Futaba and other people in the verse are broken. (At least compared to the Knights and others in my story)
Now that I’m thinking about it… Isn’t Futaba just a real life cultivator?
She uses martial arts to manipulate wind (/ energy (/the ‘flow’ of things) in general)... Yup, a glorified cultivator.
All hail Futaba, the glorified cultivator!
Also, RIP Declan, your sacrifice will be remembered (for a day).
~~~~
Clash! Clang!
Feral, like a rabid dog.
That was what Declan thought of ‘I’. It was as if an animal had taken human skin and had run wild.
The environment wasn’t favorable and it distracted him quite easily.
The walls were mirrors, they reflected him. And everywhere Declan looked, he would see an endless number of reflections of himself and ‘I’. Not only that, but the room was barely enough to fight. He may have had enough room to move and dodge, but he didn’t have enough room to escape.
His opponent’s arms felt as if they were stronger than steel.
‘What inhumane strength…’
The situation was looking more and more unfavorable for Declan as a grim expression overcame his face.
“What shitty luck.”
He always felt as if he had bad luck, it was misfortune that blessed him, always.
There were many instances where only his strength saved him, both the past and now, as they say, ‘History repeats’.
Although the Knights called Suspects and Victims as mere trash left behind by society, it couldn’t have been more wrong. They were not merely left behind, no, they were thrown and tossed away by the cruel mistress of reality.
“Shitty… luck…?”
‘I’ sounded out those words as if they were hearing them for the first time in their life.
“Shitty… luck…!?”
“Ha… HAHAHA!!!”
“You’re quite funny, complaining about ‘shitty luck’ while you’re fighting me.”
‘I’ found it funny, at least one of the various personalities did.
‘ ‘Luck, huh? ‘Shitty luck’?’ How laughably ignorant this man is…’
‘I’s mouth clenched, there was always ignorance within people, this was a truth that all humans possessed. If they were not ignorant and knew all, how was that any different than being God itself?
“Your ignorance impresses me.”
Various voices spoke to him, the other personalities. They each voiced their opinion, some wanting to fight and others with different opinions that said otherwise.
“Ignorance? I suppose it is, but that’s my way of doing things. If you don’t like it, why don’t you force me to stop?”
Declan waved his hand at ‘I’, challenging him.
“You must have read my thoughts…”
Silence deeply engulfed the two as a slight twitch from Declan started the fight.
Clang-!
Clang-!
Precise strike tried to make their way to vital points on ‘I’s body but they parried them, fully aware of the sword's danger.
They moved throughout the room, stepping in the same place more than twice.
Footsteps overlapped and blades clashed in an endless loop.
Clash after clash, cut after cut.
‘I’ had the slight edge but could never seem to find a good opening before Declan always came back with unexpected twists that always left him wounded, even more than Declan.
“Grrr…”
‘Let me take over. You are all such children, let the adult handle this situation like an adult should.’
It was an arrogant womanly voice.
‘Grrr… Fuck off! This was my chance! You don’t get anything, got it!?’
His somewhat polite and eloquent speech had collapsed.
‘...’
The other voices who were arguing also fell silent.
‘You think you’re so great… Yet we all want to be people!? Do we not!? Let this wretched child die in place for our freedom.’
The table quietly listened to his speech filled with lunacy yet this was the best they had.
‘Ha… HAHAHA!!! Good. Let me handle this.’
Declan watched as the body showed its canine teeth that drooled.
Eyes sporadically moved around trying to find a point of interest for its next meal.
‘I guess humans in the end are also animals.’
He was calm, there wasn’t a need to be afraid. He had made far too many mistakes to be afraid after all…
‘I’ swiped at him with their hand shaped like a claw.
Clang-!
‘It chipped?’
Declan’s eyes widened at the sudden boost in strength. His sword was forcefully pulled out the way before another claw made way to his throat.
Woosh-!
‘I won-’
‘I’s face flushed in excitement at his soon victory. But, he declared victory too early.
Psskk-
The hand shaped into a drill ended its travel into Declan’s hand.
“H-Hah…”
There would be a permanent hole in his hand. Blood dripped like a leaky faucet onto his opponent and onto himself.
Declan’s bloody hand gripped itself onto their hand before slamming his head onto their head.
Bang-!
Only a second had passed and within that second in that tiny fraction of a moment, he was distracted.
‘I’ stumbled backwards. It was only a little disorienting but it was enough for them to back up in order for them to protect themselves.
From the heavy damage inflicted, Declan knew he was going to die in this fight.
The ‘man’ in front of him had enough strength to make a hole in his body, if that wasn’t enough proof then he didn’t know what else.
Flick-
Declan opened his lighter and set ablaze the end of his cigarette.
“You dare mock me!?”
Excessive twitching and a wrath that was no longer by the irises of his eyes.
‘A mere animal in humans’ skin.’
Declan merely smiled at the ‘loud noise’ and continued to smoke while watching ‘I’ getting his bearings back.
“You done, runt?”
Declan stomped out his cigarette butt out on the ground, ‘I’ was more furious than ever.
‘This is dangerous…’
He was walking a fine line between death and life. He had been using every attack he had practiced except for the final attacks that Knights use to sacrifice themselves to kill their opponent but nothing worked.
‘All is nothing before absolute strength…’
A quote came into Declan's head, it fit his situation a bit too much in his opinion. Absolute power, something that all people wanted and vied for. Petty tricks in the end will fall through and the chances of winning are slim to none. His options were running out.
“Hahaha!!! You are truly interesting, Knight! To think there would be a day where I am a mere puppet in someone else’s hands…! But… I think I’ve had my fun, you can come out now, Blackie.”
A quick erratic head twitch.
“...Why does he call me that I wonder?”
Crack-!
Crack-!
“Haaa…” It was a long sigh of relief.
‘Well… This is quite a bad situation… isn’t it?’
The situation went from bad to worse. His only advantage in the whole fight were the fluctuating emotions of his opponent which he had just exploited and planned to use against him. But now? His opponent changed and seemed much more cool headed and calmer than the other.
Tha man clenched their hands and unclenched them repeatedly.
“...Do you know how long we’ve been trapped in this body? The last time we were given freedom?”
“Now why would I want to know that?”
Declan could feel his sweat making its way down his forehead and dropping onto the ground, ‘I’ ignored his words and went on with his speech.
“...It was ten years. We’ve been stuck in this pathetic bastard's body for ten whole years… Why create us if he was merely going to lock us away and be discarded like trash?” They wore a defeated expression, “But… Jack fooled him, gave him hope that he could live his life as if we weren't also a part of him as well. Now here we are, our life in the palm of a madman's hands.”
“We wished for freedom, something that all humans are born with. But for us it’s a privilege.” ‘I’ looked at Declan and continued, “I’m sorry, but you must die for our sakes. We have after all, a life we were meant to have and a revenge against that clown.”
Declan started the fight once more with an overhead swing.
Ting-!
But it was useless. ‘I’ held the sword with utter ease, the sword squirmed in their grasp but the grip was absolute.
‘H-Ha!’ Declan’s smile twitched.
‘I’ let go of the sword and allowed Declan to back up.
“I shall give you an honorable death. Come, Knight of the Round Table, give me your last attack that we wish for.”
‘Do I have no choice?’
Declan thought about using his last resort attack. ‘I’ stood still waiting for his final attack.
“...I don’t deserve an honorable death…” Declan muttered under his voice, “But I’ll take this opportunity!” He smiled brightly.
Steam started coming off his body rapidly, as if he was trying to make a smokescreen.
“Huu…”
His blood started to boil up, his ‘life’ was burning. Declan realized that he had no hope of winning.
“Here I come!”
His sword gleamed in a radiant light.
Declan made his way to ‘I’ in almost an instant. The sword itself made an illusion, a declaration onto the physical world about the legends and myths that made up the Round Table’s prestige.
“[The Fair Knight’s Slash]”
The image of the Knight of Fair, Gareth, seemed to melt onto Declan’s body like protective armor.
‘Can this kill us?’ ‘I’ wondered as his hand reached to stop the attack.
The sword cut through his hand like butter but the sharpness seemed to lose its edge over time.
“Kuh…!”
Their hand was cleanly cut in half and the sword traveled cutting through their entire arm in half. But in the end, the sword failed to kill its target and ended at their shoulder.
“...”
That attack would have killed them…
“...What absurd strength.” ‘I’ proclaimed.
‘What irony’, Declan thought.
Not allowing Declan to get any time, ‘I’ pierced through his stomach to finish it once and for all.
“Cough!”
Declan’s mouth leaked blood.
But…
“...What are you doing?”
‘I’ looked at the struggles of the dying man as he gripped as hard as he could with his bloody hand that carried his sword.
‘Is he trying to stop us?
‘I’ tried moving their hand out of his stomach, but in protest the stomach seemed to squeeze around their arm. The wall behind them didn’t help but made the situation worse.
‘How annoying, defeated opponents should die peacefully.’
Their other arm was divided in two, thus no help could be given.
Shing-
‘A knife?’
‘I’ finally felt a sense of danger. In a position where their arm would barely budge and their strength drained along with their mental fortitude, it was a precarious situation to be in.
Declan stabbed ‘I’ in the stomach with all his strength.
‘You little-!’
‘I’ kicked the man in the legs, but most of the damage was avoided simply due to how close the two were to each other.
Once. Twice. Thrice…
Declan lost track of time of his final attempt to bring down the monster that plagued England and the English isles for so long.
“I’ll kill you!”
Awakening from his surreal state, Declan found that more than half of the man’s stomach had been carved out with his muscles and organs completely destroyed by his constant attacks.
His arms were numb, his body was numb but the job wasn’t yet finished.
“You monster.” Declan said, ‘I’s face only a few inches away from him.
‘You failed Blackie.’
‘I’ or rather ‘Blackie’ heard the others' voices. Was it regret? No… Rather it was acceptance, something all personalities eventually came to after being trapped for so long.
They remembered when they were first made, mere imaginary friends to a lonely child that wanted companionship.
*
*
*
“Where’s my money!?”
Cruel.
“How should I know!?”
The two people in the light argued, like always. Don’t they ever get tired of screaming till their lungs give out?
Dirt, trash, bugs…
‘Am… I a mistake…?’
There was nothing except his own mind to keep himself company.
‘Come here…’ A voice called out to him.
He lost himself in his daydreams that wanted a better future, one filled with friends and a happy family.
Tens, perhaps hundred different friends…
…
The dream came to an end, and reality came forth once more.
An immobile body that slowly bleeds to death. A body cursed.
‘Cold.’
‘So… cold…’
‘Mama? Papa?’
‘...’
*
*
*
The slums.
No matter which country, some more some less, always had the poorest of poor and the richest of rich.
Get beat up day in day out. Fight to survive.
There was no other way to survive in a cruel world where the strong prey on the weak.
Gangs with weapons ruled and the government sometimes tried but to no avail.
‘Haa…’
There he was, a mere child growing up on the streets trying to fight for his life. The fight ended and there he was, beaten once more and things stolen.
‘I feel like a mistake…’
He clearly remembered his thoughts this particular day, one where he felt in the utter lows. It seemed to take an eternity before the child got up and started walking… Just when he thought the child would walk through him, he stopped right in front of himself.
…
“...Do you regret it?” The beaten child asked, their eyes staring right into the adult.
“My life?”
“Yes, do you regret it?”
…
Declan looked through his memories, were there any regrets in his life? Many. But in this current moment those were miniscule that didn’t seem all that important.
“...No, I don’t think I regret my life…”
The beaten child smiled, the illusion came to an end.
“A… Ahhhhhh!!!”
‘How loud.’ Declan thought.
“...Quiet down…”
~~~~
I lied.
My updates are shit, but… it should go back to normal? (At this point I don’t even know…)
But I might have to change it to a bit later, but maybe not. Since I don’t edit any of my chapters I just upload them as soon as I finish, I’m actually editing now so it might take more time.
Also, how were the slight backgrounds? Hope they weren't cringy to read.
Eh whatever let's end it off in a fun note shall we? All hail Futaba, the white haired drill loli / fake cultivator!
(Also, I’m pretty sure this chapter marks the 100k word mark… Wow, lol)
