Hi guys, Noble Scotsman here with a new story. I've been wanting to write this one for a while, and I may be coordinating releases with UNSC Spirit of Fire, so we'll have to see what direction the story takes, but so far I'm really happy with it.
Anyways, without further ado, please enjoy the story!
Prologue
The night was black as the two figures rode on, the waves of darkness cresting above them as the full moon waned. Still, the figures rode on through the blackened sea, carried through by their snow-white horses, the path lit by the light of desperation. The medieval countryside around them was their own country, but it was far from friendly territory – especially after their most recent mission. Now, fearing for their own lives, the two figures streamed across the land, heading for what they believed could protect them.
As they crested another hill, the lead figure reigned-in his horse, its whinny carrying across the silent valley as they gazed upon their sanctuary. Sweeping aside his cloak to reveal the plate armor underneath, the man pointed at the castle, the three walls which protected it standing stoically against the night. His wrist gleamed as the moonlight struck it, revealing the white bracelet that he wore and his true identity.
Kämpfer.
"My lord!" the man cried as the second figure reigned-in alongside him. "Surely we will be safe once we reach the shadow of the citadel – let us make haste."
The person he was addressing, an elderly knight typical of the age, bowed his head in response and touched his wrist, upon which another white bracelet was found. "The Moderators would disprove of our running from a fight… But surely they would be lenient for the information we have gleaned tonight. We must inform them of this development. They will know how to respond."
"Hya!" the younger figure said, snapping his reigns and shooting off into the darkness, closely followed by his elder. They had to make it; they had to. But still, to think that they, the emissaries of the Moderators themselves, would be so casually outmatched… it was unthinkable.
Since the beginning of the feudal system, they, the White Knights, had been the literal embodiments of the Moderators' divine will on Earth, and wielded enormous power over their primitive European counterparts. They were not of this world, though, and somewhere far away two worlds were at war – threatening to destroy each other in their bloodlust. The Moderators, unwilling to see two worlds destroyed, made a magnanimous decision, which had been accepted on all sides. On Earth, humans, if they had the right skills, would be singled-out and given power and a color, either red or blue. Then, immediately, another kämpfer of the opposite color would be created nearby, or drawn to them. These kämpfers, as those first selected called themselves, would be forced to kill and eliminate the kämpfers of the opposite color, mimicking the war between the two worlds and providing both entertainment and a way to settle the dispute without the loss of a world. To this end, the kämpfers were granted powers beyond normal humans, at a price, though; each fighter would become female if they were not already, so as to be able to fight better.
No heavenly body remembers why this change to the kämpfers' physical appearance was implemented, perhaps it had simply been for entertainment more than usefulness, but, regardless, all sides had come to respect the viciousness and capability exampled by prior kämpfers as they fought each other. There were never many kämpfers at any one point, due to being killed before another person with the right gifts could be changed into one to aid them further, but the fighting was as fierce as ever.
The White Knights, the white kämpfers, were set to watch over the bloodied proceedings on Earth and keep the system the way it was designed; red vs blue. Any dissent was to be dealt with swiftly and without exception, and amenable relationships between the two factions were to remain non-existent as the hatred grew between the two colors. Alliances were deemed impossible – the hatred was too strong by now – but, occasionally, one would be agreed to.
Naturally, the white kämpfers were dispatched to deal with them, as on this occasion. The elimination of the two was simple, the white kämpfers' power far bypassing that of mere humans', but it was what had come after that had forced the two enforcers into this headlong retreat to their sanctuary.
As he remembered this, the elder knight urged his steed to greater speeds, bypassing his younger escort with ease. "Faster, Arthur!"
"Yes, my lord!" the youth replied, eyes wide with fear.
The two horsemen emerged from the forest at breakneck speeds, covering the remaining ground with renewed vigor as they came within sight of the walls. It was the final stretch – they had made it.
The youth visibly relaxed, and his elder heard him cry out in surprised as the sound of something dropping reached his ears. The boy had dropped his saddlebag on the road behind him, and he jumped off of his horse, running to retrieve it, unaware of the danger.
"No! You fool!" the elder cried, desperately urging his horse towards the youth. The back of his neck prickled suddenly, and he dived from the saddle as he passed the boy, rolling together with him into a ditch on the side of the road. Glancing up from their position on the ground, he saw their horses dissolve into a plume of darkness, melting away until there was nothing remaining. The two knights got shakily to their feet, struggling as all knights do with their heavy armor, and stepped into the road.
"What do we do, my lord?" the boy asked, his eyes wide.
"We fight…" his elder answered, his voice hard. The boy nodded, and the two disappeared in a shower of light. When the light cleared, two women, wearing the plate armor easily, stood confidently in the center of the dirt highway. The elder held a greatsword, which she embedded in the ground in front of her, and crossed her arms, peering into the night. "Arthur, give us some light…" she said, frowning. The youth smirked, summoning a ball of fire, and tossed it into the air, where it burst like an umbrella, hanging suspended over their heads and lighting up the countryside. Hopefully it would also draw the attention of their allies.
"Show yourself!" the elder demanded, her voice resonating with confidence. "You know not our might; it would be foolish to oppose us!"
"Aye!" the youth cheered, raising her fist triumphantly.
You dare presume to threaten me, kämpfer?
The two knights froze as the voice washed over them, feeling its power rather than hearing it. It was a cold voice, one dripping with malice and untapped power, and all confidence fled before its tender onslaught. It was like the dark waters of death itself, spreading, nulling, quieting. As it washed over the two kämpfers, they felt horrible, and the darkness seemed to press in on them, as though knowing of their corruption. The night was clear, but they gasped for breath.
"Who…who are you…?" the elder breathed, terrified.
A figure stepped out of seemingly nothing, materializing from the darkness itself. He was tall, and even several feet away, he loomed over them. His hair was black as the night, and his skin was as pale as a full moon, seeming to drink in the moonlight instead of reflect it. Lastly, his eyes, a deep crimson, stared menacingly through its victims, as though evaluating their worth, and assuring them of his dominance. He walked closer, speaking again, though the fury in his voice had not dissipated.
Who…am I. I am known by many names and ranked prominently among your 'gods', the Moderators of The System. He stopped, looking into the terrified white kämpfers' eyes, and spoke again, every word laced with immeasurable power. I am known as the Nightwalker, the Lord of Gloom, the Ravager, and the Raven of the Hunt. I embody the destructive power of 'god', of your beloved Moderators themselves, for I was once among them. Your system here displeases me, so I shall eradicate it and bring The System to its knees; I will destroy a world, if I need to, and forge a new world from its ashes. You and your masters' unchecked spread across this planet has been without opposition, but I shall see to its end.
"The M-Moderators will definitely stop you!" Arthur cried defiantly, and the man turned his gaze once more to her. He seemed to consider the youth's statement for a moment before making an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
Let them come. The entire pantheon of their greatest cannot defeat me, legions of their finest have fallen already attempting to prevent my departure, but no longer.
"You will be defeated. I swear on it," the elder said, drawing her greatsword. "If not by us, then by those after us. The Moderators' will is absolute."
Only I am absolute.
"The system is too far entrenched to be uprooted at this point…it's pointless…" the elder countered, leveling her sword at the former Moderator. "Come, Arthur, we shall defeat this heretic."
The man smiled, and a gilded staff appeared in his hands. Twirling it, he slammed it into the ground, where its point stayed, quivering from the force. Black energy entwined itself around his arms, and he levitated slightly in the air, his hair billowing despite the calm of the night.
I shall make your end quick, puppet.
The two kämpfers jumped at him, their speed and power incredible, and the man closed, his scarlet eyes amused as he clashed with the two warriors.
Violet flashed as the sunlight struck an eye that was only half-open, causing it to blink as it refocused, adjusting to the change in lighting. Sighing in slight annoyance, its owner sat upright, brushing aside hotel stationary as he glanced at the clock. It was five thirty-two.
2014.
Brushing the long, dark bangs out of his eyes, he walked over to the head-to-foot window and opened the sliding door, stepping out onto the cool hotel porch. He was on the fifth floor, high above the houses of residents in this desert city, and his landscape view of the early Arizonan sunrise was undisturbed by the hustle and bustle of early-morning Phoenix. He leaned against the railing, feeling the cool breeze sweep through his hair, and surveyed the buildings which made up the desert jewel of the American Southwest through jaded eyes.
He had been dreaming about then again.
He sighed, his violet eyes following the sun as it spread across the darkened city. He had come to this place for one reason – to destroy the last of the white kämpfer influence in the mainland Americas. After that…
He swung his head to the west, unable to see the distant horizon because of the building. After he had finished here, he would move on to Asia, starting with Japan.
It had been over a thousand years since his arrival on Earth, and the curse the elderly white kämpfer had placed upon him still held its truth. The System was still in place, red and blue kämpfers continued to die in the gladiatorial games of another world, and despite all of his work, humans still remained shackled to the Moderators' will.
He had no qualms about killing white kämpfers, since they were the divine essence of the Moderators and not an actual living being, but because of that they keep re-animating every couple decades, with the Moderators' help, they never ceased to cause him trouble. It was all he could do to wipe them out of an area, make peace between the red and blue kämpfers, and move on to the next area to repeat. Indeed, he had slowed the expansion of the kämpfers, forcing the Moderators to choose wisely where they would hold their gladiatorial games, but it was a process that failed to produce any long-term results, after all.
He had filled his free time with studies about Earth and its culture from age to age, but in all his research he found nothing to aid in his quest, nor in the return of kämpfers to their original forms.
He didn't need to go looking for them, they would always attack him regardless of where he was in the world. He had become tired, and taken up some material pleasures to fill his days, looking for a purpose once again.
He would have to find a solution.
Until that time comes, though…
He had work to do.
So, how was it? I'd really like to get some feedback and reviews (review please!). For those who don't know a lot about the Moderators or kämpfers in general, I tried to explain the situation and how it affects people as well as provide some background for one of my OCs (Original Characters). This made the chapter take a slightly more serious tone, but I plan to stick with the lighthearted tone of the anime if I can hereafter.
Secondly, I really like the anime and manga of Kämpfer. For all intents and purposes, though, this story will take place around the time after the show has ended. I will also definitely be writing from the perspective of characters from the show, though it will be limited to "Red Team". UNSC Spirit of Fire shall be handling the perspective of "Blue Team", so be sure to check out his story once he has it posted.
As always, I will attempt to write at least 2'000 words per chapter - so please look forward to that.
I really look forward to writing this story; chapter 1 should be out soon!
