06-07-2017, 06:32 PM
Joric was walking out front with Takezo following behind. They had left the corpses and Joric’s weapon near the fountain for someone else to deal with. Takezo was more than used to a battlefield of the dead, rotting under the hot sun. The rotund fellow in front of him had wanted to bring them along, to bury them. Takezo denied – he could care less about his fallen enemies.
They had chosen a direction based on Joric’s minimal intel. Takezo acknowledged this was most likely a trap. Joric would undoubtedly lead him to the gang he was a part of, at which time he would have to fight again. That was fine. He would kill or be killed – the law of nature. The only difference is, while he was immortal, they were not. This was an interesting fact to Takezo. He truly had become immortal under the heavens.
“How much farther?” Takezo grumbled. The blank white of the nexus was getting under his skin. The featureless world was much better when it was painted with bodies and blood, but he realized now it was only because the blank white slate of a world felt unnatural to him. It was devastatingly pure. It almost felt like he stained the ground by walking upon it. Granted, for a while when they first embarked, he did… leaving a single-foot trail of blood off in one direction. His sandal has since dried.
“Another… twenty minutes, I think. Look, we’re almost at the gate. Beyond that, Carrefore. I think you’ll like it there…” Joric almost tumbles onto his face when Takezo pushes him from behind. It was a silent way of saying ‘don’t get too chummy.’ He quickly corrected himself, hoping the next thing pressed against his back is not a blade. “What I meant was… it’s a rough town... and if you go further in, it’s nothing but desert and monsters.”
A brow rose. “Monsters?” Slaying monsters might be an excellent way to train. Maybe this Gildarts had done something similar to become known as the strongest Prime.
Joric slowly nods, looking over his shoulders. “After the Empire left, the monsters spread and grew… The desert is full of them. They’re like demons.”
“Would you say these are some of the worst monsters?” Joric immediately nodded. He was about to speak, but Takezo cut him off with another push. “Good. I’ve never fought demons before… I get called one often enough, I’d like to see why.”
A number of times Joric would attempt to continue the conversation, but Takezo was ignoring him. His eyes stare at the gate as they slowly approached. His left hand rested upon the scabbard at his side and he awaited the moment Joric’s gang members would swarm out to greet them. This never happened.
“Tell me. What gate did you and your buddies come from? Should I expect them through here?”
Takezo could see tension spread through the portly man’s body. “We’re from Camelot… It’s a longer walk to Minas Tirith, so… so I chose a closer option.” The swordsman chuckled at the hesitant response.
“Why else?”
“I… didn’t want to run into any of my friends. Some of the guys I don’t care too much for, but when you are in a gang, sometimes you get close, you know?”
“No. I am strong enough that I don’t have to rely on the strength of others.”
Joric looked over his shoulder at Takezo, his brows furrowed. “It’s not weakness, man… Strength in numbers… The Boar-Pit gang is small, but every initiate is told to keep each other alive… We may not be friends, but we’re true warriors. And we’ll be th—“ Joric’s words are abruptly cut, just like the man’s spine. In his rambling, he had not even heard Takezo draw his sword.
The slash across the portly man’s back had been swift as they were deadly. “So what I’m hearing is… if you go back to your friends… they’ll hunt me down for killing the others?” Joric was on the ground, face down. “I guess for my own sake… no one can know about this.
“There can be only one at the top.” And with that, Takezo slashed through the man’s neck, letting his head roll free. With a graceful flick, blood splattered across the white nexus floor. He sheathed his sword, sidestepping the growing pool of blood, and continued towards the gate to the Endless Dunes.
They had chosen a direction based on Joric’s minimal intel. Takezo acknowledged this was most likely a trap. Joric would undoubtedly lead him to the gang he was a part of, at which time he would have to fight again. That was fine. He would kill or be killed – the law of nature. The only difference is, while he was immortal, they were not. This was an interesting fact to Takezo. He truly had become immortal under the heavens.
“How much farther?” Takezo grumbled. The blank white of the nexus was getting under his skin. The featureless world was much better when it was painted with bodies and blood, but he realized now it was only because the blank white slate of a world felt unnatural to him. It was devastatingly pure. It almost felt like he stained the ground by walking upon it. Granted, for a while when they first embarked, he did… leaving a single-foot trail of blood off in one direction. His sandal has since dried.
“Another… twenty minutes, I think. Look, we’re almost at the gate. Beyond that, Carrefore. I think you’ll like it there…” Joric almost tumbles onto his face when Takezo pushes him from behind. It was a silent way of saying ‘don’t get too chummy.’ He quickly corrected himself, hoping the next thing pressed against his back is not a blade. “What I meant was… it’s a rough town... and if you go further in, it’s nothing but desert and monsters.”
A brow rose. “Monsters?” Slaying monsters might be an excellent way to train. Maybe this Gildarts had done something similar to become known as the strongest Prime.
Joric slowly nods, looking over his shoulders. “After the Empire left, the monsters spread and grew… The desert is full of them. They’re like demons.”
“Would you say these are some of the worst monsters?” Joric immediately nodded. He was about to speak, but Takezo cut him off with another push. “Good. I’ve never fought demons before… I get called one often enough, I’d like to see why.”
A number of times Joric would attempt to continue the conversation, but Takezo was ignoring him. His eyes stare at the gate as they slowly approached. His left hand rested upon the scabbard at his side and he awaited the moment Joric’s gang members would swarm out to greet them. This never happened.
“Tell me. What gate did you and your buddies come from? Should I expect them through here?”
Takezo could see tension spread through the portly man’s body. “We’re from Camelot… It’s a longer walk to Minas Tirith, so… so I chose a closer option.” The swordsman chuckled at the hesitant response.
“Why else?”
“I… didn’t want to run into any of my friends. Some of the guys I don’t care too much for, but when you are in a gang, sometimes you get close, you know?”
“No. I am strong enough that I don’t have to rely on the strength of others.”
Joric looked over his shoulder at Takezo, his brows furrowed. “It’s not weakness, man… Strength in numbers… The Boar-Pit gang is small, but every initiate is told to keep each other alive… We may not be friends, but we’re true warriors. And we’ll be th—“ Joric’s words are abruptly cut, just like the man’s spine. In his rambling, he had not even heard Takezo draw his sword.
The slash across the portly man’s back had been swift as they were deadly. “So what I’m hearing is… if you go back to your friends… they’ll hunt me down for killing the others?” Joric was on the ground, face down. “I guess for my own sake… no one can know about this.
“There can be only one at the top.” And with that, Takezo slashed through the man’s neck, letting his head roll free. With a graceful flick, blood splattered across the white nexus floor. He sheathed his sword, sidestepping the growing pool of blood, and continued towards the gate to the Endless Dunes.