AN: Please enjoy this adaptation of Chivalry of a Failed Knight.
I do not own Chivalry of a Failed Knight.
Chapter 1: Spirits of the Past
An explosion shattered the brick wall behind Ikki Kurogane as he ran through the underground escape tunnel. As pieces of brick and mortar showering his body, he twisted around, wielding Intetsu to deflect the larger fragments hurling towards him and the rest of the retreating group. Ahead of him, his sister Shizuku lowered herself against the wall, curling her body around the infant girl in her arms. Shizuku's husband, Rin, threw himself on top of his wife, shielding her body.
Black-hooded figures burst through the opening and charged towards their prey. Blazers, with long range devices, launched aerial attacks towards the family, providing cover as melee blazers closed the gap. It was an effective strategy that would make it impossible for Ikki to stop them all. The normally calm Ikki felt panic begin to overcome him.
Fireballs flew over his head from behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his wife, Stella, emerging from the dark hallway as she raced back from her position at the front of the group. Her noble art, Broken Arrow, intercepting the first volley of ranged attacks. Passing Shizuku and Rin, Stella called out to them.
"Shizuku, you and Rin take Hikari and get out of here."
Shizuku wanted to object to the request, but Stella was already beside Ikki clashing swords against the attacking forces. Taking one last look at Ikki and Stella, Shizuku cradled the child tight against her chest and turned to run up the tunnel. Somewhere behind her, she heard her brother call forth his noble art.
"Ittou Shura!"
The situation was dire, indeed.
Exiting the tunnel, Shizuku's foot pulled out of her one of her high heels as it sank into the mud. Robotically, she turned to look for it in the dark. Following her out of the tunnel, her husband grabbed her and pulled her away, leaving the other shoe stuck as well.
"Leave, them!" he shouted.
Shizuku's movements were already being hampered by her long evening gown. Having no shoes would not make things any better, he thought.
Whoever these attackers were, their plan to attack during the formal party was certainly a brilliant move. The guests were totally unprepared and disorganized when the attack began. All we could do now is get to the boats waiting at the river bank.
Rin's inner musings were cut short by a blast that threw him to the ground. Head aching and ears ringing, he tried to shake away the groggy sensation flooding his mind. The muscles in his body screamed their objection as he rolled over onto his stomach on the cold wet ground.
Looking up, he was relieved to see Shizuku was unharmed. To his left, he could see a small band of attackers that had apparently been waiting in ambush. Forcing himself off the ground and rushing towards the attackers, he yelled out to his wife.
"Shizuku, get to the boats!"
Watching in horror, she saw her husband throw himself at the attackers. Fear and desperation swept over her as she cradled Hikari tight against her chest and raced for the boats. The sounds of battle diminishing behind her.
Five Years Later…
The young girl collapsed to the ground. Exhausted and out of breath, she wiped away the sweat that was dripping into her eyes. Looking up, she saw a wooden practice sword pointed at her head. Adjusting her focus past the tip of the sword, the she saw the petite form of a woman staring back at her. She met the eyes of her mother, staring out from under the silver bangs hanging in front of her face. For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of sorrow, but it was quickly replaced with a soft, gentle smile.
"That's enough for today, Kumiko," her mom said, stepping back a few paces. "Put away your gear and wash up for breakfast."
The young girl rose to her feet and gave a slight bow.
"Yes, mother."
After drying off from her shower, she began dressing for the day. Pulling on her shirt and pants, Kumiko's mind wandered back to her birthday 6 months ago. Her mother had given her a kendo practice set. After unwrapping the set, her confused look was met with a chuckle from her mother.
"It's time you started learning our family sword skills," her mother said.
She remembered thinking that her mother's small frame and docile persona stood at odds with what one would imagine from the wielder of a sword. Never once had her mother displayed a behavior that could even remotely be considered aggressive. If anything, it always appeared that her mother was attempting to hide a deep sadness.
Everything about their lives was simple, peaceful, even boring. They lived in small, one-story house, a short distance outside a remote town in the mountains. Her mother worked as a school teacher in the local primary school that she attended. They had very little in the way of belongings, not even a car. On school days, her and her mother would both ride the bus into school.
It was also unusual to hear her mother talk about their family. As far as she knew, her father had died in an accident when she was very little, and her grandparents had died before she was born. There were never any other family members, either. It has always been just her and her mother.
The day after her birthday had been quite the surprise. They woke up early and went to the small barn behind the house. It would become their makeshift dojo for practice. Her mother carried a small short sword. She stood off to the side as her mother put on an amazing display of sword skills. It was clearly obvious that her mother was not just skilled, but very skilled with a blade.
The motions started out as simple strikes and slashes. But then, something happened. Her mother's face switched to a picture of fierce determination, the gentle school teacher image nowhere to be found. The tip of the sword became a blur. Faster and faster, her mother swiped, slashed and thrust her sword. It was as if her mother was waging a desperate battle against numerous invisible fighters.
With a final strike, the demonstration was over. Except for a bit of heavy breathing, her mother stood motionless, staring at the tip of her sword. Sweat was on her brow and an intense look of loss was on her face. Kumiko stood in stunned silence. Finally, she broke her mother's trance.
"Wow! Where did you learn how to do that?" she asked.
Blinking away some tears, her mother simply said, "When I was young, like you."
One Year Later…
The clash of wooden swords once again filled the barn behind their house as the young student blocked a swift strike from her instructor's sword. Keeping her face emotionless, the elder woman smiled inwardly. She was impressed with the young girl's ability to pick up sword skills quickly. Although she was still working at an intermediate skill level, the girl was advancing faster than most children her age.
Initially, training was simple, but the child's drive to learn was simply insatiable, training harder and harder to the point of obsession. The instructor realized quickly that her own skills had become rusty. She began practicing alone in the evening to brush up on her abilities. She also found that it had been therapeutic for her to push herself once again.
A sudden shift in her pupil's body drew her out of her nostalgia for the young girl's training. She had to move swiftly to block a strike that appeared to be aimed at her head, only to be surprised that Kumiko's sword changed direction directing its strike at her midsection. She was able to dodge the second strike with ease, but only because it had been a move she was very familiar with herself.
Stepping back a few steps, she gazed in awe. She had just witnessed the girl perform an advanced technique that she had never taught her. It was a combo that she herself had just practiced last night.
"Where did you learn that attack, Kumiko?"
"Well, I've been sneaking out at night to watch your practice sessions," Kumiko replied.
She was stunned.
Did she copy my technique after observing just one session? Perhaps it was time to see if she possesses the ability to use the skill I learned from my brother years ago, Blade Steal.