Chapter 10

Mercy and Cruelty

Sophitia leapt as Kratos struck out with his blades. The malevolent weapons struck the ground with earth-shaking power. Two craters were formed under them; had either one of those blades managed to strike her, she would have instantly been killed.

Sophitia had known that Kratos would be perhaps the strongest opponent she would ever face, but she could not believe just how badly outclassed she was. Kratos's weapons afforded him the advantage of distance; his chain blades kept him well out of range of her sword and could effectively lash out with impunity. All Sophitia could do was defend herself as best she could.

Kratos, for his part, felt very strange. Unlike his previous battles, he felt no bloodlust, no fiery hatred fueling him and he had no idea why. This woman was no different than the countless other opponents he had faced. At the moment, Kratos was holding back. He could obliterate her, erase her from existence with a single blow if he so chose.

So why hadn't he?

Kratos ground his teeth in frustration. How could he be feeling this way? He was Kratos, the Ghost of Sparta! He did not show mercy to anyone; all who stood in his path were slaughtered, be they man or woman, monster or god. He tried to shake off the suffocating reluctance, but could not.

For the first time in his life, Kratos had no desire to kill.

That did not, however, mean that he had no desire to defeat her. Kratos was a Spartan, a born and bred fighter. Giving up was not in any Spartan's nature, especially not his. Snapping out his arms, the blades whipped forward towards Sophitia, who threw up her shield to defend herself. Had Kratos actually been trying, that shield would have offered no protection, even if it had been made by a god. As it was, she only received a glancing blow, but even that was sufficient to knock her flat on her back.

Kratos slowly walked over to the woman. "Now you see that you cannot defeat me. Your gods have sent you to your death."

Eyes burning with defiance, Sophitia got back up and said, "Say what you want, but I won't give up!" She lunged at Kratos with all the speed she could muster. Almost casually, Kratos knocked the blow away with his blade and kicked out. Again, with uncharacteristic restraint, Kratos refrained from making it a killing blow. Of course, there was still enough power behind it to send a full-grown man flying.

Surprisingly, Sophitia remained on her feet after taking the hit. It was clear that the kick had given her a good jolt, but she refused to let the pain hinder her. Clenching her sword tightly, Sophitia gritted her teeth and struck out again. Her speed and reaction time, however, had slowed noticeably. Kratos dodged each attack with ease.

Soon, Sophitia was on her last legs. "Gods," she prayed, "grant me the strength to win." Panting, she tried to force her protesting body to keep fighting, but there was little more it could give.

Once more, Kratos knocked her to the ground effortlessly. "This is what happens when you serve gods," he said. "They ply you with honeyed words and tell you that you will reap all the rewards of your servitude, but when you are at your most desperate, they abandon you."

Try as she might, Sophitia knew that Kratos spoke true. The gods, even her patron Hephaestus, did not answer her pleas. It was a truly gut-wrenching feeling, knowing that those whom you had served faithfully and without question suddenly discard you like an unwanted pet.

But Sophitia had a far greater motivation to fight than her service to the gods. Through sheer force of will, she managed to stand back up. "Perhaps the gods have forsaken me, but I do not fight for them. I fight for my children's sake."

Kratos suddenly felt as though a lead weight had dropped into his stomach. "What did you say?" he asked.

"My children," she said, "will never be safe in this world so long as the cursed swords exist and people like you seek them out. I don't fight for myself, I fight for them." Exhausted as she was, she managed to bring up her sword in preparation for one final attack.

Kratos stared blankly at her. All his life, he had only been concerned with what benefited him. Power and glory had been all that he sought while everything else was meaningless to him, even, to his eternal shame, his own family and he had paid a high price for that self-absorbed way of thinking. A price that he had struggled to reclaim for many years. This woman, however, was the exact opposite of what he had been. Where Kratos had hungered for strength, Sophitia only wanted to ensure her family's safety.

"I do not wish to kill you," Kratos stated, "but as I said before, those blades are the only chance I have of seeing my family again. I have gone through far too much to let this opportunity slip away. You know you cannot stop me; leave and I will let you live."

As he said those words, Kratos began asking himself some very difficult questions. Why did he still not want to kill her? He had slaughtered many women, even those with children of their own and never, not even to this day, did he feel remorse over their deaths. Sophitia was no different and, what's more, she actually opposed him in his quest! All who had stood against him had died, without exception.

So why couldn't he bring himself to kill her?

As he battled with himself, Kratos let his guard slip ever so slightly Sophitia took notice of this and threw all she had left into one last attack. She lunged at Kratos, the point of her blade aimed at his heart. This was it; either she killed him or he would kill her. One of them would not see another day.

Just as the sword tip was inches from his chest, Kratos snapped out of his reflection and parried the blow, knocking it out of Sophitia's grasp. The sword clattered some twenty odd feet away. Next, Kratos took hold of her shield and wrenched it off her arm. Now completely defenseless, Sophitia sank to her knees as she watched Kratos reel back to strike back. This time, there would be no restraint; it would be a killing blow.

Sophitia closed her eyes as she waited for death to claim her. A single tear slid down her cheek. Pyrrha. Patroklos. I'm sorry.

#

The final blow never came. Slowly, Sophitia opened her eyes again; Kratos's blade was held barely an inch from her neck. The young woman looked into the Ghost of Sparta's eyes and asked "Why?"

"Because you value your family above yourself," Kratos answered. "Something that I failed to do." He withdrew the blade from her neck and sheathed it. As he began to walk away, Kratos said, "I will spare your life this time, but do not expect this mercy to be repeated."

#

A ways off from his battle with Sophitia, Kratos was surprised to see Ziradus suddenly appear in front of him, looking positively enraged.

"What was that?" he hissed. "Why did you let her live?"

Unfazed by the being's anger, Kratos replied, "My reasons are my own."

"I wanted to see her die and hear her scream! How dare you deny me that! I did not bring you here just so you could go soft on me. You're the Ghost of Sparta, the most ruthless, brutal creature alive! You don't show mercy, you butcher your way through your tasks! That's the reason I chose you to claim the swords!"

"I am here to get the swords for you, not indulge your sadism. I will take whatever measures I deem necessary to acquire them and I will not be beholden to your whims."

"Is that so?" Ziradus snarled. "Well, I have news for you, Spartan: until both Soul Edge and Soul Calibur are in my possession, I own you! I tell you to jump, you jump and if I tell you to kill someone, you damn well kill them!"

Kratos glared at Ziradus, making it plainly obvious that he would love nothing more that to kill him on the spot. "I serve no one, least of all you."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Ziradus retorted with a very nasty smile. "Or have you already forgotten that I still have your family with me?"

He paused to enjoy Kratos's look of utter alarm at his statement before continuing, "That's right, Kratos; until this little adventure is over, your family will be at my mercy, or lack thereof." Ziradus stroked his chin delicately. "Since you seem to have a fondness for that sword-wielding trollop, perhaps I should…make room for her. Out with the old, in with the new, isn't that right? I can hardly imagine the sheer betrayal Lysandra would feel if I were to inform her that she was being replace. And what would dear little Calliope say when she finds out that her beloved father exchanged her doting mother for—"

Ziradus got no further for Kratos had seized him by the front of his shirt and hoisted him high into the air. Quivering with a rage beyond description, Kratos grated, "I will hang you with your own entrails."

"Ah-ah-ah," Ziradus said teasingly. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. You see, Kratos, I went ahead and took some precautions in case you decided to get a little rebellious. I've made it so that I was to die, then your family dies with me. In essence, if you killed me, you'd be killing your family all over again." He looked Kratos squarely in the eye. "Do you really want to go through that again?"

Even as he spoke, Kratos felt the rage die within him. Of course he had no intention of sacrificing his family again. It was possible that Ziradus was bluffing, but it was one that Kratos would never dare call. His look of defeat was all the answer that was needed.

Ziradus smirked, an expression of gloating triumph. "I thought not. Now, be a good boy and put me down."

Kratos growled, but nevertheless complied.

Straightening out his front, Ziradus said, "That's better. So, now that we understand each other, why don't we go on like this unpleasant little event never happened?" He narrowed his eyes. "I trust I am clear in that I expect you to show no mercy at all in future? Should you happen to come across this Sophitia again, you are going to hack her into tiny, bloody pieces. The same goes for anyone else who happens to impede you. Just go back to being your former, barbaric self and all will be well. Are we in agreement?"

Kratos had to fight a powerful urge to throttle the smug humanoid with his bare hands, but managed to give a single curt nod.

"Excellent." Slowly, Ziradus disappeared, but not before issuing a final word, "Just remember, Spartan, I'll be watching you. Don't displease me again."