The Master Corps
Disclaimer: I do not own Monster Hunter. The game belongs entirely to Capcom. All characters that appear belong to me, unless otherwise stated.
Edited by: dashboardgecko
Chapter 34- Ghosts
Though she flinched slightly as the rapier struck her shield, Snow slashed upwards with her sword, slamming the edge of her weapon into the Guild officer's. The man stumbled back to try and maintain his balance, and the Hybrid spun about, driving her heel into the man's head with enough force to send him flying into a wall across the street. He stuck there for a moment before crumpling to the ground, his hat falling gently beside Snow's foot.
She glanced to the side in time to see another two officers sent flying by her brother, blue bolts of electricity arcing off their bodies as they hit the ground and rolled to a stop beside one another and groveled about on the floor for a moment or two, only to go still a second later.
"Keep moving!"
Snow shook herself away from the sight and raced after Frost, keenly aware of the shouts from the officers pursuing them, of the occasional gunner set up on the surrounding rooftops, of the few ambushes the Guild enforcers were trying to set in their path to impede their escape. Her senses were working better than ever, and she couldn't deny that currently, she was feeling more alive than ever.
And yet, she was still horrified by this turn of events. She and Frost had been fleeing for hours now, yet they really had nowhere to go. No doubt the Guild had already shut down all the ports and commercial airships heading out of the city, but even if they hadn't, Snow doubted she or Frost could reliably pilot one themselves. They were very quickly running out of options, so they just kept going forward and smashing through anything the Guild put in their way. She'd been avoiding lethal methods as best she could, trying to dispatch any attackers with kicks or shield bashes, but in the panic of the situation she wasn't really sure whether she was holding back enough anymore or not.
The twins darted into an alley on the side of the street, and Snow threw her arm out at the sight of a few more Guild officers rushing towards them. A fine, wintery mist appeared from her hand and stretched up the wall beside the pair and over the red-uniformed men before solidifying into a large spiral of bluish ice. The Hybrid gracefully skirted up the ramp and vaulted over their pursuers, slashing the latter section of the ice ramp as she did so. The section fell to the ground below, jamming into the tiled earth and creating a temporary barrier that blocked the officers into the alley. Frost had merely opted to leap over the officers, soaring over their heads and landing with a roll next to the huntress before pushing himself up, and once more the pair continued their mad dash.
Snow was just glad they hadn't run into many civilians during all of this. There was the odd pedestrian still out and about, or hiding in an alleyway nearby that let out cries of fear when the two raced by, but by and large the people were trying to stay inside of the buildings. Snow didn't want anyone getting caught up in this, least of all ordinary people that could hardly even protect themselves.
She spared a quick glance to the side at her brother as they raced up another of Loc Lac's abandoned streets. Though he still wore his helm, Snow could tell his expression was more focused than it had ever been. His eyes narrowed, diamond-shaped pupils thinned, mouth pursed into a fierce-yet-stoic scowl. She hadn't been paying as close attention to those he fought off to see if he was being as careful of taking lives as she, but now wasn't the time to concern herself over that. They needed somewhere to hide, to let things die down a little while they fully registered how this all could have happened. Snow just couldn't focus her mind on that right now, not with everything else going on.
Seeing a barricade set up in their path, the twins rounded into another alley and hurried onto an adjacent street, though they slid to a halt as two teams of hunters appeared on either side of them, boxing them in. No doubt the officers were already moving to block off the alley they had just entered…
"Frost, focus on the right!" Snow called, racing towards the group of hunters alongside the long sword user. The hunters tightened the gaps between them, and a lance user raised his weapon defensively as they neared. Snow swiped her sword through the air, and a thin layer of ice formed over the ground and beneath the hunters' feet. The Hybrid slid to the left as though she were on skates, darting past the lance user's weapon as he attempted to jab at her with it, and she ducked low as two sword wielders attempted to slash at her. The blades whistled over her head, and the two hunters stumbled in surprise as their feet slid over the ice beneath them. Snow acted quickly, turning about and striking one hunter in the side with her shield powerfully enough to leave a noticeable dent in his Barroth armor. She pulled her arm away and ran the spikes into the side of the other hunter, piercing his Rathalos armor as easily as a nail through wood.
She brought her sword arm up in time to catch another attack aimed at her shoulder from the Barroth clad hunter. Twisting around, the Hybrid tore the blade from the man's grasp and struck him diagonally across the chest with her spiked Barioth sword, cleaving into the armor with little effort. She smirked slightly at the sight of the man's blood beneath the gash in his armor, and that coated her sword and the prongs on her shield, but she shook the feeling from her head a moment later. She had to hold back. The Hybrid spun to the side and drove her foot into the hunter's face, kicking him onto his back almost three yards away. Before the hunter's ally could react, she turned about again and slammed the flat of her shield into the side of his head, flooring him immediately and causing him to slide several yards away on the ice.
As she did so, Frost fired his longsword into the lance, blasting the hunter's guard wide open as his weapon was forced upwards by the blue blade's pommel. The hammer wielder attempted to swing at Frost as he neared, but the Hybrid had already closed the distance between himself and the hunters and grabbed hold of the lance wielder's shield, pulling it- and the man attached to it- in the way of the oncoming attack, which bounced off the tower shield with a loud ring. Frost drove his elbow into the lance wielder's side, causing him to keel over with a pained grunt, and the Hybrid knocked him out with a forceful punch to the front of his helm. The hammer user attempted to swing again as his lance wielding companion skidded away, but Frost turned and caught the blunt weapon by the head with one hand, halting the attack in its place.
"So weak."
The hunter grunted in shock, and Frost brought his other hand to the weapon, taking hold of the head as he turned and pulled the hunter into the air. He spun the man around himself twice before releasing the weapon, hurling him back towards the group of hunters that had begun to move towards them to assist the first team. The hammer wielder slammed into two of the hunters, knocking all three about twenty feet back into a pile of armor, weapons, and groveling, groaning bodies. He glanced towards Snow and nodded, and the pair turned and raced away from the two remaining hunters, who were struggling to find their footing over the ice separating them. Frost raised his arm up and caught his sword as it fell back to the earth several yards up the road, sheathing it in one fluid motion.
A slight twinge through the air alerted Snow to a presence on a nearby rooftop, and both she and Frost leapt out of the way, just in time to avoid a glowing green shaft of energy that stuck into the cobblestone. She shifted her gaze skyward in time to see the archer drawing another magically summoned projectile and level it directly at her.
"Viper…"
"You were lucky I couldn't come after you sooner! Saving Wes and the others was a little more important than chasing after you two murderers, but I'd say that luck ran out the second we all landed!"
The yellow-eyed archer loosed the arrow at her, and Snow threw her shield up in time to bat the projectile away before she continued on her way. She didn't want to fight him, and she hoped Frost would share that mindset: for now, they just had to escape him. Which was easier said than done: if Viper's shots weren't dead on and required them to actively dodge or deflect them, they still very narrowly grazed the Hybrids. The only reason they were as keenly aware of the projectiles was because they were sensitive to Viper's use of magic and could sense when he summoned another arrow. Still, they couldn't find a good opportunity to escape the archer with all the barricades set in their path and the turns they had to take in order to avoid them.
"It's your fault they got caught out there, Snow!" Viper roared from the rooftops, firing a trio of arrows at the pair. Frost and Snow both turned about and slashed one projectile together, splitting it into four, and then one each individually, causing each one to dissipate. "Trying a hands-off approach to killing people now, is that it?!"
"Viper, if you would just listen-!"
"Why should I listen to a monster?! Last time I gave one of you freaks a chance to talk, he tried to kill me, and Wes, and Kat and Harlin too! You've been lying to all of us this entire time, which just makes all your crimes even worse!"
The huntress tightened her grasp on her sword as Viper summoned another volley, but Frost planted a hand firmly on her shoulder before she could act.
"We don't have time. He won't listen anyways. Just run."
Snow glanced back and nodded after a moment, and they broke out into a sprint just as Viper shot at them again, the shafts embedding themselves into the ground the Hybrids stood a moment before. Viper leapt across to another, lower rooftop to continue giving chase up the street after the pair. Snow frantically glanced from side to side, only to find that there were no alleys between them and the next Guild barricade, and the officers manning it.
"Frost, we... Clear us a path. I'll handle Viper."
The Hybrid grunted in reply and raced ahead towards the barricade, while Snow split left and leapt clear up the side of the closest building, nearly two stories up. She turned upon landing, seeing Viper land on the same roof with a quick roll. He brought his bow up and aimed directly at her chest. She could see so much anger in his eyes…
"Done running, Snow? Ready to face justice, or are you going to try and kill me too?"
"Neither. You may not trust me, but I don't want to hurt you or anyone else! That's the last thing I want!"
"Is that why you left six hunters and gods-know how many Guild officers bleeding in the streets?! How could you?!"
A large blast sounded from behind them as Frost arrived at the barricade, and a number of screams could be heard along with the sound of rolling thunder. Viper's eye narrowed on her, and he trained his bow upwards.
"Guess that just adds to the count, doesn't it?"
The archer loosed a shot at her, and Snow twirled to the side, deflecting the magic projectile with her shield before ducking low and swiping her sword over the ground. A layer of ice formed beneath her blade and shot forward, covering the roof like a swarm of insects or a flood of water. Viper let out a surprised grunt as the icy wave washed over his feet and solidified, encasing his lower legs in a pair of thick icy boots that pinned him in place.
"You-!"
"I'm sorry, Viper."
The Hybrid turned and leapt down from the roof, leaving the archer to scream curses after her as she raced after Frost. Her brother had utterly ruined the barricade in their way, leaving still-smoking and some blazing pieces of wood on the ground, as well as almost a dozen red uniformed officers laying about on the street. She did her best to ignore the pools of blood forming beneath some of them. Frost nodded as she drew near, and again the pair continued on ahead before ducking into another alley for a moment's reprieve, with Frost taking the lead.
They were hardly four steps inside before another figure dropped down behind them, though. Snow whirled about quickly and brought her blade up in time to stop her assailant's rapier. It was… a surprisingly weak attempt, though. It didn't have any sort of killer intent behind it… Her eyes widened in shock as her gaze landed on her attacker's face, and for a moment pure horror filled her thoughts.
"Wes?! What- You're okay! But... Why are you-?!"
"Quiet down and listen!" he grunted. The hunter appeared incredibly beaten up, to the point where she wasn't even sure how he was standing at the moment, but his voice wasn't angry or distraught by any means. His tone seemed… lighter, though she could sense a great deal of concern coming from him too. "Northwest district, past the main market, few blocks west, there's a manor surrounded by a large caged fence. Tall white building, big stupid golden lion by the front gate, you can't miss it. Around the back, there's a hatch that leads into a shelter beneath the building. It's got some food, water, the basics. Go there, and wait for me to show up. You should be safer there than anywhere else in the city!"
The hunter broke their lock a second later, darting to the side and taking a couple quick swipes at her blade and shield, filling the air of the alley with the ring of steel, and once more they locked blades.
"One more thing: I'm going to need you to knock me out."
"But-! Wait, if you aren't… come with us!"
"I can't help you later if it's known that I'm helping you now! Now hurry up, the Gems are after you both too! Sapphire might be able to convince at least one of them to help her cart me back to HQ if I'm 'hurt'. It'll cut down on pursuers at least."
Like it or not, he had a point. She nodded after a moment, and the hunter pulled back and traded a couple more false swipes with her, locking blades after the fourth metallic clash.
"Now, make it as convincing as you can, but… well, at least try to go easy on me, alright? I don't have much, but I've got a pretty face going for me, and I'd prefer to keep it that way."
"Guess you'll see in the morning. Thanks, Wes. We'll be waiting on you."
The pair broke their lock, and the hunter purposely left his guard wide open for her. Snow darted forwards and tossed her sword aside before slamming her fist into Wes' cheek. Wes was thrown back out of the alley with a shout, sword flying from his grasp as he stuck the ground and rolled into the building opposite, slamming against the wall behind him. The hunter weakly gave her a thumbs up before his arm went limp and he passed out.
"Alright, we've got a haven… for now. Let's go, Frost."
"It's best we split up," he said as they ran up the alley and across the street into another space between the buildings, hearing the shouts of other hunters and Guild officers coming up the street towards their last position. "Head to the manor at dark. Nightfall will help cover our tracks."
"Good plan. Just… if you can, avoid killing anyone. The White Devil doesn't need a growing body count."
"…I'll try. Stay safe."
"You too, brother."
Stepping off the airship gangway, York couldn't help but feel like something was off. The sea breeze of Moga was the same as always, even if it had been a while since he'd last been here. It'd been… about a month now, right. Too long, in his opinion. Still, it was necessary. Even after his trip into the Oath Keeper's desert hideout, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that the Brilliant Darkness- or some other group like it- was still out there, plotting something with the Dire Dragongems. Most of them were in Loc Lac, under heavy guard by the Guild, so a part of him felt at ease, but then there was the part of him that knew just how far someone with the aims would be willing to go to attain them.
So he had begun looking into any other hideouts the Guild had found that seemed to match the style of the Keeper's, a search that had taken him across the country and back twice now. Each hideout was hardly much of a hideout when he arrived- indeed, some hadn't even been there at all, save for a few heavily eroded stones, all that remained from the march of time. Still, those were the more disappointing turnouts, considering there was nothing important to be found in a couple rocks, much less anything that would give him any leads.
This trip hadn't turned out anymore fruitful, unfortunately. He'd been to the locations of three different hideouts in western Venatoria, only one of them in any condition to explore, and within any texts he managed to find that hadn't been long since destroyed or eaten away by time had nothing to say about the Brilliant Darkness. He was surprised to find mention of a previous member of his family that had been responsible for the death of the Alatreon a couple hundred years back, and that he was known throughout the order as 'the Wolf', but save for that, nothing of interest was to be found.
At the very least, his attempt to piece together a family tree was coming along nicely.
The hunter began to make his way across the pier and into the main market square, stretching his neck to get the usual uncomfortable stiffness out. He still couldn't get rid of that awful feeling in the air, though. Despite the normality of the community, and the usual hustle and bustle of merchants and buyers shouting for others to come and look at their prices, everything seemed… different. Oddly, he felt he had grown accustomed to that 'different' simply because he always felt it when something bad was about to happen. It kept him on edge, but it never quite pointed him in the direction he needed to go. He just had the fortune- or misfortune- to blunder upon the events as they occurred.
While it occurred to him that he hadn't picked Rose up a souvenir when he was out on this long trek, he knew that wasn't the cause of this feeling. That level of dread was on another plane entirely. But this… The hunter narrowed his eye and continued towards his home, rolling his shoulder to fix the strap holding his pouch to his back, and using that motion to glance behind him. No one suspicious stood out to him, save for that woman at the stand with the red banner that insisted her prices were always thirty percent off when they were usually only ten at best.
He slowly dragged his gaze through the crowd, yet no one stood out to him. It was just business as usual, it seemed. His mind wandered briefly towards his son in Loc Lac- he recalled feeling this 'different' when Wes had gotten himself into trouble with the Silver Rathalos all those months back- something told him that wasn't it. It was something here, in Moga, on the island.
He thought on it more as he headed up the cramped street towards his home. While it was hard to find many words to describe it, the best way he could put it was that it felt like something was there that shouldn't be, something old. Something… familiar. Apart from that, though, he was completely at a loss.
"I'd say all the time away from home is getting to me, but somehow I doubt that's the case," he sighed, glancing upwards at the blue sky and the occasional puffy white cloud. Really, he was checking for movements on the rooftops, yet once again he saw nothing. It was like-
A shrill scream from up the street immediately drew York's attention, and after hearing a gunshot, he broke into a sprint, shoving and dashing his way through the crowd as some of the people began to hurry in the opposite direction, away from whatever happened. While he managed to avoid running headlong into anyone, the hunter did almost shove one unlucky soul to the ground with his spiked shoulder pauldron, though he hardly spared a glance at the guy. He eventually made his way up the street and out of the crowd before dashing towards his home. The door was open wide, and as he neared, three figures dressed in black robes darted out of the building, almost as if in a panic, and began racing up the street, one taking to the rooftops while others remained on the ground.
"ROSE!"
He immediately rushed to the front door of his home and glanced inside frantically, only to be met with the sight of his wife standing over a pair of black robed individuals, his father's pure blade in one hand and a heavily dented frying pan in the other. She glanced up at the sight of him, relief washing away the panicked, yet infuriated expression she had.
"What the hell happened here?!"
"These thugs just broke the door down and stormed in here! One of them went into your workroom, but I was a little busy handling these ones to stop them."
"Did you… kill them?"
"They'll WISH they were dead once I start asking some questions!"
"I… guess that answers the obligatory 'are you alright, sweetheart'… I'm going after the other three."
"Wait!"
York stopped in the doorway and glanced back inside as Rose tossed the frying pan aside and grabbed the pure blade's scabbard, sheathing the blade and tossing it over to him. He snapped his arm up and caught the weapon, sliding it into the loop on the back of his belt.
"Give them hell, York."
"And your regards. Same thing, really."
York pursued the robed figures as best he could: he just had to follow the sounds of people yelling in surprise or shock after sighting one of them, though eventually he realized they had taken to the tops of the buildings to escape without as much pedestrian interference. Even after taking to the rooftops himself, York still wasn't able to catch up to them, though it only took about a minute or so for him to realize the three were heading towards Moga Woods. He soon reached the bridge leading towards the woods, catching sight of two of the figures lagging behind the third.
He grunted and hurried across the bridge and up the path towards the hunting grounds, pulling his hood up as he broke past the gate and began to follow whatever tracks the robed figures left behind. A broken branch here, upturned stones there, a couple boot prints pressed into the occasional patch of soft earth. Mostly things that could easily be missed on account of the similar trails left by hunters going to and from the island, but he'd long since learned to pick out the minutest differences over the years. Plus, some of the tracks seemed very... heavy, based on how noticeably they imprinted the ground and, in some cases, left cracks in stone.
He headed down the path into a small glade, split by a large stream running through the middle that flowed into a narrow stone pass that opened up into a cliff with a waterfall cascading into a larger pond far below. He slid to a stop at the edge of the stream, kicking a few stones into the water. One of the black-robed figures was standing opposite him, brandishing a dark metal broadsword. York couldn't make out any significant features beneath the man's hood on account of the cloth face mask he wore, though he supposed that wouldn't be an issue in a few moments.
"This is just a mess," the man growled. York could immediately tell that this individual was far younger than he was, a fact that was rather odd to him, all things considered. "We were going to use your wife as leverage, but she just had to go and fight back! It doesn't help that she was formidable enough to take down two of us. With a bloody frying pan of all things!"
"It's your fault for thinking Rose is any less capable of kicking the shit out of creeps like you than she was twenty years ago," York scoffed in response. A light rustle and a crack alerted him to the second robed figure in the trees above, moving into position above him. The hunter barely contained a smirk, deciding he might as well play along and milk this guy for information while he thought they had the advantage. "So, the Brilliant Darkness is back, is that it? What's your game this time, buddy? Worshipping a sock puppet this time? Wanna toss a soul into that and call it your god?"
"As funny as that may be, no. We don't have the same goal in mind as your old foes, we just share a common enemy in you. Plus, finding an opening to acquire your Dire Dragongem was far more difficult than we would have liked, for various reasons."
"Well, called that one." The movements in the trees were slowing down a little as the second man neared, though York could still get a good idea of where he was from the shadows moving about on the ground. "Knew I shoulda gone back to grab the thing before I left. Since I know one of you has it, and it probably isn't the guy playing decoy, where is the thing? I don't like keeping ancient evil artifacts floating around for too long. Tends to cause a lot of bullshit."
"Our… 'special' ally has it in his care. Not that it matters much. Even if you stood a chance against him, you won't be alive long enough to catch up with him. He's well on his way to a nice high spot for extraction."
"Heh, you are just full of it, aren't you? First off, you've told me literally EVERYTHING I asked for."
He heard the man from above leap from his perch. Twenty feet up. Drew a similar broadsword as his friend's as he hit the fifteen mark. York sidestepped at ten. The second robed figure plunged his sword into the earth where York stood a moment before, letting out a shocked grunt as the hunter rushed him and struck him across the face with a couple jabs. York slammed a fist into his gut and knocked him back into the stream with a quick roundhouse kick, causing a rather sizeable splash as the man hit the water.
"Secondly, you assumed I'd be easy to kill."
York strode over to where the man's sword was still stuck in the earth, yanked it free, and tossed it towards the robed figure as he pushed himself out of the water, yelping in surprise as the dark metallic broadsword splashed next to him.
"And not even counting those things, you also broke into my home, attacked my wife, stole from me, and in general really ruined the 'welcome home' atmosphere I was looking forward to after a long trip. In summation, ya done fucked up. Care for a crash course in just how badly you did?"
"Don't you mock us!" the first man roared, racing towards the hunter with his blade at his side. As the second got to his feet, he cupped his hands together, and his partner leapt into his palms. The man hurled his ally into the air, who then flipped twice and slashed down at York as he fell. The display was certainly impressive, but York easily sidestepped the obvious swing, grabbed hold of the guy's robes, turned about, and slammed him into the ground over his shoulder. The padded armor he wore probably saved him from the worst of it, but York still heard a few of the man's ribs pop from the impact.
"You telegraph yourself way too much, kid."
His ally rushed him from behind, letting out a loud war cry as he splashed out of the water and took a swing at York's back. The hunter ducked beneath the attack and darted to the side, clapping his hands together twice as he pushed himself back up. With a frustrated yell, the man swung again, only to find his arm caught in the older hunter's grip when York darted towards him. The one-eyed man struck his opponent with a quick backhand jab to the forehead, stunning him, and twisted the robed figures arm around, pinning his sword arm behind him and putting him into a headlock in one clean move.
"Don't get reckless just because you have a good position."
York launched the man forward onto his stomach with a kick. The first man skirted around his ally as he hit the ground and rushed towards the hunter, hopping to the left and twisting to the side in an attempt to catch him off guard with a spinning thrust. Again, York saw the attack coming from a mile away: he twisted his head out of the way and lashed out with his leg, planting his shin firmly in the fork of the man's legs with enough force to make him jump about a foot into the air with a loud yelp of pain. The hunter grabbed hold of his arm and turned to the side, raised his arm for a moment, then dropped it on the robed figure's with enough force to break the man's sword arm at the elbow, immediately followed by a bloodcurdling scream and the sword dropping to the ground beside him.
"Man, who taught you people how to fight?" York scoffed, shoving the man to the side and kicking him into the stream. "Do you even know the fundamentals? Cuz you really aren't making a strong case for yourselves right now. You're nothing compared to the guys I fought a couple decades ago."
The second man had recovered by then and tried rushing York from behind once again, maintaining enough sensibility to not scream his head off this time. Still, his attempt to attack the hunter was almost no different, and York easily ducked below the attack again, planting one hand on the dropped sword's handle while striking the handle of his attacker's with an upwards kick, knocking the weapon free from his grip and sending it spinning through the air. While the man was recoiling from the strike, York pushed himself up and turned about, driving the blade straight through the man's gut. A loud squelching noise sounded when he twisted the blade, and York finished the man off by releasing the handle and lightly pushing him down with a palm to the shoulder.
He raised an arm up and caught the blade that was still flipping through the air by the handle in a reverse grip before turning around and immediately hurling the weapon at the first robed figure, just as he was struggling back to his feet. By the time he realized the weapon was sailing towards him, it was too late for the wounded man to evade: the sword struck him in the chest tip-first, embedding itself deeply into his body. The man staggered for a moment and brought his unbroken arm up to the sword for a moment before collapsing to his knees, then face first into the stream. A steady flow of blood began to seep into the water and run downstream. York kicked the man's body out of the water as he strode past.
"That was incredibly disappointing," York sighed dejectedly, shaking his head for a moment before rushing off down the path. He had a feeling he knew just which 'high point' that robed man had been referring to. It was the only one large and flat enough to make landing an airship of any size at all viable, without running the risk of it being a wyvern's nest. It took him a few more minutes than he would have liked, but soon York arrived at the base of the staggered cliff that led up to the overhang he took the apprentices to before their exam. He just barely caught sight of the third dark robed figure leaping up into the tunnel leading into plain. There weren't any airships in sight, and none he could hear at least: he still had some time.
The hunter quickly set about scaling the cliff, occasionally using the hook on his wrist blade to pull himself up the steeper ledges or activating Spirit Mode for a split second to leap up a few of them at a time. He reached the top in under a minute, and York quickly booked it through the tunnel, arriving on the plateau in just a few more seconds. Across from him stood the third figure. He appeared a bit bulkier than the other two guys York had fought, and he had a long black sheath strapped to his belt. He slowly turned towards York, moving in a strangely jerky manner, though he didn't make a move to draw his weapon. York thought he could see a faint red glow beneath his hood and face mask.
"Well well. Looks like you've got nowhere to run now. Why don't you hand over the Dire Dragongem, and maybe I won't leave you groveling on the floor with your own sword stuck through your chest like your other two accomplices?"
The figure cocked its head slightly and turned towards the hunter fully, again moving in a strangely erratic way. He didn't respond to York's comment, though, nor did he make any moves towards his weapon or the rounded pouch on his belt that York presumed the gem was stored in. He just stared blankly and unmovingly.
"Hmph. Quiet type, huh? Fine by me. Just means you'll go out silently too."
York drew his dual blades as he walked towards the man, uncertain of this opponent's prowess compared to his allies. They seemed to imply he was superior, and the way that one guy referred to him as their 'special ally' didn't really help much. Without really knowing what to expect, York figured it would be best to try and finish this fight as quickly and cleanly as possible. He rushed towards the figure and feinted to the side with his left hand sword, lashing out with the right as soon as he was within striking range.
Before the blue blade connected, though, the figure's arm shot up and stopped the swing with its forearm. The blade barely even sunk into its flesh, only succeeding in cutting the cloth covering its body. York's eye widened for a moment, though he continued the attack with a quick upwards swipe of his green sword. The figure's right arm shot out then, and the edge of York's sword grated against the figure's palm like it was striking metal. Before York could pull the blade away, the figure gripped the upper end of the sword and twisted its wrist, shattering the upper half of the crystalline blade like it was glass. The hunter grunted in shock before leaping backwards in time to avoid a quick chop of his opponent's hand. He backpedaled to a stop before raising the shattered weapon up to inspect the blade.
"Not again… I keep telling you people, these things are expensive!"
York pulled his arm back and hurled the ruined weapon at the figure before rushing him once again. The figure's arm snapped back to its sheath and drew a black, straight single-edged sword with a few peculiar bolts lining the silver edge of the weapon. It swung at the projectile and batted the broken sword to the side with almost uncanny reaction time, though the attempt had offered York an opening to slash his blue saber across his opponent's chest. Again, though, the weapon didn't cut deeply at all, simply tearing a long line through the figure's robes. It didn't even stagger backwards from the attack. The figure swung at him immediately, and York darted backwards while raising his weapon defensively.
What followed simultaneously relieved and terrified him. The black blade sliced clean through York's saber at the middle, like a hot knife through butter. Had he been standing there, he was fairly certain the attack probably would have done the same to him. He hopped back a few more paces and tossed his broken saber aside, flexing his fingers apprehensively.
"So, tough armor, and a sword that can cut through anything? I can match you in one of those areas."
The hunter reached back and pulled his father's sword from his belt, spinning the sheathed weapon about once and gripping the top of the scabbard solidly. He'd practiced some of Virgil's techniques over the months, and while he doubted his skill was quite that good, he had a feeling his own twist on the style helped bridge the gap. He took a deep breath and began to stride towards the figure once more, narrowing his eye on his opponent as he drew closer. The man was so oddly still and unmoving… It was like he was-
York's eye shot open as the robed figure lunged towards him faster than he was expecting, and he quickly stepped to the side to avoid the thrust. The figure swiped its sword at him immediately after, and York rolled to the side, stopping in a crouch and turning about as Spirit Mode flared to life around him for a moment. He appeared to barely pull the blade from its sheath before slamming it back inside, then drew it fully, swinging the weapon diagonally upwards at his opponent's weapon. The blades clashed with a horrible grating noise, but both weapons held fast as they locked against each other.
"There's more to that thing than I thought if it can stand up to this pure blade…" York grunted, pressing against his attacker in an effort to shove him back. A grin split his lips a second later though. "But what about your armor?"
He glanced down for a short second, just in time to see a cross-shaped cut split the front of his attacker's robes, a result of the two quick attacks he had thrown out under the effect of Spirit Mode. While York didn't see any blood, the attack had certainly opened up the front of the figure's robes now, revealing his 'armor' was actually a peculiar grey and yellow padded bodysuit of sorts. What really caught York's eye, though, was the glowing red gem embedded in the figure's chest.
"What the… another Dire Dragongem?! How-?!"
York grunted as his opponent used the opportunity to shove him back, and the hunter was forced onto the defensive as the robed individual rushed him, taking a swing at his side. He snapped his own blade into place and blocked the swing, turning to the side and striking the figure's head with his weapon's scabbard, though it only resulted in a dull thunk, like it had struck a helm. He grimaced before lashing out with his leg and striking his attacker in the stomach, forcing him back a step from the impact and giving York time to resheath his weapon. The figure advanced on him again, though, not even seeming winded by the blow.
"The more I find out about you, the more questions I have," York huffed, strafing around his opponent to keep himself from getting boxed in. He narrowed his gaze on the figure as he did so, trying to truly size his opponent up. His armor and weapon both resisted the pure blade somehow, his sword managed to slice clean through York's dual blades, he apparently had another Dire Dragongem embedded in his chest, and his movements… while they had initially been jerky and unnatural, now they seemed almost familiar to him.
The hunter readied himself as his foe lunged at him once more, intending to skewer him on the length of his black blade. York swung his sheathed blade upwards and batted the attack away, successfully smacking his opponent across the face with the blunt scabbard with the split second opening he had, though the figure retaliated immediately. York swiftly drew his blade and met his opponent's slash, locking blades with him for a moment before skirting around to his opponent's flank, making the figure stumble forwards a pace. The hunter attempted to follow up with a slash to his opponent's torso, but the robed figure righted himself swiftly enough to deflect York's attack and take a swing at the hunter. He managed to leap back in time to avoid having the blade slice into his chest, though the tip of the blade just barely nicked York's chin, drawing a stream of blood and making him hiss in pain. He brought a hand up to the wound for a moment before returning his gaze to his opponent, sliding his sword back into its scabbard with an audible schink.
This felt entirely too familiar to the hunter… the manner in which his opponent moved and attacked, his stance, even the way this fight was playing out. There was a difference here and there, but he had relived that fight for years after it had occurred. But his opponent now couldn't possibly be the same one as then, right? York was the only one to survive that encounter. He was sure of it. And yet…
"If that's the case, this is the most solid ghost I've ever seen in my life…" he mumbled, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before gripping the handle of his sword. "But ghost or not… Zeal, if that's really you, and if you can understand me, I know you don't want this for yourself… Whatever 'this' is."
The hunter darted towards the figure and hopped to the side to avoid a swing of his opponent's blade, drawing his sword as he did and taking a swing at the robed figure's neck. He noticed the gem embedded in the figure's chest glowed brighter for a moment, and York felt resistance beneath his blade as it sliced through the garment: that would have been a beheading strike otherwise, but his blade was actually repelled!
York leapt back as his opponent swiped at him once more, sheathing his blade as he landed. Another section of the figure's robes were beginning to fall away, revealing another patch of its grey and yellow body suit, as well as a portion of a white helm or mask of sorts. Somehow, the Dire Dragongem in his chest must have been helping deflect his blows before they could properly connect, like a barrier around the figure's body. It wasn't as explosive or destructive as the time back in the Keeper's hideout, but that could have been because he wasn't specifically targeting the gem… which wouldn't be a smart idea this time around.
"No holding back."
The white aura of Spirit Mode flared to life around the hunter before he dashed towards his foe once more, this time several times faster than the human eye could follow. His attacks came out fast enough that it didn't even seem as though he had swung more than once, though as he slid to a stop behind the robed figure and slammed his sword back into its sheath, six separate cuts appeared across his garment, leaving several sections in ribbons. Even after that, his opponent didn't seem wounded at all: both turned to face one another, and the figure reached up and gripped the remainder of the robes around its chest before tearing them away.
As York thought, the man was wearing a full body suit that shared the same yellow and grey coloration throughout, save for the right arm from the elbow down, which was black with red 'veins' running along it. The helm he wore appeared vaguely skull-like; at least, the jaw did, blocky as it was. The majority of the helm was like a rounded box of sorts, not much larger than a human skull, but extended a bit farther forwards to accommodate a second Dire Dragongem lodged into the face plate. York's eyes narrowed as his foe adopted a familiar fighting stance.
"Two gems? What is going on in Loc Lac right now… I take it you won't be providing me an explanation, will you?" The armored figure only replied by edging towards the hunter, blade raised. "Didn't think so."
He crouched low as his opponent rushed towards him again, and York parried the figure's thrust with his weapons scabbard while simultaneously twisting to the side, drawing the blade and swinging for his neck. The being matched his turn, though, and their blades clashed in a shower of sparks and the ringing of steel. The red gem embedded in its helm seemed to glow brighter for a moment, and suddenly the figure launched into an all-out offensive, swinging from above and below, left and right. York grunted from the effort of matching his foe, trying to find any openings to counterattack through. Eventually he was forced to disengage entirely and leap back to avoid a swing that could very well have taken his head off had he not dodged in time, and he sheathed his sword once more with a low breath. His opponent was strong, way stronger than he would have guessed. Just blocking all of those attacks left his arm twinging with discomfort.
"Not one to quit, are you… You, who I once called 'friend'. Ring any bells, Zeal?"
The being he felt was his old friend merely responded by swiping its blade to the side and storming towards him. York furrowed his brow as a number of prongs seemed to sprout from Zeal's left arm as he approached, though he pulled his attention back to the figure at large as Zeal rushed him at a blistering pace. York ducked beneath the man's swipe and prepared to counterattack, but seeing his free arm heading for his throat, York instead rolled to the side and turned about. His opponent had struck the wall behind where the hunter stood with an open palm, though not really hard enough to leave a mark or anything. Was Zeal just trying to stun him with that, or-
York yelped in shock as a burst of energy erupted from Zeal's palm, practically shattering the stone in a ten foot radius and sending bits of stone flying, as well as causing the ground to shake for a moment or two. The hunter eyed the wall with a stunned expression as Zeal pulled his arm free of the ruined rocks, causing a few to tumble down from the wall and into the grass between them. He flexed his hand for a moment before slowly approaching the hunter once more.
"So, left arm can cause blasts powerful enough to shatter solid stone. That's concerning."
York readied himself as Zeal drew near, but before his opponent could attempt another attack, York went on the offensive, drawing his blade and swiping it across the man's torso twice in a split second. A faint red barrier seemed to emanate from the spots his blade would have cut, and the gems in Zeal's helm and chest plate glowed a touch brighter as well: perhaps this suit used the gems as a shield of sorts too? But if the suit used the power of the gems to run all of this… That resource was finite. York backstepped and sheathed his sword when Zeal swung at him again, the blade reaching close enough to cut a few strands of hair from his face.
"I'm going to do it right this time!"
With the opening clear, York activated Spirit Mode and drew his sword, launching into what could only be described as a blistering gale of sword swings. The movements of his arms as he rapidly slashed at Zeal were dizzying, and his sword was moving fast enough that the pure blade was leaving white after trails from where the blade had been many swipes before. York swung countless times in a matter of seconds before sheathing his blade, leaving Zeal standing motionless for a second as the red barrier over his chest seemed to register the strikes.
"End of the line!"
With a powerful shout, York whipped the blade from its sheath and struck Zeal across the chest with it, shattering the red barrier as though it were glass and sending his opponent careening back into the tree several yards behind. He struck with enough force to crack the trunk slightly before falling to the ground below, dropping his sword beside him. Zeal struggled upright after a moment or two and looked up at York, giving the hunter an excellent view of the mostly-dim gemstone in his helm. He reached towards his belt with his right arm and undid the pouch on the front before procuring the stolen Dire Dragongem from within. Zeal shakily raised the gemstone up towards York, almost like he was… giving it to him.
"Did I… get through to you?" York twirled his blade about in his fingers before sheathing it, deactivating Spirit Mode and approaching the figure. Zeal made no movements, though: he was chillingly still, completely contrasting how dexterous and fluid he was just moments ago. The hunter warily approached the man and knelt down before reaching towards the glowing gemstone clutched in his grasp.
The moment before his fingers touched the stone, though, the light within flared up, causing York to stumble back in surprise and shield his eye with his arm. He lowered the limb quickly enough to see Zeal had launched towards him, flipping forwards and bringing his heel down at York in a powerful axe kick. The hunter was forced to block the strike with his left arm, and he barely contained a pained shout as he felt the strike connect with enough force to crack the bone in his wrist. He was sent sliding back from the impact, spewing a string of curses as he came to a stop.
"That's EXACTLY what I get for lowering my guard," he hissed, glancing down at his wounded wrist and wincing as a wave of pain shot up his arm. "Son of a bitch!"
He returned his attention to his opponent as Zeal planted his left hand on the ground, and the prongs extended once more before another eruption of energy rocked the grassy platform they were standing on, breaking through the soil and tearing up the vibrant green grass as a number of fissures split outwards from the blast. The ground practically felt like it was falling out from beneath him, and York stumbled to maintain his footing as the section of ground he stood on tilted sideways a few inches, grimacing as his foot slid dangerously close to the edge of the fissure. The sound of engines brought his attention to the side, and York gasped in shock as a black-blimped airship pulled into view from the other side of the mountain, coming to a near-halt on the opposite side of the ruined meadow.
York watched as the side of the ship opened up, seeing a single figure standing within. The figure was wearing dark robes like the rest, though he was holding a strange device in his hands instead of a weapon.
"Zealot. Return."
York glanced sideways in time to see Zeal's head crane upwards, and the armored figure stooped down to pick up his sword before darting across the platform and leaping into the opening of the airship, causing the vessel to rock slightly before it pulled away from the cliff. York took a step forwards to pursue, though he flinched as the ground beneath his foot seemed to sink under his weight, and he felt another section of the platform fall away. He glanced back up at the ship as the side of the airship began to close up, and the black-robed figure within gave a taunting wave towards him.
"This experiment was a true success, Sir York! I thank you for your final contribution towards the betterment of society!"
The hatch closed fully then, and the ship took off before York could attempt to try and board. But that man's voice… It was familiar to him! Where had he heard that voice before… And that ship… it couldn't have been…
"Did that airship belong to the Master Corps?!" he hissed, clutching at his wounded limb. "What the hell is going on with the Guild right now?!"
The hunter yelped as the earth shifted again, and this time the entire platform began to fall away in a cascade of soil, grass, and stone. He turned and began to race towards the tunnel leading down the mountain, but his own exhaustion and wounds held him back. The hunter slipped on a faltering section of earth and found himself dragged down over the edge of the cliff. He grunted in pain as he was thrown into free fall. He didn't have to look down to know the drop from this height was fatal.
As he tumbled downwards, though, he caught a glimpse of his father's sword tumbling in the air above him. Maybe it was just his imagination, some grand delusion in the face of peril, but he almost felt like he could make out his father's figure around the weapon, reaching out towards him…
"I think I… could use a hand this time around…"
York raised his uninjured arm up towards the apparition, towards the sword, and for a brief moment their hands connected. York grunted in shock as he felt himself whipped back towards the cliffside, a tight grip on his extended hand. Though he thought he was about to slam into the side of the cliff, he felt something beside him cushion the impact before he began to slide down the cliff. The hunter was forced to twist his body to avoid any protruding rocks and branches as he whipped towards the forest below. He was once more thrust into open air as he reached the base of the cliff, just above the treetops, though before he struck any of the trunks or limbs within he felt another phantom presence catch him and lower him through the twisting canopy. York dropped from the grip after a few moments, but another caught him before he fell more than a few feet, and eventually the hunter found himself landing in a pool of water with a loud splash. It took him a moment to surface, and he inhaled deeply upon coming to the surface before dragging himself to the shore of the pond some distance panted heavily for a few moments, mostly out of panic but partially out of disbelief. He raised his head up after regaining his breath.
His eye widened at the sight of two ghostly white apparitions standing before him. One stood about a head taller than the other, and both wore hooded cloaks that York felt he'd seen all too often in his father's memories: the garb of the Oath Keepers. The taller apparition had a long object clutched in its left hand, which York realized was a sword much like his own, while the shorter had a smaller object clutched at its breast. He couldn't make out any features beneath their hoods, and yet… the way they stood and carried themselves, the invisible gazes he felt from below both of their cloaks.
"What the… You can't be…"
The shorter, feminine apparition raised her free hand and pointed towards the hunter's pouch. After a short moment, he reached inside and procured the Mark of the Oath: the pure gemstone was shining brilliantly for some reason. York stared intently at the glowing orb, curiously finding that it wasn't really a 'blinding' light, before glancing back up at the apparitions. The pair approached him and knelt down to his level before nodding towards him and raising their hands to the Mark clutched in his palm. As their hands rested atop the gem, the apparitions dissipated into a golden-white mist of sorts, but instead of just fading into nothingness, the remains of the taller apparition shot towards the sheathed blade resting beside the hunter, while that of the shorter figure shot towards the dagger sheathed at York's chest. Both weapons glowed for a moment or two before dimming out, and the gemstone in his hand likewise returned to its normal appearance.
The hunter stared dumbfoundedly at the gemstone in his palm for several minutes, unable to comprehend what just happened. Those apparitions… they couldn't REALLY have been… could they?
When… if the time comes… We will help you. Your father and I both… If you ever need us, your parents will be right at your side…
"Mother… and Father too…" York glanced between the gemstone and the two blades before chuckling lightly, feeling a single tear streak down the side of his face. "Guess you were serious about that after all, huh? Thanks for the save. And… well, for keeping good on that promise." The hunter brought his hand up and wiped his face, taking hold of his father's sword afterwards and pushing himself upwards with a grimace.
"Alright, let's get to the bottom of this, shall we?"
Author Notes: Please review! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, it's a new Master Corps chapter! And as I mentioned in the supplementary chapter I released the other day, things really start to get darker from here on, if you couldn't tell already from the first part of the chapter. A certain snake isn't exactly a happy camper right now, at least!
But this was a mostly York-centered chapter, so let's talk old protagonist! I'll be honest, writing the Iaijitsu moves was a lot more fun than I thought it would be. I was pretty excited to write this fight for a long while, since its the first glimpse of just what kind of threat the Zealot is. Long-time fans that read my first story might recognize the choreography of a part this fight. I wonder if any of you can make the connection?
Kind of unintentionally, it's becoming something of a running gag for Adlers to complain about the expense of their weapons whenever one gets broken or lost. York mentioned it first back in THO when Alteos shattered his sword, which was referenced in this chapter, but I realize Silver/Wes got in on it last chapter too. Happy coincidence.
I initially planned to cut the chapter at the "fatal drop" line, but I figured everyone would know that York would survive somehow, given who he is, so instead I felt it would be sensible to just introduce his new ability now: Spirit Bond. Think sort of like DMC's Doppelganger style, except not really 'clones' of York. Uniquely, it's the only ability that actually doesn't have drawbacks. No life draining, no excessive fatigue, nothing. Well, York can't use Spirit MODE with it activated, but summoning two spectral warriors to help him in combat kinda balances that out I feel.
Lastly, the theme for this chapter's fight was Ultra Violet from the first Devil May Cry, not to be confused with Super Ultra Violet.
Playing: Pokemon Sun, Monster Hunter Generations, DMC, DmC
Listening to: Blue Stahli, Celldweller, Too much Christmas music