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Lennon 'Bladeless Monster' Hull

 

My foot slides backward as the pressure laid upon my formless Claymore and arm buckle under the demon's force. Its claws are sharp, deadly, and vehemently after my vital organs. Quite an agile bastard. Someone must have trained him well... or... he lived long enough to know the right places to aim. Instinct is born, not built, but I prefer intuition, which is. So, I carefully divert the lethal strikes to somewhere... a little less critical.

 

Pivoting to my left, I glide my blade alongside my movement, allowing the elongated and shadowy claw to elicit a scratching noise over my Dominion. Then, I tilt the sword down, holding it with two imaginary arms to better control its placement, and I backstep once more.

 

The intricate movements end with the claw burrowing deep into the earth below as Seatco glares at me through the edge of the firm slits on his face. A second hand sails my way, and I reposition, blocking this one as well. I'm reduced to only defensive actions as Kate, Bonfire, and even the Undead one are occupied with their own dangers.

 

Nonetheless, I do not retreat. The Sigil within my body beats alongside my heart, the sensation impossible to ignore. I don't even attempt to resist it, however. I let my Sigil, my first and likely final one, Soldier, guide me. I allow it to wrap a hand around my formless limbs, placing strength within me.

 

Many fear or refuse the impact of a Sigil on one's soul and mind. I'm quite resistant to the call due to my experiences, but I don't fight the feeling. The closer I am to myself, the greater my swings. I find myself within a battle of blood and death more than any other locale.

 

Not for a single second, however, does my focus wane. It is upon this demon without stop, my eyes scanning his movements, my muscles reacting before he even moves, and my brain constantly formulating new techniques to counter his claws and shadows.

 

I clash swords with the lithe demon, our blades slicing through the thickening fog that surrounds us. With each swing, I fend off the relentless onslaught, my movements fueled by instinct and determination. Though the demon possesses greater speed and strength, enough to cleave a hole into a nearby hill large enough for a hundred men to walk through, I refuse to falter, relying on my skill and precision to keep me in the fight.

 

Seatco is not just the most dangerous foe I have ever faced. He is like me. He loves a good battle. I can see it on his face. He's fighting the control of the Mother Below. He's strong enough to kill me. I know he is. But he's holding back from enjoying the fight.

 

On one end, it pisses me off—the fact he's holding back. But on the other... I relish it, the chance to grow even further, facing a being so far above me.

 

The higher the mountain before me, the faster I climb. And climb, I do. Always. Higher. Higher. Higher. There will never be a limit I do not seek a higher one.

 

We practically dance across the battlefield, a hundred clashes within a second. Long have I stopped using Monster. At this point, my Dominion moves before my body can, acting in my stead and for me.

 

However, it is my skill that allows my formless swords to keep up, even as the fog swirls around us, threatening to obscure my every move. I turn one slash into multiple, weaving it perfectly to meet his claws twice or even three times before they end their sweep. I cut through the mist with each strike, my focus unwavering as I keep my eyes locked on my elusive adversary.

 

I can't let him enter the darkness, or he'll vanish to reappear in another place where it exists. I don't know what anyone else is doing as my concentration is only upon this being, but I can surmise by the fact I'm alone that it's not going good.

 

Still, with each parry and counterattack, I inch closer to learning something new. With each second, I earn fewer and fewer wounds. Seatco nods to me as he slams his foot into the ground, launching toward me as his body momentarily vanishes.

 

Despite the odds stacked against me, I find myself growing to enjoy the battle, a smile creeping onto my face as adrenaline courses through my veins.

 

Seatco is gone, invisible to my senses. I close my eyes without shutting them, the time too transient to do so. Nevertheless, I enter the vast darkness where thoughts reside.

 

All slows to a calm as I feel the sword in my hands. Dia. She is always here with me now. I let her choose where to go, having complete faith in my partner—in myself.

 

My arms wrench to the side, as if carried by the blade itself, and I open my eyes to find an opened palm, all the nails conjoined together as I am stabbed at by a knife hand. Yet despite the impossible speed, Dia meets the nails.

 

A smile grows on my face as I formally meet Seatco's greatest might, this... stab of his impossible to block, dodge, or even see. I grit my teeth as I let my legs penetrate the ground, activating Monster to its peak and leveraging all the strength I can possibly summon. Dia holds mightily, bearing the weight of two impossible beings, but in the end, she is only a blade.

 

And she shatters.

 

As our clash reaches its peak, a sudden crackling explosion of my Dominion sends us both reeling backward, the force of the impact knocking us apart. I roll head over heels, ending on my stomach as I cough out blood.

 

Shaking my head, I quickly move to my feet, harried but alive. As I stagger to regain my footing, I lock eyes with the demon once more, a silent understanding passing between us.

 

"Wonderful. What is your name?"

 

We both smile as one, a fellow warrior meeting another. He is like Kai. He is like Karn. He is like me. We all love to fight. Some things pierce through even the swarthiest corruption. A pure soul.

 

"Lennon. Lennon Hull."

 

Seatco rubs his two darkened hands together as if preparing for a round of gambling. Then, he holds a singular one out, offering a handshake.

 

"Mother hates it when I do this... but I admire your swordsmanship. Your skill. Your drive. It fills me with shivers, reminding me of what I once had. I am Seatco, the eldest of the Night Peoples of Demonkind, known as the Unseen Vestige, once called the Veiled Adumbrate. Of course, I don't dislike my current... being... but... I do miss some parts. The strongest of us... tend to retain much, but we do not keep it all."

 

The demon's face twists in pain, as if something is shocking him while he tries to complain about the Mother Below. It would seem he speaks the truth, and that these older, more powerful Fallen still possess some autonomy. Or, at the very least, they remember what their old lives were.

 

I return the respect, one warrior to another. I ask to fight him alone, only partially paying attention to those behind.

 

"It is a pleasure to meet you, truly. May you let my companions go? They have no place in our fight."

 

Again, Seatco's countenance buckles, the agony evident. His hand curls before returning to his side.

 

"That... is not something I can do, Lennon Hull. Mother desires blood. Defeat me, and you shall have your wish. I will not kill them until I finish you."

 

I nod, knowing that what I ask for is too grand. Nonetheless, I stride forward once more to meet Seatco, relishing in the adrenaline of a good foe. As I take my first step, though, a blisteringly radiant shower of daggers washes over Seatco.

 

The demon moves swiftly, striking out at the air with awful speed, cutting down each and every dagger with his clawed fingernails. The elongated shadows from his hands aid the movements, preventing a single injury upon his form.

 

I squint my eyes, staring at what can only be Virgil on my left side, but I only manage to see him for a flickering second. Then, he reappears behind Seatco.

 

"I thought I ended you!"

 

The demon shouts in surprise as I wait a moment, not wanting to break our respect. Virgil and Seatco clash rapidly, a light meeting a shadow. Daggers glance across claws, as for a moment, the man I overlooked many times is even more dangerous than I.

 

Virgil Boone is not a swordsman. But he does not have to be. Those daggers, those hands, those constructs of Ether, each possess as much practice and concentration as my swings do.

 

The two are but a flurry of movement before Virgil is tossed away, failing to dodge Seatco's 'knife-hand' attack even with a Flicker. The glowing man rolls to a stop beside me, a chunk of flesh missing by his side. He growls as I stare down at him, observing the man as he grips the dirt with determination. Then, he rises to a low crouch shakily beside me, one hand still clenching dirt.

 

Seatco grins happily, even while holding onto his head, flashes of agony visible to the demon.

 

"Two? That is more than I could ever ask for. I thought you had potential before you died, bright light. What is your name so I may engrave it upon my fog like your friend's there?"

 

Virgil doesn't answer, only glaring at the demon. His focus is admirable, but he's just too emotionless. To him, only his duty matters. He is too inflexible, never focusing on himself. That... that virtue will be his downfall; I already know it. He will die for another, never living for himself.

 

So, I respond to Seatco for him.

 

"Virgil Boone is his name."

 

A grin remains on my face, only broadening as I witness both Virgil's frustration, which is quickly shot down, and Seatco's joy.

 

"Wonderful! Come! Together! Face me! Let us have a glorious battle, just as we once did in the Arena Of Gluskab! Just as the strongest are sent into the Crimson Court!"

 

I use my Dominion to pat Virgil on the back, letting him know a fact that he doesn't seem reassured by.

 

"It's you and me, then."

 

Virgil shakes his head, whispering to me with a series of threaded tunnels of Ether from his mouth to my ear.

 

"Lily is coming to help, not that she has much time left. Give it... a minute, and Wyatt will be back. Then, the three of us can take this bastard."

 

I don't bestow the man a nod, as Seatco is already upon us. He said for us to come at him, but the burgeoning veins of Darklight on Seatco's face tell us that the Mother Below would prefer if a different story would come to pass.

 

Instead, I raise my blade, deflecting a single claw that ends with me sliding a whole body length away while Virgil leaps backward from the other claw. The fog around us continues to force our attention to slash at it, to keep it all away while it drains some energy. Otherwise, we risk an insidious spike emerging within our flesh.

 

As Virgil and I face off against the formidable demon, our blades flashing in the dim light, we move with calculated precision. We try attacking alternately, but that quickly fails as Seatco proves to us neither one can penetrate his defenses. So instead, we attack as one, stabbing, slashing, and using every advantage we can to hurt this demon. I loathe fighting beside another, but this time, it is needed.

 

Still, it is not enough—more human blood lines the ruined dirt below.

 

Yet, we refuse to yield, our determination staunch as we press on, trading blows with the monstrous foe. Though we are wounded and bloodied, we fight on, knowing that reinforcements will soon arrive to bolster our ranks.

 

And true to our hopes, our companion appears—a chilling young girl with crimson fangs and nails, her grin betraying her fierce resolve. She throws herself into the fray with reckless abandon, only to be swatted aside by the demon's immense strength.

 

Undeterred, the girl quickly recovers as her wounds are nothing, the liquid-like state of her body protecting her. Together, the three of us stand united against Seatco, our attacks relentless as we press the demon on all fronts.

 

Regardless of our might, the demon still finds time to talk.

 

"A Colt outside of its frame? How positively interesting. You humans are only getting better at that kind of thing, aren't you? Hmmn? I smell a familiar scent upon you, little girl."

 

I glance at Lily as she scoffs, the Blooming Spider Lily bearing zero caution or care against even a Demigod. Her reddened fangs, however, send a peculiar shiver down my spine. She isn't particularly fast or strong, but I instinctively know that those fangs are dangerous.

 

If she could land those upon Seatco... the warrior might just die.

 

"Yeah!? And who are you? Some weird shadow-dude? Just die. Wyatt is sleepy, and Blodwyn wants a new Sigil!"

 

Seatco replies with a smile, finding the little girl to be humorous, not dangerous, like Virgil and me.

 

"Oh, is that so? Hmm... where... where have I... Oh. Oh. You are his child. The Graves. Wonderful. I have been wanting payback for what he did. Without his damned meddling, I'd..."

 

The demon suddenly falls to a lone knee mid-sentence, gasping out in pain. Then, I watch as his eyes glaze over, something faraway force taking over. I step backward as cold sweat immediately lines my back from the gaze that falls upon us three.

 

'Seatco' cracks his neck and stretches his limbs as no one even moves an inch. We all watch, frozen, as a figure speaks to us all.

 

"If I cannot end Killian... then I will slaughter the next best thing. His daughter. Or... his son."

 

Slow footsteps resound as 'Seatco' takes multiple strides toward me. I lash out with my Dominion, fighting against whatever force this is. I scream, but my voice doesn't leave my throat while I glare at this demon, this Motherbound.

 

"You... You're mind is still awake. Impressive for an ape such as you. Here, let me—"

 

"Leave him alone, Eldest."

 

Wyatt's voice cuts through the paralysis as I feel metal wrap around my limbs before vanishing into the wind. Still, the effect remains as I remove the stiffness from my joints.

 

Eldest, as Wyatt calls him, turns to face Wyatt. I peer at the other two, finding Lily wholly gone, likely returned to her Colt, and Virgil's eyes moving while the rest of him is petrified. He'll be moving in a little, I think.

 

I tighten my grasp around my sword as I focus wholeheartedly on my Dominion, knowing that this is no longer Seatco. This being deserves none of that respect, as he's ripped the mind from the demon. Dia's soft handle meets my calloused hands made of nothing, and I wait, itching for the moment to strike.

 

"Wyatt Graves. We finally meet. You have been quite a nuisance, letting many through her filters. Even worse, is you are impossible to track. But now that I have found you..."

 

The fog around us unexpectedly vanishes as if it was never put there by Seatco's Dominion. But that is not all. The Underworld ceases to exist entirely as I find myself, along with four others, standing in a featureless cosmos.

 

Stars line the vastness, far, far beyond anything I've ever known, yet my feet still find a floor where there should be none. I turn, seeing Wyatt, Virgil, and surprisingly Kate, as they all similarly recover from the sudden shift in the environment.

 

I give Kwakiteh a nod as Mie answers my unspoken question.

 

"We freed ourselves when... that thing arrived. Be careful, all. This being mind... it is... ancient. Older than the Binary Lords. Older than... anything I've ever known. Older than the rocks upon the surface. Older than the spires in Starkbluffs... older than it all. It is... timeless... it has lived... longer than the stars? How is this possible? I..."

 

My senses refocus as I enter the deepest, most profound concentration I can. I feel my Dominion crack and shudder as I place so much pressure on the blade in my hand. Dia whines in pain, but she knows better than to ask me to stop. Only broken can she reemerge powerfully.

 

I half-expect some monologue, some long-winded explanation of this realm we are in, but Eldest simply stares at us with fathomless eyes. There are no discernable depths to those pupils as he lifts a hand... and clenches it.

 

A star in the distance lights up, the brilliance peeking through reality. And in but a moment, I sense a colossal, absolutely incomprehensibly large object crashing toward us.

 

The threat blares a warning within the depths of my mind, and my body moves on its own. My knees bend, my body lowers, and my head raises. My shoulders slide back into their places while Dia cries in painful joy.

 

Chains wrap around my body from Wyatt, but unlike all other fetters I've ever known, they do not restrict my movement. Instead, time slows as I feel... free as if my limits are tossed into the wind. My focus narrows to a pinprick, a hardly discernable point amongst the entirety of the falling star. I know it is impossible to cut a star, that I cannot do it, that no one can. Yet, I attempt anyway, for I will die anyway.

 

That point of focus tightens to nothing, thousands of times smaller than a needle, as I release the coiled force in my limbs.

 

With a swift and powerful stroke of my blade, I cleave through the airless cosmos, but within an inch of movement, Dia buckles and splinters beneath my speeds. Grunting, I manage to reconstruct her of my Dominion a moment before the blinding light strikes me.

 

The celestial body, once a blazing beacon of cosmic brilliance, is rent asunder by the sheer force of Dia, the Dominion shattering once more as the star is cut in half.

 

As my sword arcs through the air, trailing sparks of pure energy in its wake, I feel the searing heat of the star's molten core, its fiery embrace threatening to consume me whole. At the same time, I feel... feeble and fall to my knees, bleeding from all my orifices. The injury comes from moving beyond my limit, though, not the actual impact of the star.

 

A slow, mocking clap resounds in the remnants of the star's fall that seems to hold no repercussions upon the 'ground' that we remain on. Wyatt places a hand on my shoulder, helping me to my feet just as the Eldest speaks.

 

He strikes towards us once more, lifting another glowing hand. Still... he somehow seems... annoyed by his own strength?

 

"It would appear I am quite a bit weaker this far from my main body. No matter. Let's get this over with."

 

And within the next second, another star falls from the endless vastness of light around us. I tighten my hand upon my Dominion, expecting to find Dia, but she is not there—instead, a piercing pain slices through my skull.

 

It is a warning. I've used too much of my soul, and it has been wounded too regularly without time to recover. I exhale heavily, the air turning to mist as this realm is freezing cold.

 

Then, I meet Wyatt's brilliant yet worried eyes. I nod, seeing his determination. I don't want to die to this bastard. After all, he ruined my fight!