by Ryan Kirk
The charge began, and Nameless watched as the clans and the troops of the Kingdom met. His experienced eye took in the sight, and he worried as Akira and his army penetrated deep into the Azarian lines. He watched Akira carefully and was about to wade through the battle towards him when he sensed something else, a feeling which left him cold inside. The power was incredible, and at this distance, there was no mistaking who it would be.
A few moments later Nameless was approached by one of his demon-kind. He came bearing dreaded news. “There is another force to the west. There are only a few hundred, but each of them is dressed in black robes.”
For a few moments, Nameless couldn’t even understand. It was too unlikely, too impossible. Renzo had told them there was no way the nightblades would ever leave their island. Was it a ruse? That would be the most logical conclusion, but his gut told him it was real. Either way, Nameless couldn’t take the risk. He had left the demon-kind in reserve for just such an event.
“Give the command to all the demon-kind. Attack to the west.”
Nameless worried. If the messenger was right, and these were nightblades, they outnumbered the demon-kind. He looked back to the battlefield, his heart torn. He could still see Akira’s armor, cutting through the clans with remarkable ease. It would be good to kill him, but Nameless wasn’t certain he had the time. He knew the boy was here, and if the boy was about, so was the woman. Akira was dangerous, but the two nightblades were the most immediate threat. They were also the people he most wanted to kill.
With a shout, Nameless turned from one battlefield for another. It was time to finish this once and for all.
The hunters met them on the fields to the southwest of the Gathering. Ryuu hadn’t expected anything else. There were fewer hunters than nightblades, but Ryuu only found a small amount of comfort in that. He suspected the hunters were individually stronger than they were. It would be a close fight.
The battle was much smaller than the one happening almost a league to the east, but it was no less violent. Every person on the field was an expert, and their swords thirsted for blood. The nightblades never stopped their charge. They rode straight into the mass of hunters, steel pressing against steel.
As soon as they approached, Ryuu reached out and allowed the energy of the world to course through his body. It was becoming easier every time, and there was so much energy to draw on. Ryuu’s muscles screamed with desire to attack his opponents as the energy flooded his body. Two hunters fell underneath his blade, taken by surprise in the sheer speed of his attacks. Ryuu’s horse was cut down underneath him, but he leapt from the stallion and rolled smoothly away. He was better on his feet anyway, more connected to the ground beneath him.
Ryuu found his next opponent and lost himself in combat. The sun continued its relentless march across the sky.
Time didn’t flow the same way for Ryuu anymore. His world moved slowly, as though everyone else was struggling to move through water. They were all so weak. Objectively, part of him knew he had been in combat for some time, but it didn’t stop him. The thought of resting never entered his mind. He didn’t feel tired, didn’t feel pain. A part of his mind warned him that when he let this energy go he’d collapse on his face, but it didn’t stop him. The power was intoxicating, and all he wanted was more of it.
Through it all, Moriko was at his side. They made a deadly combination. Ryuu attracted the hunters, and they swarmed around him like angry bees. They could sense him and rushed to attack, but the speed of his defense made him virtually invincible. And they were always surprised by the young woman who danced in front of them without warning, a woman they couldn’t sense coming. Moriko never gave them a chance to learn from their mistakes. Between the two of them, they cut a path of death through the hunters.
The Azarians rode out to meet them, and in the time it took for the two forces to meet, Akira felt as though he had never been more alive. He thought he could see every blade of grass trampled underneath his horse, could smell the sweat and the fear of the man next to him. He felt detached as he saw arrows start to fall around him. There was no fear in his heart. His only concern was to bring vengeance down on his enemies. It was all he could ask for.
His calm was shattered when the two armies clashed, the relative silence of the field broken by the sound of steel clanging against steel, man clashing against man. Akira could hear the screams of horses and men as they were wounded and died, and gradually his attention shrank further and further, until all he cared about was the area within reach of his sword.
He was surrounded by his honor guard, the men who had fought so hard and sacrificed so much over the summer. This battle was what they had hoped for, what they had waited for. It was their chance to strike back in a meaningful way. Akira watched as guard after guard rode through the Azarians like scythes through wheat. Akira sent several Azarians to the Great Cycle himself, each cut a vicious victory over the enemy.
Unfortunately, they didn’t have the momentum to carry themselves all the way through the Azarian lines. Their horses slowed, and as they did, more and more arrows found their mark.
Akira managed keep his mount for several precious moments before an arrow to the neck brought his horse down. Akira rolled from the saddle, coming smoothly to his feet, his blade flashing in the early morning light. He and his men were surrounded by Azarians, and although he took a few minor cuts, the cycles of training he had seen kept him safe. Azarians fell beneath his blade, and he and his honor guard were an island of destruction in the sea of the Azarians.
Although he couldn’t see anything from his position on the battlefield, Akira suspected his honor guard had made it further into the Azarian lines than any other group. They would need to hold their ground until the rest of Akira’s forces could reach them. He found Captain Yung in the commotion and together they ordered the men into a rough circle, maintaining a small safe space for soldiers to take a rest while they could.
For a while, the battle went smoothly for Akira and his guards. They formed a perimeter, with those on the outside being supported by those on the inside. Azarians fell beneath their blades, spears, and arrows, and his men cycled between the outer and inner rings of the perimeter.
Akira took a break from fighting in the outer ring. He took a moment to catch his breath. He tried scanning the battleground, but there was little he could see. His vision was obscured by the battle surrounding him. He scanned the area immediately around him. There was a shout from nearby, and Akira turned to see Yuki, the guard he had been locked up with at Hope, in trouble. Three Azarians were backing him up with spears, and no help was coming.
Akira glanced around and pulled a spear out of one of his men lying dead on the ground. He twirled it so its point was facing the right direction and gave a heave. His aim was true. The spear struck one of the attackers in the chest, knocking him backwards and dead. Akira joined Yuki at the line, his break over. Together, their swords penetrated the defense of the spears. The two remaining Azarians fell, but more were eager to take their place.
As the sun rose high in the sky, the battle started to turn against them. Akira’s group of guards was drawing attention to itself, and the pressure on their perimeter grew. They fell back step by step. Despite the skill of his men, no one could fight off a never-ending stream of opponents forever. One by one, his honor guard fell and they brought their perimeter in a step, continuing to fight almost shoulder to shoulder.
When Yuki died, it happened so fast, Akira barely even noticed it. One moment they were fighting side by side. The next, a spear was lodged in Yuki’s throat, a look of surprise on his face. A memory of Yuki pacing their cell together flashed through Akira’s mind, and he was overcome by rage and grief. He attacked without fear, slaying Yuki’s killer and three other Azarians before finding his way back to the perimeter.
When all hope seemed lost, a force of soldiers from the Kingdom broke through, overwhelming the Azarians surrounding Akira and his honor guard. After a full
morning of combat, there was a sudden break in the fighting. Akira fell to his knees, well past the point of exhaustion. It had taken half the day, but finally his men had caught up with him.
Suddenly Makoto, his giant general, was there at his side. He helped his king to his feet while letting him know what was happening.
"It is a hard fought battle, sir. The Azarians are better fighters, but they are even more disorganized than we are. Most of our volunteer units have been destroyed, but our own soldiers are doing well."
“Are we winning?”
Makoto considered the question for a moment. It didn’t seem like a hard one to Akira, but the general always thought carefully.
“I don’t think so.”
Akira’s heart sank, but Makoto continued.
“This battlefield is very much up for grabs. I don’t know if you saw this, but a few of the clans we were fighting against broke early. So, in a way, we actually outnumbered them for a while. We might still win here. But even if we do, we won’t have any soldiers left. Even if we win, we’ll have nothing left. The hunters are also a problem.”
Akira’s ears perked up. He hadn’t spared much thought for the hunters, but then he realized he hadn’t seen any all day.
"Have we seen any hunters yet?"
Makoto nodded. “Yes, but not nearly as many as I had expected. Also, the ones who are in the battle don’t seem to have any coherent battle strategy. They are deadly wherever they go, but their actions seem very ineffective, especially considering what damage they could do.”
That was good news, at least. "We need to keep pressing our advantage," Akira said.
Makoto nodded, but as he did, shouts of concern reached his ears. He looked up, and Akira wondered what it was he was seeing. His general stood a head above most others on the battlefield.
"The Azarians have organized a counter-attack. They are pressing this way. We should get you to safety.”
Akira sighed. All he wanted was a break. Just to rest and lay down his head for a while, put all the worries of the world behind him. “No, I won’t retreat. We’ve been through a lot, but my honor guard is still one of the strongest units we have here. We’ll hold the center.”
Akira saw his men nodding around him as they listened in. He was so proud to fight by their side. They all knew he was probably sacrificing their lives, but none of them hesitated. He would be honored to die in the company of such men.
He saw the indecision pass over Makoto’s face. Makoto knew Akira was right, but he didn’t want to sacrifice his king. But there was no choice, and they both knew it. “I will see you when this battle is over, sir.”
Akira returned Makoto’s bow as the general gave his orders. Units reformed around them, and Akira and his honor guard took their place in a much larger line. This was going to be the final push.
Ryuu was starting to lose his shadow as the sun rose higher in the sky. Time was meaningless, and he couldn’t guess how many they had killed. All that Ryuu knew was that his blade was coated in the blood of his enemies, but its thirst was unquenchable. He had always been strong, but he had never experienced power like this. His rational mind was overpowered by a primal force inside of him.
Nameless didn’t announce himself when he entered the fray. There was no polite exchange. Ryuu sensed him coming and turned his attention to the leader of the Azarians. He screamed in anticipation. The hunters were too weak. He wanted stronger prey. He wanted to taste Nameless’ blood. Moriko dropped back a few steps. They had planned for this. Her responsibility was to guard him now. Ryuu had to trust Moriko completely if he was to have any chance of defeating Nameless. There was only one opponent that mattered to him.
Their swords met with bone-shattering force. Ryuu took the briefest of instants to size up his opponent. The man was the same as before, but this time, he was driven by even more rage. Ryuu had no problem sensing the strength of the hunter. Each of them was fully consumed by the power they possessed. Had he been given time, Ryuu was sure he would have felt fear, but no time was given. The battle was joined instantly, both men attacking with all their strength.
The two of them danced a duel that would have been legendary if anyone else had the ability to see it. The speed of their cuts was blinding, and Ryuu gave up on his vision completely. Only his gift of the sense gave him the warning he needed to react in time. Their swords crossed and crossed again, but neither could draw blood on the other.
The two of them passed again and again and Ryuu wondered how long the battle would last. He felt nothing, but he suspected Nameless didn’t either. They were two of a kind. Neither was able to gain an advantage over the other. In the back of his mind Ryuu felt Moriko making short work of anyone who got too close to their battle. If this continued, soon it would be just the three of them.
Nameless must have sensed his distraction. Without warning, his speed seemed to increase. Ryuu thought such a speed impossible, that there was no way a man of such size could be so fast, but the reality was right in front of him, trying to kill him. Ryuu found himself on defense, dodging and deflecting the short black blade that seemed to be everywhere at once. He was cut half a dozen times, but there wasn’t any way to retaliate. Ryuu was already moving as fast as he could, and it was all he could do to defend himself. Nameless was incredible.
Nameless made a mistake, a thrust that brought him just the slightest bit off balance. Ryuu didn’t have time to strike with his blade, seeing that Nameless’ blade was already coming back for protection, but he summoned all his energy and leapt forward, driving his elbow hard into the hunter’s chest, knocking him back a few satisfying paces.
The thrill of victory surged through him. He was about to leap and make the killing strike when he saw that Nameless was poised and ready for the attack. It had all been a ruse to get Ryuu to over-commit, and it had almost worked.
The knowledge frightened Ryuu, and he stopped in his tracks. Sweat started to bead down his brow as Nameless stood there, perfectly still. Not only could he not penetrate the hunter’s defenses, he felt like he was being played with.
Without warning, Ryuu lost his grasp on the energy that had been powering his attacks. He collapsed to the ground, falling to his knees. All around him, the battle continued to rage. Moriko was a blur, keeping him safe from other attacks. But she couldn’t hold them back forever, and his most dangerous opponent was still in front of him. And he had no energy left. His body felt as though he had been run over by a whole herd of horses. Nameless looked at him and laughed. He took his stance, and Ryuu knew he was facing his last enemy.
The sun’s heat was fierce for this season. The cold of the early autumn morning had given way to the warmth of a perfect fall day, without a single cloud in the sky. As the forces took a deep breath, Akira looked up and thought about how beautiful the blue sky was compared to the blood-soaked ground beneath him. It had been, he thought, a good life.
He heard the charge of the Azarians and brought his gaze back to the earth. He summoned what strength he had remaining and let out a primal yell, his own men rushing towards battle. The two lines met and bled into one long conflict.
In the midst of the battle, Akira lost all track of time and space. For a while they advanced, and the Azarians fell beneath his blade. At other times, they pushed back, and he would barely be able to keep his feet underneath him as he stumbled backwards over the bodies of his men. The combat raged back and forth. At one point, Akira looked up and was surprised to see the sun was still high in the sky. It seemed as though they had been fighting forever, but almost no time had passed. He was covered in blood, as was his blade, and a fair amount of it seemed to be his.
Whenever he got a moment, Akira looked up and down the line. The fight seemed to be stalled, going back and forth over the same ground again and again. Captain Yung was near him, fighting one handed, an arrow embedded in his left arm. Despite the handicap, the man fought as fiercely as ever.
And then Akira faced an opponent he had hoped
never to meet in person again. He saw the tooth hanging from the leather strap around the man's neck, and knew he faced a hunter. A space cleared around them, other Azarians unwilling to interfere with the hunter. Akira saw Yung and some of his honor guard try to come to his aid, but the Azarians formed a circle around them, cutting Akira off from his men.
Akira took a deep breath. There was only one way forward, and he had no regrets. He had no further attachment to this life, but he would kill this hunter. He made a few tentative strikes, keeping his balance steady and his sword in front of him. There was no way he was going to give the hunter an easy opening.
The hunter deflected the strikes as though he was playing with a child. His sword was smaller and faster than Akira’s, and Akira knew he had little hope of penetrating the hunter’s defense. He had to try though.
The hunter went on the attack, and Akira brought his guard in close, managing just barely to block the hunter’s attack. But it gave him confidence. He had survived a pass with a hunter. There weren’t many who could say as much.
They passed again, and in this exchange, Akira left with a shallow cut on his neck. It wasn’t fatal, but he was only alive by the width of a hair. He tried to think of some way to get inside the hunter’s defense, but nothing came to him. The hunter was too fast.
On the third pass, Akira tried to go on the offense, stepping forward to strike, but the hunter leapt forward with incredible speed, and his short blade sliced easily through Akira’s stomach. Akira didn't feel the cut itself, but he felt his organs trying to escape from the confines of his body. He felt himself going into shock, a comfortable numbness, but in that moment, the hunter turned around, his attention drawn by something off in the distance. Without thought, Akira stabbed out with the last of his strength, his sword piercing the hunter’s back. Akira pulled his blade out and the hunter turned around to face him, a look of surprise on his face. It was the most satisfying sight Akira had ever seen. The hunter collapsed at his feet.