Marcus…
He didn’t feel like staying behind to watch the fight between Ranni and Terrance North play out and instead left the audience to see get some air.
He didn’t like the look of things.
Moyako was far more powerful than he had originally thought and he could tell that even when she had burned that planet to ashes, she was barely putting in any effort at all. There was no possible way that it could have been the limit to her strength.
She was hiding way more up her sleeves. She had way more in store for him than what he had seen so far and she had even said as much.
He had fought a Goddess and a mountain sized dragon in the same week shortly after he had arrived on this planet and now he was fighting beings who could render entire worlds to ash with a mere flick of their finger…?
This was too much for him.
He had hoped that coming to this world would mean that he and Thalia would be safe from the stresses of the criminal underworld coming after them, but now, not only does he have to deal with that in the form of Julian hunting him down, he now has to deal with gods and beasts from myths and legends who all want a piece of him.
“Hey!” he heard a voice call out to him.
Marcus raised his head to watch as Ruvick approached him, waiving his hand to him in greeting.
Marcus nodded back at him.
“You don’t look so good,” he commented.
“I’m fine,” Marcus lied as he tried to maintain his composure.
“No, you’re not. You’re lying. What’s going on?”
Marcus sighed before he answered, “You told me that if I wanted answers, the answers that you swore you would give me, that I would have to win the tournament, right? Well, I also made an oath to Moyako that if she defeated me in battle that I would help her find a way back to Terra even if there is no known way to return.”
“Right…, so what is the problem?” Ruvick asked.
Marcus was stunned to hear his nonchalant response and said, “What is the problem? I just watched her nuke a planet to ashes and you expect me to fight on even terms with that?”
Hearing that, Ruvick simply laughed and said, “That’s what you’re worried about? That’s not even the worst thing you need to be concerned with. I don’t know how familiar you are with Nøkkra but she wasn’t called the Goddess of Fated Starlight for no reason. According to those who believe in the stories of Nøkkra, fate is a force that dictates order and causality throughout history. They also believe that by charting the stars and constellations in the sky, one could understand how fate will unfold or even manipulate fate to their will. The Nøkkran Assassins, all of them, can manipulate fate to their will and even sever other people’s fates from history. Legendary heroes who were destined to stop great evils in the coming future? Many of them were killed by such assassins who could manipulate fate and that manipulation can come in many different forms. Whether its looking moments into the future to see what actions an enemy would take in a fight against you, to forcing the probability of events unfolding around you to act in your favor, or even forcing a fate into action without understanding how it will come about, only knowing that it is set in stone to happen. Moyako herself, is extremely proficient at manipulating fate to her advantage.”
Marcus looked at Ruvick with a flabbergasted expression for a moment before asking, “And you never thought to tell me any of this beforehand? What the fuck?!”
Ruvick gave him a slightly offended expression before holding up a hand and said, “Language, please… You haven’t fought her yet, and the both of you are placed at the very ends of the tournament brackets in such a way so that if either of you make it through each fight like you are supposed to, then you will have been more than prepared enough to fight her on equal terms. This is the perfect time for you to gain some information on how you can fight against her without her fate manipulation getting the better of you.”
“How the hell am I supposed to fight against something like that?”
“Well, you remember how I said that the red lightning that you manifest is capable of breaking through dimensional barriers?” Ruvick asked.
Marcus nodded.
“Think of the manipulation of fate as a way of manipulating the sixth dimension. Artemis sort of does the same thing but what she does is a bit more...apocalyptic. I’m sure you’ll find out eventually. Either way, if you understand fate manipulation as similar to manipulating the sixth dimension, then I believe you might be able to negate its effects on you through the manifestation of the red lightning.”
“Okay then...Is that all that I should be aware of regarding her, or is there something else?”
“There is but the manipulation of fate is the main thing to be worried about so, aside from that, all you will have to be concerned about is her exceptional swordsmanship and the utility of her flames. I can’t really say that I know all of the secrets of her magic as she keeps them close to her chest.”
“Even with that in mind, how am I supposed to contend with her overwhelming strength? Just based off what I’ve seen so far, I’m not nearly as powerful as she is,” he said.
“Don’t worry too much about it. There are ways of contending with her strength than just raw power alone. I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Ruvick said.
“You’re not going to give me any hints are you?”
“No. At least, not until you’ve made it past the first three battles. If by then, you haven’t figured out a solution, then I’ll help you out. Until then, you’re on your own,” his eyes then flicked out to the arena and he groaned in annoyance as he said, “Looks like we missed the last two fights. Let’s go see who’s next, shall we?”
Nashandra…
Unlike many of the other contestants who had entered into the contest, she did not wear any fancy armor, nor carry any powerful weapons, or even hold any magical artifacts with her.
The only thing that she took onto the arena floor was the light blue blouse and yellow skirt that Jonas had bought for her when he was still alive. It wasn’t the only outfit that he had bought for her, but it was the one that she wore most often when around him and she felt a great attachment to it.
She didn’t want to separate herself from what he had given her for too long which is why she would wash it multiple times a weak, if not to hold it close to her while she thought of him.
It was the only form of mourning that she was allowed ever since he died. Kayron would not leave her to grieve over him in peace and demanded that she do his bidding once again.
She cursed him for getting his hands on the Bloodletter.
If not for that damnable sword then she would not be forcibly compelled to fight his battles for him.
That sword, which had once taken an even grander form when wielded by her great king Dagon, was now only a small fraction of its former greatness. To make matters worse, it lie in the hands of that insipid little shit with delusions of grandeur. Lying in the hands of a man who wishes to commit pantheonic genocide was a sword that could do so much more than control people like puppets. It was not meant for such weak minded men like him.
If not for that sword, her blood, and by extension her body as well, would not be subjected to his control.
When he had found her, as she had been sleeping in a coffin while cradling the Bloodletter for many millennia, he had placed a blood seal on her body that allowed him to bend her to his will and caused her great agony if she tried to remove it herself.
Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, she only hoped that after she had finished decimating all of the contestants in the tournament that he would leave her alone.
As she was walking onto the arena floor, the person who met her gaze was someone who looked very familiar to her.
The woman in front of her was a Valkyrie from Brunhildt. Not just any Valkyrie, but Geirolul, the current captain of their ‘oh so righteous’ ranks.
Nashandra knew this woman, from well over ten thousand years ago. It was during the siege of Anenvoht, the capital city of Amaskia.
The Wolf King Lycaon followed by his armies, paired with Athena and her Valkyries stormed Anenvoht alongside the Dark Champion whose name was never recovered throughout history as it was lost to time.
Serving right at Athena’s side was the ever proud Geirolul. A Valkyrie warrior who has boasted service to Brunhildt for an extraordinary ten thousand years. It would normally be impossible to comprehend how many battles, how many life times that she had to endure over the ages, and yet she continued to serve undaunted. Regardless of which queen she served under and how much cruelty or wisdom came from the kingdom’s ruler, Brunhildt was her true master.
Geirolul stood tall with a spear in her hand, not one that she recognized, but still powerful in its own right. She had blonde hair that matched Nashandra’s own with a laurel of leaves crafted out of solid gold resting atop her head and gray eyes that shone with determination.
Her armor was light as she only wore silver arm and leg braces bound by leather straps, a light golden chest plate perfectly fitted to her body, and a battle skirt. Worn underneath her chest plate was a silk white blouse.
Upon laying eyes on her, Geirolul scowled at Nashandra as if offended to see her.
“What is a dainty and frail person such as yourself doing on the arena floor? Where is my opponent?” she demanded in angered disbelief.
Nashandra smiled politely as she answered, “I apologize, but I am in fact, the opponent that you will be facing today.”
Geirolul scoffed as she said, “Absurd. You do not look as if you have fought a day in your life. Surrender now, so that I will not humiliate you so in front of all these people who came to watch a spectacle.”
A slight chuckle left Nashandra’s mouth for a moment and Geirolul’s nostrils flared.
“Do you find my warning amusing?!”
Nashandra gave her another kindly smile as she said, “Oh not at all. I am grateful for it, and under normal circumstances, I would be happy to surrender...but unfortunately, I am not in any position to do so at this time. I must thoroughly eviscerate you without mercy since it is what I have been ordered to do.”
Geirolul now had a look of confusion on her face as she turned her head and asked, “Ordered…? Who are you to be speaking me in such a manner that you claim to have been ordered to defeat me?”
“You have...forgotten me? Oh dear Geirolul, in the last ten thousand years that you have served Brunhildt, don’t tell me that now you hear my name, you cannot remember who I am. I am Nashandra,” she said to her, and Geirolul still did not understand.
With that declaration of who she was, the announcer called the start of the fourth match, yet neither of them made a move towards the other.
Geirolul still wanted answers and Nashandra was polite enough to grant them.
“Nashandra…? I should...I should remember you. Your name is tickling the deepest parts of my mind and yet...I cannot seem to fully remember who you are,” she said truthfully.
“Ahh...I see. While I was sleeping for so long, you were busy serving the kingdom that you had pledged your allegiance to so valiantly… Then I will remind you fully, of who I am,” Nashandra said, maintaining her pleasant demeanor as she released the limitations on her soul.
“Release Chasmic Seal 1 and 2 of Osteov Basileia [Bone Empress]” she said, and as the words left her mouth, Geirolul’s eyes widened in sudden fear of her and she took several steps back in horror.
From Nashandra’s skin, a thick black sap oozed out of her pores and began to solidify into deathroot as it threaded itself around her body. It wrapped around her as if like a second skin. From beneath the black sap and death root that covered her, bones ground outside of her body and covered her from head to toe. Her arms, her hands, her legs and her chest all the way up her spine and reaching up her neck.
Nashandra waved her right hand through the air and straitened out her arm as a long, thin, sharp bone poked out of the palm of her hand and continued to grow until it took on the shape of a simple straight sabre.
In her left hand, she held an almost completely featureless bone mask that had only two eye slits for her to see out of and horns that curved back inwardly.
Looking upon her terrifying form, Geirolul shook with fear.
“Oh Goddess Athena…, you are…,” she tried to say.
“No. I am not your God. I am Nashandra,” she said as she placed the mask upon her face, which made her voice sound ethereal and haunting as she continued, “I am the one who killed your god.”