The Order of Sparda continues, dear readers! I must admit, it's getting much harder for me to rein in how many chapters I upload at a time. By this point, my fingers are itching to start doing my portion of the writing for this incredible tale. I probably should before I upload the rest of Clairavance's chapters, so that I don't leave you all hanging too long afterwards.
Anyway, here we go! You know the routine by now. ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own "The Order of Sparda"-it belongs to Clairavance; I have adopted the story from her. All characters belong to Capcom, except for any OCs Clairavance created, such as the members of Ramy and Kieran.
Chapter 10: Level 10: Jaded
"War," Sparda said seriously, "is comprised of strategy, intellect, and skill. If you know your enemy then you won't underestimate him. If you know yourself, you have nothing to fear. War is also based on deception."
Nero leaned back and rubbed his forehead slowly. "All I'm interested in is how to win this damn war and get Kyrie out of there."
Sparda pursed his lips. He didn't speak again until Nero dropped his hand to his side and their eyes met. "My people are right in the middle of hell this very moment, though their force is small. A couple thousand, at most. They are some of the best soldiers to ever grace the face of this world, and there is no doubt in my mind that our enemy is unknowingly suppressing them. Though, my men are putting up the farce of inactivity. They slave away, they take the beatings, the abuse..."
"How do you know that?" Nero interrupted, unsettled by what he could sense in the other man. "Before I told you war broke out two minutes ago, you didn't know about any of it."
"I know my men," Sparda said with an edge to his voice. His pale blue eyes turned icy and dangerous. He licked his lips, and gestured to Nero. "Now listen well, son. When you are able to attack, you must appear to be unable."
"Why?" Nero asked.
"You can't play poker and expect to win when the other players can see all of your cards," Sparda said.
"You're comparing war to a poker game?" Nero asked carefully.
"I'm using it as an example," Sparda said sharply.
"Not a very good example. Dante cheats at poker."
"There's nothing wrong with having a card up your sleeve every once in a while," Sparda said. "But you cheat only as a last resort, when you've run out of hands to play. You have to put on a poker face and bluff your way through it when the need for it calls."
"Okay, can we skip the poker part and just get to the point?" Nero asked, shaking his head in mild confusion.
"My point is that you must be deceiving in every tactic and every strategy you execute. When we are near the enemy we must make them believe we are far away, and when we are far away we must feign proximity to our enemy. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Deceive the enemy. Gotcha," Nero said, leaning forward with his arms on his knees when a knock came at the door.
"Who is it?" Sparda called out irately.
"Kieran."
"Get in here," Sparda called and muttered something in an archaic language. Nero got the impression from the way Sparda spat the words out that he was swearing. "The most important thing you must remember is that you should modify your plans when circumstances are favourable to do so. If you throw your opponent off and make it impossible for them to predict your next move, you will bring confusion to their leader and fear to their men."
Nero tilted his head to the side. "That sounds like something Dante told me before. He said he strategizes on the go. I thought he meant he was just winging it," Nero said, clenching his hands together. He noticed his arm glowing a bright, deep blue, throbbing with fierce purple streaks. His gaze moved from his arm to Kieran, who had come to stand beside the couch with curiosity on his face, and finally fixed on Sparda.
"We're going to have to fix that for you," Sparda nodded at Nero's arm with a deep scowl, and glanced at Kieran before Nero could speak up. "Bring me my sword."
"I thought I warned you not to speak of war in the presence of our Lord," Kieran said, glaring at Nero in displeasure, and nodded at Sparda. "What for, if you don't mind my asking?"
"So I can stab the boy to death," Sparda said. "Who is the subordinate here? My business with the sword is of no concern to you."
"Of course not, my lord," Kieran sighed deeply. "I will bring it to you right away, but I came to fetch Nero."
"Nero and I are busy. He'll come with you later."
"My lord, if I do not return to the board room with Nero in five minutes, I do believe Dante will come kick the door in and attempt to shoot at us. Or so he threatened," Kieran protested.
"Go tell him I'll be waiting," Sparda said harshly, before turning to Nero. "Now there are five major idiots in warfare, Nero. There will be the reckless idiot that will cause destruction. With reckless aggression comes error in combat. Keep aware of your opponent and don't hesitate to strike them down when they present you the chance. Then there is the coward, the fool who becomes flustered in the face of defeat and attempts to run away from confrontation. Set after them and show them no mercy. Next you have the kind-hearted idiot who worries too much over his men and will be foolish enough to stand up and fight to protect them. They are blinded by their own incompetence. Then there are the idiots who are all about honour and would rather die than have their honour shamed. Do them a favour and put them out of their shame fast. And lastly, there are the temperamental idiots who grow outraged when you insult them."
"I know a few of those," Nero said as images of Echidna and Bael ran through his mind. He shuddered at the last memory in disgust. "What are you telling me all this for, though?"
"You said you wanted to go get Kyrie out of there, didn't you?" Sparda said. "You ought to be prepared and know what you'll be put up against."
Nero pinched his eyes closed as the words rolled through his mind. "Okay. But look, if you're planning on sending the cavalry with me..."
"You won't be alone," Sparda interrupted. "I've told you my men are already in place. You don't need to enlist their aid because they will recognize you and act as they deem necessary, and as their general you will be able to make use of them."
"Yeah, but I'm better on my own," Nero countered. "I don't need an army to slow me down. All I want is to get in and get Kyrie out. Nothing else matters but saving her."
Sparda's stone cold expression faltered and he cast a forlorn look down at his feet. He pressed his hands together and took a long moment before meeting Nero's gaze head on. There was an overwhelming silence in the room.
Kieran's heavy sigh sounded through the room, and he spoke in a quiet, careful voice. "Do you not know the legend of Sparda?"
Nero blinked at him, momentarily confused. "Of course I do."
"You know then that Sparda," Kieran said, casting a look that was akin to sympathy at Sparda's back, before turning furious eyes on Nero, "had the heart to love a human being."
"Leave us," Sparda said curtly.
Kieran obeyed without hesitation. When the door shut, Sparda got up to refill his goblet with wine. With his back still turned to Nero, he said, "I know where your mind is at. I have loved," Sparda sighed the last word despondently, and Nero looked away when Sparda turned to him. "I would have fought off all of hell again and again if it could have saved her."
Sparda came to lean against the wall beside Nero, slowly drinking the wine. "She was my first memory when I woke up here, and for a long time she was my only memory, and I was pissed off."
Nero glanced at him, surprised. "Because you were being kept here?"
"Because no one was willing to tell me where she was," Sparda shook his head. "No one wanted to burden me with the truth. I know what it is to lose someone infinitely precious, and I know if I let you walk out of here without giving you fair warning of what you're going to be walking into, you'll find yourself standing in my shoes in the end."
"Alright. You've got my full attention," Nero said.
Sparda flashed a ghost of a smile. "Good."