Max stood on the stone floor of the arena, his eyes locked with his opponent in an attempt to ignore the cheers of the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Saphira sitting in the main entrance tunnel, Angela and Kyra sitting with her.
"There is no way Saphira's going to help you." Max's father said, his arms crossed over his chest. "Adam's got that covered. I have never seen it in reality, but he can completely destroy anything in one strike."
"And you're not going to tell me how you know that." Max's said, his hand clutching Daybreak tightly.
"Just ask Uncle Kyle. Both him and Ruby know." John behaved rather relaxed for someone unarmed. In fact, his face was just a bit saddened as he watched Max's stance. "Kind of doubt he will be willing to talk to you once this is all over. His wife is a human, you know." He said it so casually, as if not a thing coming out of his mouth hurt him. The Straighter family was close friends with them, so Max had an uneasy feeling about the man before him.
"Are you really my father?" Max asked, shifting slightly. Their was a gleam in John's eye and he flinched. Max involuntary stepped back as his father shot forward, closing the gap between them faster than the blink of the eye.
"I am." He said coldly. A dull pain slammed Max's chest as John hit him with an open hand strike, sending him flying. "And like always, I can't lose." The crowd let out a roar of approval, howling like animals. Talk about ironic since John was the only human in the room.
Max sprung to his feet and got into a defensive position, eyeing his father closely. He's gotten better since I last fought him. Max thought. It's like the gap between our strengths has only increased.
Are you sure you can do this? Saphira asked. Max nodded. Ok. I'll keep an open channel of thought to the others.
Max let a feeling of gratitude transfer between them before he threw himself into battle. He ran forward and began to slash and stab at his dad, only for the man to dodge or side step each strike with a comment.
"Too high. Poorly coordinated. That was obviously a wild swing. Miss. Too low. Are you even trying?" John was aggravating Max with each passing attack. It was like trying to hit a highly evasive talking piƱata. Max swung at his head and he leaned out of the way, kicking him in the gut. "Only fighting easy battles again, have we?" He hopped back a few paces and waited for his son to get up.
"You." Max panted, getting to his feet. "Are a real asshole, you know that right?"
"Yeah, I know." John said, putting his hands in his tattered pockets. "But I find it insulting that your holding back." Max picked up his sword again and held it in a ready position. "I am your father, Max, not your friend. And right now, if either of us want to see Blake survive, the other must die."
"Well at least I won't have any regrets!" Max rushed forward, his sword held down by his waist and his body leaned down low. He rushed toward John's left side (his right), aiming to run him through. A satisfied grin flashed on John's face as he began to turn, his hand moving to intercept the blade and push it out of the way. A tell tale glow warped around his hand as the man focused his aura around his hand. So that's how he does it! Well here's a surprise in return, asshole. Right before his blade was made contact with his fathers hand, Max gave a agile turn of the wrist and the blade dodged around his opponent's arm, and a step later a long gash stretched across his stomach.
"Damb. A shallow cut, but a cut none the less." The wound healed over from the mans aura. Max stopped to wonder how he was even bleeding if he still had aura, only to shake it out of his head as he got back to focusing on the fight. The sight of blood had pumped up the crowd, only to grow quite as Adam stood up and tossed the sword he had retrieved from the armory to the field. John gave the sword one look before kicking it to the side. "If I'm allowed a weapon, it will be my weapon."
As soon as Max registered the words, he rushed at his father in an attempt to stop him from bring it out. To late, Midnight appeared in his hand in time to parry his attack. Max flipped his sword in his hand and pulled back while retreating, sparks flying as John blocked the hit and countered. To the surprise of both fighters, he missed.
He's rusty! Max realized. His defense is fine because he focuses mostly on dodging, but his offensive is rather poor. Max could use this. He switched to defensive and started gauging his opponent's moves. He took careful notice of the strength behind each blow he deflected or blocked and were he was aiming.
Max found an opening when he parried, pushing Daybreak down the flat of the enemy sword in an attempt to strike at his fathers head. He was interrupted, however, when his father's knee made contact with his groin.
"No fair." Max grunted, doing his best not to fall to the ground and cover his balls.
"All is fair, in love and war." John said, walking a few paces back to let his son recover and get to his feet.
"And which do you fight for?" Max spat. He felt like he was back in his backyard, getting beaten in a practice fight again. The main difference was that the blows he was receiving weren't soft.
"You will understand someday." Max glared at his father. He truly hated all these cryptic responses he was receiving. It was almost as if the man was trying to make him hate him.
Max snatched his sword off the ground and stood up, quickly returning his gaze to his enemy. In the split second his eyes had been diverted, his father had split himself into five and was now weaving in a circle around him, moving fast enough to make it impossible to tell who was the original. Then they all stopped and leveled their swords at him.
Max laughed slightly at the simple trick his father was trying to pull. What a fool. Since the rest are just illusions, I just have to listen for the real ones heartbeat. He closed his eyes and focused on his ears. Sure enough, if he concentrated hard enough he could make out his targets heart beat through the cheers of the crowd. But when he found it, his eyes flew open and he flew towards the one farthest away. How can they all have heartbeats?
Fast pace metallic clangs echoed across the battle ground as Max threw a series of three strikes at his father, followed up with a finishing stab to the chest. He didn't pay attention to the clone as it turned to shadow, pumping power to his legs as he dashed at the next one. This one blocked his hit, only to be downed as Max quickly swiped its legs out from underneath him and stabbed him in the chest.
"So you were holding back." One of the John's shouted, rushing in and engaging. They swapped blows for a few seconds before another one kicked Max in the back, nocking him away. "This is more like it!"
Max twisted in the air and landed on his feet, catching himself with his hand. He used his semblance to form jets of fire from his feet as he kicked off, launching himself like a rocket at another one of his father, peircing him through the heart. The figure dissolved into shadow, revealing another one launching a stab at him. Max side stepped and cut him in two. Three down, two to go.
"Which one of us will you choose, my son?" A content look was on each of his faces. Max felt a rage boiling in his chest.
How can he be so calm? He wondered, not liking how easy the fight had gotten.
Because he wants to lose. Angela said over a mental link. He's not fighting at full strength, only enough to make it look as if he was serious.
Max was about to ask how she knew that when his opponents rushed forward, throwing well coordinated strikes to push him back, constantly switching places whenever he threw a counter strike. "To answer your question," Max grunted as he knocked back one of the clones. "I chose both of you!" He launched backwards with flames out of his feet. Over a hundred guns materialized out of thin air, halting his father in his tracks. That's when Max used his other semblance, the one that brought the guns, and appeared behind his father, both swords in hand. "Game over." He said darkly, thrusting the blades into his dad.
Blood spattered on the ground as he withdrew the weapons, kicking over the remaining man. Max stared down at the dying man, confused on why he felt nothing after doing such a horrible act. "Happy now?" He asked, staring at his father.
A smile crossed the mans lips, his eyes darkening. "Very." He said in a weak voice. "Do me a favor. Don't let your mother see my body." He winched in pain, his voice fading by the second. "Listen carefully to your final order. Tell your mother this. A mocking birds final breath, means there was more air left in his lungs upon death. If your heartaches from now without, look beyond the shadow of a doubt." The last part was barely a whisper, the man using the last of his strength to convey it to his son.
"As you wish." Max bowed his head, setting the body alight. He pored more and more energy into the flame, burning everything, including the bones. "Your fight is over. Don't bother coming back again."
Hey guys, thanks for reading my chapter. I originally meant this one to be combined with the last one, but I decided to go with this. I hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for the reason behind the message. I would be greatly pleased if anyone would like to guess at the answer.
