soul-mind barrier would break, or those energies from the crystal would seep out again, or something would come along and upset the balance. 

I was doomed to a life of a torment, with a capstone of it waiting down the road. It all crystallized for me… that I was well and truly doomed. Call it a prophecy or prediction but I knew it in my heart as sure the sun rises that if I didn’t die… I’d wish I had some day. 

Those thoughts slowed me down, more cuts appeared on my body, the time between waking up to the next fight seemed to take longer and longer. The door and page on my life seemed to be closing. Xilvia would kill me. Maybe not on purpose, but if I suddenly truly stopped, she’d probably actually kill me. I could die, just like that. 

Suicide…. It was so close and in such easy reach… 

I stopped. 

And then I punched myself in the face. 

Fuck that. Fuck all of that. Forget survival instincts, forget training, forget anything else. Suicide… what right did I have? I control my own life and if I want to take it, that’s my decision. I’m allowed to. Fuck anyone that ever says differently. 

But that also means…. It’s my decision. Not the decision of an exhausted mind and body too tired to form thoughts properly. Not the thought of someone doomed or overly emotional. It’s the decision of the best, smartest version of me and only that me. Me at my highest point and no when or where else. I refuse to die to my own emotions and fears. How cowardly. I must be even more tired than I thought to entertain it. 

And so the second eternity passed. Time lost all meaning. It was just battle after battle after battle. My Analyze skill worked over time all the while and Xilvia became… harder to fight. I could see her movements? She sped up. I blocked? She hit harder. The worst part was I learned the hard way that there were barriers that not even my Analyze could go through without the steps beforehand. There was a… black… abyss of information in Xilvia. Knowledge I couldn’t learn. It was close, so close, but always just that, close. I lacked a… perspective, a step, something I needed to see beforehand. 

Which made all her movements that much harder to read. But not impossible. 

The third eternity was different. I got used to it. You can only be exhausted and tired for so long. My thoughts became sharper, more straightforward, lacking in creativity. 

Dodge. Block. Slash. Cut. Cut. Cut. Feint. Cut. Twirl. Bite. Slash. Curl. Leap. Jump. Whip. Dive. Cut. Slash. Sleep. Bite. 

On and on and on, most of the time fusing into a simple ‘knowing’, the same as lifting your hand to grab a bottle of water. Then my thoughts… began to have room. I could suddenly think again. I instantly knew what had happened, could even feel it with my Analyze as my own ‘Power Level’ Skyrocketed. 

I’d adjusted to being exhausted. Completely. My thoughts would still be chained down but C-Rank was superhuman… even while exhausted, there was space for thought. 

And I began to use it. I’d taken a bloody, horrible, constant beating for what seemed like years now. Now I flooded my new thoughts towards combat. Faster, harder, trying new things, always trying new things. Only to be met by the Titantium Wall that was Xilvia. A Titanium Wall with infinite blades. She could not be beat, could not be stopped. But I pushed her towards more and that was enough. 

Improving, always. 

And so a thought began to coalesce. 

Why do I fight? 

The answer was instantaneous. 

Freedom. 

I loved this world. The words, the thoughts, came as an utter shock to me. But it was true. There was potential here, unlike my old world. It was unarguably, objectively, worse. Completely and totally worse. Despite the amenities via magic… it was still a medieval world. It was still ruled by the strong and the powerful, rather than lazily moving along by the strong and the powerful. People were unequal sometimes from simple fundamental birth, let alone so many other elements. 

Fantasy worlds… were absolute garbage compared to modern worlds. Living in them was insane. 

But it had potential. 

Here, a bard could sing and cause a whole city to erupt in the joy of the past. Here, a woman could control flames like a master artist. Here, there were more races, more world, more adventures. Here… all dreams were possible. At least, that was my dearest hope. A man had turned into a cat for god’s sake, I could become a- I could become what I wanted. 

And all I had to do? Did I need to learn quantum physics, work for decades in politics, discover a new source of energy, simply wait till I was old, or simply be met by an impossible to cross wall? No. 

I simply needed to get better at fighting. 

How… silly. How funny. How… amazing. 

A smile covered my face as the third eternity kicked off and I began to really push. My own Analyze, no, my own Power Gauge, told me. It sang to me. Every millimeter of true improvement, every second I developed, it sang to me how I was becoming stronger. I even began to use the inverse to find my flaws and to mercilessly leap away from them, improving as a result. I’d tried that new swing three times with my tail, but my power gauge said nothing? New swing, new curve, again and again and again an- ah. Increase. So you swing like this. So you twirl like this. So you attack like this. 

So you fight like this. 

I still passed out from blood loss but for once… it only fueled me to go higher. Death was inevitable, how many can say they get the opportunity to see it, to face it so many times? The joy to fight against the inevitable? 

Fighting my way to my dreams… how romantic. 

I was finally beginning to have fun. 

*****

Konohora’s heart nearly stopped as the gates opened and a scene straight from her past resurfaced. 

Blood…. So much blood. Body parts scattered all over, limbs, legs, tails, wings, and more strewn across the area. Blood both fresh and old, stinking to high heavens. It coated the entire courtyard. More than some of it having turned black by time. Some of the flesh was already decomposing, most of it in heaps or bloody chunks, hardly any of the flesh still in anything approaching one piece. 

The walls, the trees above, the ground… all covered in so, so much blood. 

Suddenly, Konohora was back on the battlefield, healing wounded soldiers, fighting when she had to. She had only been ten at the time but she had gone near anyway. All healers had been needed, even the young ones. She hadn’t fought until the later years of the war, when she was a teen, and even then, that had only been as necessary. Primarily, she had just been a healer on the outskirts of the worst of it. But still… the land had looked exactly like this, no, even that had been worse but it still thrust those horrible memories into her mind. 

Her hand tightened around her metal staff, creaking it. 

And in the middle? Her whole body shivered. 

There was a woman, B-Rank, fighting Derek with fans. Fans that moved so fast and gleamed with a slight green aura, so that it seemed like hundreds were attacking Derek at every moment. A constant barrage of green light and even looking at the fans nearly felt like she was being cut. Their sharpness was undeniable. She was strong, wearing a green emerald dress that somehow remained spotless. 

But Derek… 

He was near naked, coated in blood. The clothes he’d gotten from Vanessa were long torn to shreds. The only thing still lasting was underwear and not the ones he’d arrived with. They too, were coated in blood, with large rips going through them. Coated didn’t do it justice, she realized. It was as if he’d been dipped into a pool of blood… 

And he was smiling. Smiling wide, teeth showing, meeting Xilvia blow for blow. So quick and rapid, that it looked like a dozen claws were flashing at once. The most shocking thing was… 

Dark Red Energy. It coated his claws, his claws that seemed to shine even deeper than before, like a black abyss. For all physical fighters… Aura was their natural end point. Natural. It manifested in many, many ways but ultimately, everyone who fought eventually reached some proficiency with it. In the B-Grade, at least. It was somewhat different for magic users and there was a variety of unique or different individuals out there but… 

Derek had learned how to wield Aura. While in C-Grade. Naturally. 

And… he was moving so quickly, attacking so ferociously, hitting so hard that the clashes between his claws and her fans caused an ear piercing screech to echo out, happening so fast it was like a constant low drone of metal on metal. 

She would die. The truth reached her in a second. If she fought Derek, she would die. They would all die. Even if they joined together, they would still die. It had only been a month… 

Yet Derek had become exactly as strong as she had feared he could be, even faster than she had ever dreamed of. 

Suddenly, everything came to a stop, Derek and Xilvia turning to look at them. One with a bored but passive gaze. The other… 

Shining red eyes and a wide smile greeted her from a bloody figure. 

She shivered as a Demon peered down into her soul.