*Etiger and MegaBlastDragon see a strange figure at Novelist's comptuer*
Etiger : Hey...who's that?
MBD : No idea...it's not Alex. It can't be Novelist...he hasn't been here in ages.
Etiger : Hey! You! Who are you?
Novelist: It's me! Novelist!
MBD : Don't lie! Black Wargreymon get him!
Black Wargremon : Terra destroyer!
Novelist : Not again!
*smoke clears as they check the body*
Etiger : Oh god...it's Novelist.
Novelist : Waffles...
MBD : He's alive..I think we broke him...
Etiger : Uh...I'm sure he was already broken *places a note on Novelist's back that read " I owe you waffles".
I am alive!
No..not really. One essay down...one to go...oh and an exam with 70 question...yippee..I will be updating when I can, this story isn't finished yet and neither am I. Thank you for the continued supoprt despite the random updates but I will continue to update.
Vicious violent yellow eyes darted in every direction possible. He moved quicker than he had a long time, his opponents finally giving him a true challenge. His eyes dart back once more, checking on his prioity before flashing back to a new target. His sword cuts cleaning through the obstacle before he kicks off the ground into a rapid ascent back into the cluttered sky. Another powerful swing of his sword and another enemy falls, He can't even identify what he's cutting through anymore. He's nothing more than a blazing blue blur across the golden desert. A blur races past him, he's just barely dodged another attack. The heat washes over his left shoulder. His cape is gone, now nothing but ashes laying cluttered with the sand. Something latches itself around his arm , before he can so much as react the tiny weight has pulled him out of the sky. He crashes into the sand with an almighty force.
"Get him!" He hears the order being cried out over the chaos. He knows the voice. The Royal Knights. He pushes himself up with a start in an expert move. Sand kicks up all around him, blinding anyone nearby for a moment. A moment is all he needed. His eyes located the chain wrapped tightly around his arm and within a second, his sword snapped the chain into a hundred pieces. He lunges forward , his sword easily passes through a blinded opponent before he turns on his heel and slash another. He feels a force knock him from behind but within a second he's turning, quicker than even he thought he could and his sword impales the yellow Digimon through the neck. With a jerk of his sword, data exploded in every direction. Within seconds he takes to the sky again. He feels the weight of attacks pass him by and barely miss. He turns and as he takes a painful blast to the chest he's rocketed backwards, smoke still rolling off his armour. He raises his sword and points it towards the strong, monsterous black clouds that have gathered above, the azure tip of his weapon glinting wickedly. He feels it bubble and surge to the tip of his weapon and with a simple flick of his wrist the clouds part.
"Lightning Barrage!" Six giant haphazard lightning bolts shaped into zig zagging arrows exploded from the sky and crashed into the ground, carving lines in the ranks of enemies in random directions. As quickly as they appeared, they were gone again, simply disappating into the air. The attack, as much damage as it did, it had left him wide open for several crucial seconds. Even with the darkened sky, he could see clearly the attacks coming for him. A long snaking dragon crashed into him, leaving long horrifying gashes on his armour. He could feel the dragon slowly change direction and propel itself to the ground. Seconds later he felt the full force of the attack explode outwards as his body snapped and bent. His armour creaked and groaned under the force as an ice pillar emerged behind him. He had applied just enough force to push the attack off it's path. He quickly picks himself up again, ice falling and shattering around him as it's unable to pin him down. There's a crash and before he can react, a figure in pure white armour and blue sash and honourary symbols passes him by, spear connecting with the ice in a powerful blow. The knight is quickly twisting his body and readying his weapon again, before thrusting accurate deadly attacks towards him. He blocks each attack, as best as he can, his opponent as fast as he is. He can't even recognise the white knight, a new Digimon. Suddenly, he sees the oppening as he grabs the spear and pulls the knight towards him, his free fist ignited in blazing lightning as it cuts through the white knight. Before the data can even float away, more Digimon are approaching. He feels the impossible task beginning to weigh on him. He pulls a second sword from the seeth low on his back and at the same time he picks up the spear and snaps it, grasping it as a second sword. Ice pillar to his back, hundreds of enemies infront of him and monsterous clouds above him. It feels so primeval, so raw as if acting out a battle from hundreds of years in the past. This was his battle now. He would not yield. He is Warrior Strikemon. The azure wolf knight. The protector.
Only the odd combatant dare to come near. The young man shifted carefully around, moving in familiar patterns. Never keeping his back to the crowd for too long. Fear and worry filled more than half of the eyes of the crowd. He smirked. This was good. Someone came running at him. Easily, he steps forward and barely moves out of the way , choosing to kick the opponents knee as hard as possibly as he passes back. The opponent crumples but quickly rises and turns, his balance shaky. The average sized opponent races towards again , his arm drawn back. He rushes in towards him, dodging the blow and using his entire might he lands on perfectly clean blow into the ribs of the opponent. He drops again before almost scuttling away with ragged breath. He relaxes his posture and rises.
"Who's next?" He calls out. He doesn't want another fight, but he inspires fear. Another person steps forward and in a manner of seconds, he's dealt with almost quicker than his predecessor. He notices at least two unconcious bodies nearby, bood covering their jaws and noses. He was supposed to protect. Watch over and guide others. Now, here he was, fighting agains't other Digidestined in a violent , near savage manner. He used to be refined, ending fights in one or two blows, now he enjoyed the sport. The way he could come close to losing but turn it around and induce more pain than the opponent. It made him grin madly. The sense of battle, the rush of danger. The feeling of blood splattering across his fist had become an addiction. It was like someone had switched off the safety button on his body and had fully unleashed him against any opponent. A weapon of stored anger and hate being inflicted on others in short bursts. It was addicting, allowing everything to flow from him into a fight. No holding back. He got to endulge in it so often now. He no longer fought to protect, he fought to attack and push his control. He'd fallen from his path so quickly.
"Think you can take me?" A cocky voice reaced him. A sheer tank of a man emerged from the crowd, a little older than himself. Heavily built, short buzz cut hair, combat trousers, tight t-shirt and a black shiny batton in his right hand. He stands in a good posistion, possibly military training. The opponent's eyes glaze over, going into combat mode. He advances and begins his assault, the weapon flying in expert blows. The protector barely moves in any time, his reflexes good enough to keep him from taking a hit. It goes on for a while, the dodging and attacking, almost perfectly balanced in combat. The tank takes a wrong step and falls forward , the perfect opening. The protector puts everything he can into one single blow to the tanks face. He's not done yet and moves quicker than anyone expected and he's pushing himself towards the tank as he steadies himself. Another blow lands in the exact same spot, sending the tank to the floor. Before he can even react, the boot of the protect swipes him cleanly across his jaw, sending him into a black sleep. The victor stands and wipes the sweat away, his indulgence fading away. The realisation of the damage he's just done suddenly washing over him.
"Who want's to try this time?" He calls out. Fear is now his biggest tool. He's fallen from the honourable path. His actions are darker and his fights brutal. He can no longer hold back as the black anger fueled battles rage on physically and emotionally. He cracks his neck as he realises he's fallen from grace. A strange, comforting feeling molds itself inside him, a perculiar freedom of action he's never had before. This is a battle he will win. A battle he must win. For his sake and the others. He grins, he'll use any method he can to win , even if he can never pull himself from the sinful grasp. He's Will Murphy. The Guardian Primus.
Lightning had darkened the sky not long ago. Trace had watched it and gripped his Digivice tightly. He was keeping track of the signals of his friends. Friends who were now fighting for his life.
"We should go back." Black Wargreymon moaned angrily. Trace nodded but he didn't move. A huge tower of ice erupted from the ground. Whatever they were doing, Will and Warrior Strikemon were causing chaos down there.
"He'll be fine." Hannah chipped in. Trace turned and looked at her , her eyes full of respect for the Irish Digidestined.
"He's strong. He can handle it." Hannah smiled. Trace wondered how could someone have such blind faith in someone. He remembered the days he could trust Will in a heartbeat. Now? Something had changed inside them both.
"Plus, the Digidestined down there are mostly out to make a name. They're got no experience. The one's that do, they're still nothing compared to Will. He'll make it out of this." Leya came up alongside Trace and placed her hand on his shoulder.
"Will's getting weaker. So is Warrior Strikemon. That's why they train agains't me and Black Wargreymon so often." Trace said quietly so only the two girls heard.
"What?" Leya asked in a very worried tone. Black Wargreymon scoffed.
"They're not getting weaker. Damn knight still packs a punch." Black Wargreymon shifted his weight in the sand so he could keep moving, leading the refugees away from the combat.
"Alex Dowski has been monitoring the crests for sometime, the one's that are left anyway. Mine, the two of yours, for example. He's monitored Will since we came back from the Nightmare world, after the Alpha incident. The signal is getting weaker. It's fading." Trace shut his eyes and a ran hand through his hair.
"Fading? What do you mean?" Hannah asked as she leaned in closer.
"Will's crest is arteficial, it's not real. The power is fading from his crest. Basically, his crest is dying. Every battle they go into, the more it fades. We don't know if Will's noticed yet. The last week, the strength of his crest has dropped rapidly twice."
"So how long does he have left?" Leya asked. Trace shrugged.
"Not even Alex knows." Was the only reply Trace could give. A beep emitted itself from all three Digivices. A new signal had entered the area and was moving at a rapid pace.
"It's not a question of how long Will can last in a fight, it's a question of how long until his crest gives out." Trace said it as plain as day as a black mass shot past them in nothing more than a blur.
"Look's like Will get's help afterall." Black Wargreymong growled, annoyed by the circumstances.
Will pushed himself up from the floor and spat into the sand, spraying a red mist. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smeering his glove with his own blood. He pressed himself onto one knee and stared at his opponent. His body was burning now, cuts adorning his left arm. He'd failed to dodge someone with a knife. His right leg was tormenting him, having taken a thunderous blow earlier. His breath refused to be caught as he exhaled rapidly. Will let his arm rest on top of his knee as he shut his right eye, blood streaming across it. He'd sustained a head injury earlier and was preventing him from seeing properly, the blood covering his eye.
"Finally! Thought you'd never go down!" The voice boomed out. There was no cheering, No sound at all from the crowd as their champion approached the fallen Will.
"I'm not dead yet." Will forced himself to stand, his body creaking and urging him to lay down. His opponent was his size but he'd picked up the batton from the millitary trained man earlier. Will collapsed back onto one knee and he stopped himself from falling completely by propping himself up with his good arm. The man stood over him, pressing the tip of the batton in his cheek. Will stared him in the eyes.
"So you can actually go through with this?" Will asked as he laughe shallowly at the end, his chest straining even more.
"You were okay with knocking out a good dozen of us. One of you? No problem." The cocky reply caused Will's blood to boil. He was about to be finished by a very stupid man. He didn't like this.
"Incoming!" Without warning, dozens of shots of vile burning red flame exploded all around . People began to run in panic as a black demon Digimon circled above, taking pot shots. Smoke began to rise with a disgusting melted acidic odor. A figure crashed into his opponent, easily winning the fight in several hits. Will pushed himself up, the heat of the explosions washing over him.
"I come all this way hearing about how the Royal Knights capture a Dark Digidestined and it's you!" The figure approached him as he pulled back his black leather sleeves.
"Sorry to disappoint you Reaver." Will scowled at the American Digidestined.
"Watch my back!" Reaver said as he went back to back with the half broken Will.
"You're staying? Wow, you're actually helping someone else! Someone get a camera!" Will exclaimed dramatically as he got into a defensive pose.
"Ha! Don't charm youself. If I let you die the others would kill me themselves." Reaver stated bluntly, his voice on the egde of sheer rage.
"I knew it! Looking out for yourself again!" Will laughed loudly. The crowd who had chosen to stay watched on in confused stares.
"Better than looking out for your sorry excuse of a fight!" Reaver bit back viciously.
"Stupid American!" Will snarled back as he threw an elbow into Reaver's back.
"Bloody Irish!" Reaver returned the blood as he spat out the insult. The two stopped speaking as several opponents stepped forward yet again.
"Come on. Stay awake you fool!" Reaver urged Will on in a rough voice. They had escaped the fighting after a while but Will had begun to black out due to the injuries. Will's arm was draped around Reaver's neck as Reaver kept a tight hold on the back of Will's belt, keeping him upright whilst pulling him forward. Will's feet were barely able to keep up. Reaver stole a glance behind him. A few Digidestined were coming for them. Reaver swore as he realised he'd left his leather jacket in the fray, leaving him in a simple white t-shirt and jeans. Blood spattered across the lower half of his t-shirt. Brusies were forming on his right cheek from several bad blows.
"Stay way Irish or I will leave you!" Reaver watched as Bleezemon took pot shots, trying to force the line back. Lightmon was jogging along side the two humans, his energy finally having given out for the day. Reaver observed the rookie for a moment, his skin was adorned with scratches and new scars, his fur coat darker than ever before, his eyes were blood shot. Reaver pushed forward.
"American." He heard uttered from Will. Reaver rolled his eyes. At least he wasn't carrying a corpse. A chill ran down his spine. The Royal Knights hadn't taken part in the fighting. They weren't even pursuing them. Suddenly , Will pushed himself off Reaver and stood , pressing a hand agains't his head. Reaver watched him for a second. Will took one step forward and stumbled a little but held his hand out, refusing the help from Reaver.
"Hello boys." A sensual voice softly carried out to them. Reaver and Will went wide eyed.
"Oh crap." Reaver muttered.
"Looks like you could use a hand." Her soft silky brown hair fluttered in the gentle wind. Her tight jeans fit her jeans perfectly as did her pure white shirt. She wore a simple black jacket over it.
"Emperor Greymon, go!" Suddenly, several long snaking dragons of flame raced over the hill top , smashing into the desert behind them, sealing them off from the Royal Knight faction.
"Not her again." Will uttered so quietly. He could barely stand, everything was going fuzzy.
"Tanya Burges. I knew you'd be nearby." Reaver scowled, his blood boiled and his hands became solid fists as he stared at his old opponent. Tanya Burges. Warrior. Partner of Jack Knight. The woman who nearly defeated both Reaver and WIll during the secret war a year ago.
"You can't be here." Will held the back of his hand to his mouth as he felt bile rise in his stomach. Lightmon growled, as he looked around the red dragon knight he had faced before.
"Well, you boys need help." She stretched out her hand. " I can give you the help you need. Unless you'd rather face that lot alone." A sly smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"No. We won-" Before Will could finish the sentence, a cold darkness over took his senses and he crashed into the sand , completely unconcious.