Disclaimer: Samurai Jack belongs to Gendy Tartakovsky and the Cartoon Network. All other concepts will be right to me or their other creators as they come up.
XXVI. Seth and the Shadow Men
Jack had run out of space to run. He faced a steep climb at his front with a constant rush of bounty hunters at his back. He had been in this scenario many times before, and he knew what to do. He turned with his blade drawn, aimed down the center line of his body to the oncoming horde of enemies, and he analyzed his environment. To his left was the chasm bordered by a frail wooden railing. There was little to strategize in that direction. Behind him was a firm wall with many holes, footholds and rugged folds of rock layers. Jack knew how he could use that. To his right was another solid wall with small houses built into the rock, and a far height above that was another sheer edge of a walking path across the face of the chasm cliff.
All around him he saw the possibilities for combat. He gathered knowledge with the same speed that his sword would cut with. He understood all of his routes and capabilities before the first hunter was upon him. A round man with a simple jetpack and iron-braced knuckles on his thick leather gloves. His thick beard bore his wild, yellow-toothed grin under all the ragged, dry orange fuzz. His black-bagged eyes flashed with intensity as he ripped the cord on his jetpack and rocketed forward.
"HEEERE IIIII COOOOME!!!" He roared. Jack lowered his blade and his eyelids, apathetic and uninterested. He opened his left palm and raised it in front of his body. The bounty hunter continued blasting forth with his mad smile and wound up a punch. "I'm gonna PUNCH YOOOUUUU!!!!" Jack waited in perfect stoic patience. The bounty hunter delivered his rocket-propelled punch. The hand traveled fast, right into Jack's palm, which curled up around it as it traveled. Jack's arm bent back, his face and body unflinching, and then extended out to the side, throwing the bounty hunter's fist and all that followed it spiraling down the gorge.
"I didn't mean iiiiiiiiitttt....." the bounty hunter cried as his voice disappeared. The rest of the company held their distance from Jack as he took his sword up once more, holding it upright at his side and stepping in.
"He's just one guy!" a large-jawed hunter said. "We're a whole damn army, and he's just one simple little guy! There's no way we can't beat him!"
"Are you stupid!?" another hunter called out. "That's Samurai Jack, you idiot! He is an army!"
"Whatever!" the large-jawed man shouted. "Attack at will!" A line of bounty hunters armed with rifles stepped to the front lines. Jack recognized the guns in an instant. The long barrels with wide round openings, the loading cartridge, the aiming sight; they were net cannons. They all fired a wall of steel-wired netting at Jack. Jack jumped backwards onto the wall, gripped a stone above him and jumped up over the nets, right into a fray of hunters who charged after the nets to capture him. Jack threw himself backwards with a powerful slash and sent several hunters stumbling away with cuts across their armored or robotic chests.
Jack turned around and blocked a man's huge iron fists. He punched and smashed down at Jack with his long, strong arms. Jack blocked the fists, guiding their weight into the ground as he led the heavy fighter closer to the empty ledge. With a slash to power the man's fist into the ground he leaped up, ran along his arm, stomped on his face and kicked the back of his head to send him over the edge as well.
"I don't think so!" the iron-fisted hunter shouted. He uncurled his fist with a hydraulic hiss and grabbed the ledge, his other fist dangling down and weighing all of his weight on his clutching iron fingers. Jack landed up top and saw himself cornered against the very ledge he was utilizing. He looked back, then doubled to the line of encroaching hunters, some cocking their net guns again and grinning wildly. Jack tensed his legs and crouched down, prepared to jump once more. The netgunners aimed up and fired their nets over his head. Jack grinned. He hadn't moved. He dashed forward, low to the ground, and rammed his shoulder upwards into a taller man's gut, sending him backwards. He stabbed his sword blindly to the side and clipped the gas tank of a hunter's jetpack. A hissing squeal of gas followed and Jack retreated. He climbed up the stunned man he had just rammed and jumped off of his shoulder just as the jetpack exploded.
He landed in a defensive pose and waited as a round-bodied creature was charging him with stubby clawed arms. It slashed down at Jack in frantic twists of its big body. Jack stood up, still blocking the attacks, and kicked him in the side just as he turned, forcing him to turn fully around. Jack slashed at what looked like a zipper and the creature suddenly deflated. A hunter got tangled up in the groaning balloon animal and fell under its rubber weight. Jack began climbing up the rugged wall behind him to escape but was caught by a rabid-looking tribal baboon robot with extending arms.
"REVENGE!!!" he shouted. He ripped Jack from the wall and slammed him into the ground. Jack shook off the hand, losing some of the cloth from his robe in the struggle to get free and suffering minor scratches from the metal claws that had grabbed him. The baboon robot certainly had similarity to a hunter from Jack's past, another monkey-robot that hooted and pounded its arms against the ground as it threw its extending claw Jack's way. He did remember dispatching it, and rose up to meet the formal challenge of its apparent relative. "I see you remember, don't you! I am Ook-Ook Mulligan! You killed my brother, Eek-Eek Gilligan!" Jack stood ready for the moment after. He was determined to keep his guard up but more pressingly he was planning his retreat. He still had to run. Even with his strength, he couldn't defeat all the bounty hunters and still be any good to help his friends. Finally, Ook-Ook pounced.
"PREPARE TO DIE!!!!" The mechanical monster leaped and swept its slashing claws down from the air, Jack held him back with a high block. Ook's arms grabbed the ground and he kicked with his metal claws, swinging his body back and forth as Jack was pushed against the rock wall. Jack grit his teeth in pain and preparation, knowing what would come next. A robotic extending punch with him against the solid wall, pressing him into the rock with a monkey screech.
Seth had his sword drawn with the bloody edge dripping red onto the floor. He had made his way through the corridors under relentless pursuit only to trap and corral them all in a wide open area within the palace. A ballroom he assumed by the earthen décor. All the guards that chased him were on the floor, hunched over themselves and bleeding, some of them not moving at all. Seth all the while clutched the lightning Gem in his right hand, working his blade with only his dominant left. He glared around in victory and suddenly rushed out of the room.
"Not in there" Seth said. He held the Gem up to his face and walked into the light. Two shining trails were emitted. One was from the Scotsman, obviously, as it was moving even as Seth was moving somewhere just beyond the thick stone walls. The other trail was brighter than before, closer by, and pointed to solid walls at Seth's right. "I can't just keep checking room after room until I find it, can I? That's not practical. I need to find some kind of passage where a Gem would be hidden. I need to think like a Goblin to understand where to go...." Seth stopped in the middle of a wide foyer, not knowing that he was surrounded by slinking, lanky shadows of men. Seth turned his gaze for the staircase in the middle of the most regally carved wall. It led up to the second floor of the main entrance where he stood, and all the doors therein diverged into more halls, tunnels and ways to lead to his eventual destination.
"I'm going to guess" Seth said "that I'm heading for the throne room, right?" He turned around and looked at the sandy stone pillars behind him supporting the walkways of the upper floor. He had expected an answer for a bit, then clutched his Gem and made a run for the stairs. As he ran the shadow-men encroached. Their feet fell with the silence of cat's paws on the ground. Their presence was less than a spider's silken strand that hung overhead and their lethal intent was thicker than any venom. Assassins in all black suits and gear, leather-belted gauntlets with sharp knife claws and metal zipper masks. They ran in perfect step with Seth, keeping his fast pace without a single sound as he ascended the stairs. They hid from sight and light alike when he turned the corners and slowly stalked him from behind the pillars along the balcony.
Seth hummed and paced slowly to see each door and each carving beside it, trying to read the arcane language of the Goblin hieroglyphs to find which door led to the throne room he sought. He moved all along the walkway, keeping his sword across his shoulder laxly and the Gem crackling in vain against his thick leather gloves, ever alert and on guard. He knew he was being followed. He could feel the danger breathing down his very neck. He stopped in front of a wide set of doors paneled in gold with silver drawings across them. He could tell immediately, by the symbol of the crown and swords crossed in a coat of arms, that this was the door to the throne of the Goblin King. He kicked in the doors and was met by the curious, startled expressions of two Orc guards. Seth swooped forward like a quicksilver shadow and, before the guards knew it, they had been stabbed right through their chests. Seth swung the blood from his blade in two deep, hard swings and sheathed it in the side-clip holster that held it to his belt.
He looked back. He saw the shadows move away. Suspicion turned to caution and he advanced in a quick jog. There was no cover in this boxed hallway, bordered with even dimensions in equal patterns of sandy yellow blocks. The assassins followed nonetheless, this time with their bladed fingers reaching out before them, and with a faster pace than what Seth was taking. They were moving in for the kill. Seth loosened his grip on the Gem and let it spark. He held it up in his hand, just within his view, and watched the arcing sparks inside of it gathering toward his face, reaching to zap him. Then, suddenly, they changed direction over his shoulder. A bladed hand was coming down with the leaping body and the stretching fabric of a mask with an open mouth behind it. Seth planted his foot in place and kicked his raised leg straight back, stopping the assassin with a solid plant in the gut and forcing a pained groaning shout from the silent man's mouth. His body rolled across the floor while his comrades shuffled on the tips of their fingers blades and soft-padded boots away from him, like animals trying to corner their kill, ignoring one of their own downed.
Seth simply glowered at them and stood in silence. He drew his blade out slowly and stowed his Gem in his pocket. Both hands were needed to fight with the proper combat prowess he needed. The assassin's continued to shuffle around and moved in with short scuttling dashes across the hallway. Seth kept his eyes fixed on his front and his mind guarding his back. The shadow garb of the assassins started to blur the ground and slight after images of their movement filled Seth's eyes. Soon the downed, slowed body of the man he had kicked so hard disappeared in a thick black mist, and all he could see was the darkness that they spread.
"HKSHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" Hiss a voice in the swirling, building darkness. Seth strained his eyes to see past the illusion and saw, slowly rising up from beneath the fog of black fabric and leather, a new foe. A much taller, longer-limbed, more dangerous and menacing creature with a suit full of silver zippers against thick leather. Its mask had three zippers, one opened up to the mouth of teeth filed down to grotesque fangs. The zipper holes across its eyes were still shut. Around its shoulders were spiked plumes of sharp-looking feathers and tendrils that bent limply behind its back. Its leather claws were within its gloves and chromatic glints shined out from the tips of the stretching fabric. Flowing around it was a billowing plumage of black, flaming fur from a cape that ran down its slim, snakelike back.
Once it stood fully erect on its spiked heels, it pointed at Seth and hissed once more, in a threatening, urgent way.
"SHHHHNNN....RAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!" At its order the minions shuffled at Seth, keeping low to the ground with their metal nails clacking softly on the stone floor.
"Woah!" Seth exclaimed. He retreated at full flight and sliced open the doors to the throne room. He was right, and now frantically searched for a way to follow the beam that guided him through the walls. He looked up with a start and saw them again. They crawled along the ceiling like bugs, swarming overhead and hissing with chattering growls and hisses. Seth was gravely shocked. His mind wasn't as fast as Jack's. He only knew the speed of his blade and made his way out into the middle of the room, away from all the obstacles and pillars that his enemies could surprise him from. With one hand wielding his long sword and the other filled with the brilliance of his mind, Seth prepared for battle. The tall leading figure floated in from the hallway and held, in its clawed fingers, a midnight shade Gem.
"Speak.....no......more!" it hissed. Seth's Gem went dark, and despite his best efforts to curse he found that he was muted by entirely arcane means. His voice, and his magic were both gone, leaving him once again with only his sword. He decided to stow the Gem, use both hands on the hilt and make the best of his circumstances....
The Scotsman, after separating in the foyer from Seth, went up the stairs, to his left and started frantically searching every room he could find. Right now he was fighting just outside the armory, trying to coax those hiding within out for a fair, true fight. However, they were in the armory with a nearly limitless supply of arrows, stones and miscellaneous weapons to throw at him. They kept their distance and hid behind iron shields with loose grips each time he tried to attack, pushing away the scalding hot metal when he blasted his powerful flames their way.
"C'mon you lily-toed fruit-eaters!!!" he roared. "Get out here and FIGHT ME LIKE MEN!!!" The Goblins snickered at his heated remarks and dodged another fireball. It hit the deep-black charred mark on the wall where his others had exploded before. Yet again, the age and physical state of the burly old warrior caught up to him and his strenuous fighting was wearing him down. He panted and sweat, wiping his brow with his hot forearm, then went back to slashing the arrows, rocks and tin cans out of the air as fast as they flew at him. He took his organic knee to the ground and kicked his mechanical one up. A stand kicked down from the sides and a handle with a trigger appeared on the side. He gripped the handle and began firing powerful rounds into the walls where he knew the Goblins would be ducking away.
After the smoke cleared from his smoking barrel leg and the holes in the thick stone wall, he waited and listened to the silence. His leg reset itself and he stood on it, making a march into the armory to inspect his damage. The Goblins were dispatched easily enough. None to soon, as they both held unlit bombs in their hands. The Scotsman began searching calmly for a sign of secret passages or any kind of path that could be taken out of the room and into another that joined with it, but in his inspection he found nothing. He huffed and turned his anger to the door.
"Figures" he said. "I take my precious time with these little pansies in a room that don't even make sense to have and what do I get for it? A wast of time! A rotten block of moldy-old assed cheese. This ain't the worst thing but tis far from the best to finding me bonny lass. I need ta hurry!"
"You won't need to worry about her" one of the Goblins growled "when you're DEAD!" He had somehow survived just long enough to light the bomb and hold it up, right next to the box of explosives next to him. The Scotsman nearly froze up in shock. He managed to compose himself just long enough to run out of the room and down the hall away from the explosion and rushing shrapnel wave of sharp, deadly weapons that chased after him. He rounded a corner, exited to the main hall and slammed the door shut behind him. He was safe, somewhat, and braced against the door as the explosion rocked the walls and shook the door nearly off its hinges. Once it was all over he stood behind the door as it opened, hoping there would be no backdraft behind it. A cloud of smoke rolled out and marked the stone floor with black soot. The hallway had been decimated by the explosion with shaken floor bricks and charred black walls all around. The Scotsman whistled.
"That's a lotta boom!" he exclaimed. "Glad I didn't hit those earlier..." The Scotsman looked across the second floor of the foyer and saw the rushing of black-clad soldiers charging in for battle. He heard the sound of nearby thunder shake through the air and started a vigorous run in its direction. "That long-haired laddy's gonna get himself skewered by the end of the day, it's the truth!" The Scotsman ran as fast as he could, took a breathing break against the wall, then ran again, keeping a steady hand on his sword and his fire Gem clutched tightly in hand. He approached the backside of a caped, billowing creature in all black and roared at it. The demon clad in leather blackness turned its Gem to him and began its incantation hiss, but not before the Scotsman delivered a heroic, flaming punch to the demon's mouth, silencing its silence curse, filling its mouth with hot, righteous coals. Seth was hard at fighting off what looked like a brewing, billowing cloud of darkness with the rapid movements of his sword, desperately searching for an escape.
"Hold on, bucko!" the Scotsman called, unsheathing his sword. He backhanded one weak assassin away, slashed at another and headbutted one right to the ground. The master assassin struggled onto its feet and coughed out the dry, bloody coughs the Scotsman had heated in its throat.
"Be.......blind......!" it commanded. A winding band of darkness stretched through the air for the Scotsman, aimed for his eyes, but a magical interference stopped the curse from reaching him. A fiery fist erupted from the air, a phantasmal muscular arm surrounded by flames clutched the snaking wire of darkness and broke it with a hard grip. The rope squealed out in pain and died into a black mist as the arm vanished into thin air behind the Scotsman's unknowing back. The demonic assassin was speechless and stunned. The Gem of curses had failed it and left the Scotsman free to swing his sword as hard as he wanted against the frail, thin leather armor of the assassins, breaking them and buckling their bodies over his broadsword blade.
"Hang on laddie!" he shouted as he cleared his way into Seth's range of whipping steel silver. Seth stopped and let their backs meet. The mist died down and hugged the ground. The assassins were still and glaring at them both. The leader rose and pointed them both down, roaring with a deep and hollow hiss.
"SHIIIIIN-RAAAAA!!!!!" The assassins roared from under their masks and grew stronger, more primal, more wild. Visibly they were slouched, leaning forward, swinging their arms and twitching their heads while mentally they had been stripped of their humanity. Mindless wolves that encircled too strong goats strayed from the herd. That's all they thought.
"Looks like a pickle, eh?" the Scotsman said. Seth nodded. "Speak up, laddie, can't here you." Seth shook his head. He looked about, ever analyzing his environment for a route, an escape, anything good, and saw the throne. Surely there, of all places, he could find something with promise. His Gem was silent and dead but the Scotsman's still worked. The battle was to be played in favor of he who held fire in his manly grip.
Aku watched over all the world but one spot. The central screen in his wizard's lair of arcane secrecy and dark magic was full of fuzz. The only screen that was supposed to show Jack at all times, in all places, during all the events that perplexed the great dark one, it was blank. Devoid of life. Just earlier he had spotted him in the highlands of a distant, moorish land, then he was going through a swamp with an added stranger to his party, then he was surfing on rocks, now he was just plain gone. Each time Aku came back to check it was blank. Some mysterious force was blocking his view of Jack, and it made him livid. But as a leader he remained calm, letting his anger boil neatly under the surface while he glared and glowered at the screen to change.
"First" Aku began "was the ruining of that cursed Hikami island, and the stealing of its unknown, ancient power. Then he destroyed my entire electrical grid industry by somehow slaying the perpetual lightning storms in the north. Then I lost all contact with the desert area due to gravitational fluxes...Samurai, samurai, what are you after? Where are you going? Who are you with? What is your plan this time.....?"
"Master Aku?" a timid, weak voice called. Aku turned his behemoth self around to see a timid, mouse-bodied alien the height of a stout and stocky little man holding a feeble manilla folder of documents in his shaking hands.
"Speak!" Aku ordered.
"Yes sire!" the nervous clerk said. He opened the folder and leafed through the pages with a shaking grip. He pulled out a report file and skimmed through it with quick-moving eyes. "Uh, the mercenary you hired, Claude, is on the move. He gathered up his own private company of fighters and they are en route to an old, ruined city somewhere on the Fifth Continental Quarter."
"Why there!?" Aku demanded, leaning his colossal face in close. "I did not elect him the be the bearer of limitless wealth, under my unlimited legal protection, to go sightseeing! How certain is he that the Samurai will travel there when even I, the Almighty Aku, do not know his whereabouts!?"
"Uh...." the mousy man began. He shivered and shook and wrung his hands and the papers in him, forcing him to drop the folder and its contents down a long abysmal void. "Oh no!" he exclaimed. He looked up into Aku's impatiently glaring eye in horror. "I'm so sorry, sire! I didn't mean to do that! They slipped! I dropped them! I'm such a fool! I'm sorry! Have mercy upon me!"
"I think not!" Aku said. "BEGONE!!!" He leaned back and swept his hand swiftly over the air where the man stood. He was gone, replaced by a burnt mark in the ground and a wisp of smoke. Aku rubbed his fingers together and turned back to his screens, leaning back in a deep chair with an impatient smacking of his lips.
"Samurai, samurai" he lowed. "When will you die....?"