Disclaimer: One Piece is the property of Eiichiro Oda. Many of the characters in this story are property of me. Do not use this story or its characters without my permission. Thank you.
"Ha!?" Bard grunted. "Aren't you gonna attack me?" he asked. The militia had all spears and swords pointed at him in a tight, fearful circle. The last three men who rushed Bard were subjects to his iron tough fists and his magical, air-cutting kicks. Those three had been carried off the battlefield and quartered in a random villagers house.
"Keep the line tight, men!" the captain of the guard shouted. "We mustn't let this cur pass into the village until the Argent Fist has come!"
"The village?" Bard repeated. "But I came from there!"
"Guh..." the captain grunted stupidly. Now that that idea for morale was out the window, he thought of a new phrase to inspire his men to hold fast their defenses. "Regardless, we can't allow him to associate and taint the minds of the fair villagers!"
"I met someone down there already" Bard noted. "He's a nice guy."
"Damn you, pirate!" the captain shouted. "Let us forget this notion of lines and holding, and destroy him now!" The militia, at the captain's order, stood shaking in their rattling armor. The idea of rushing this huge, terribly strong man was a sure path to a quick decimation. "I said NOW!" the captain screamed again. The soldiers shouted their wordless battle cries at Bard, still not rushing, then they marched forward with weapons ready.
"That's better" Bard said. He saw all the weapons at him and made his instantaneous plan. He raised up his leg, drew it back behind him and made a wide, sweeping kick with the roar of "RANKYAKU!" The soldiers in front of him flew back. Their metal armor was split open, their chests leaked blood, and the entire section of the closing line was thrown through the air. Then, still using the energy from his spinning kick, Bard turned around on his toes and Made a kick straight up, breaking the weapons that the soldiers pointed at him. Now unarmed,the soldiers lost heart and all ran away.
"How did he...?" the captain awed. He angrily shook off his appreciation and reiterated, "How dare ye!?"
"'Ye'??" Bard repeated, hopping around on his foot to the enraged captain of the guard he so effortlessly defeated. "What's a 'ye'? What's a 'thou'? What the hell language are you people speaking!?"
"I shall vanquish th-" the captain began, but hearing his opponent's protest, he decided to downgrade his language to cement his challenge. "ye-you...knave!"
"What's a 'knave'?" Bard asked innocently.
"Art thou slow in the head, gold-headed demon spawn!?" the captain screamed. He dropped his weapon, removed his metal breastplate and left his muscular torso exposed like Bard's. Bard just blinked at him and put up his fists. "Prepare for my wrath!" The captain ran forward with his fists up and ready. Bard leaned forward and dodged the first punch, letting it sail over his shoulder. Then, he snapped to the side and caught the captain's fist between his forearm and bicep.
"You're wrath's kinda weak" Bard pointed out. The guard captain was lifted from the ground as Bard shot back up and used his back muscles to toss him over shoulder and send him barreling through the air. The captain went into and through the weak walls of the nearby barracks while Bard stood bored in the clear, open grounds. "That was kinda fun, but these guys can't fight very well." To that effect, Bard rested on the ground, sitting on his toes and keeping his legs bent in front.
I wonder Bard began to himself, how everyone's doing right now. I bet Rez and Zan are getting into a fight over setting up camp...Araly's probably to afraid to set foot on land. I hope the crew isn't getting overwhelmed with the bears. I liked those bears. I wonder how they taste... His incidental trip aside, reminding himself of his crew's health gave him the minor incentive necessary to read his Rokushiki book. He pulled it out and started reading the next major section of martial arts while, unknown to him,the Argent Fist was preparing to march him down.
"I hate you" Rez grumbled.
"No" Zan said, "you hate the idea of me. You actually like me."
"Shut the hell up" Rez growled. They were upside down and side by side. Their captors circled around them, faces blemished with smoke and ash from living under the cloud that hid them. Most of the coughed in the covert shrubs, obvious signs of rampant sickness from close-quartered living in the swampland. On a wooden throne, built out of a mighty tree at the border of the clearing, sat their leader behind a black veil of lace. His voice continued to send out low growls at brief intervals through the clearing that dissolved into the thicket.
"What should we do?" a sickly minion said to his mates behind the boys.
"I say we should burn 'em at tha stake!" another voice said. The others weakly cheered with his idea, but another one offered his own to stop the celebration.
"No, we should cut open deir legs and send 'em into tha swamp!" he growled.
"Let 'em die all slow like" another lowed.
"No..." the previous one started, "no I still say we burn 'em."
"Where's the fun in that?" the leg guy said. "We get 'em to scream a bit and then that's it?"
"Well we can't see 'em die your way at all!" the burn guy pointed out. "We just assume they die in tha swamp."
"I say" a particularly nefarious one started, "we flay 'em alive and eat their flesh in front of 'em!!!"
"NO!" the others yelled, quickly falling into coughing fits.
"It's always cannibalism with you, Bob!" one of them said between his coughs. It seemed that the constant growling of their boss proper had been drowned out with their own petty arguments.
Rez became irate and whistled loudly into the clearing. "Hey!" he shouted, "who wants to tell me what's going on here!?" The minions stared at him with arrogance, and then all was quiet when the steady growls came back from the throne.
"Oh, you're not intimidating at all, are you?" Zan mocked. Rez growled and glowered into space ahead.
"Um, sir?" the dainty, childish voice of a young woman said, "I believe I can tell you why we're here."
"Eh?" Rez grunted. A beautiful youth with curly blond hair, dressed in rags and sporting hideous boils on her arms, stepped forth.
"You see" she started, "we are the 'demons' the villagers refer to, and we are called such because of our leader-"
"Villagers?" Zan repeated. "You mean this island has a village?"
"Well" she began again, "it has a castle, doesn't it? Anyway, we're not really demons, although our appearances don't speak much for that. I used to be so pretty, oh so pretty! I won pageant after pageant, even as a little girl, and when I blossomed, I was the talk of my entire home island!"
"Can someone else talk to us" Rez asked gruffly "without talking our ears off!?"
"Don't mind him" Zan said to the girl. "He's just a moron, and you're still very pretty anyway. But, can you skip to the point please?" The girl shyly giggled and nodded to him.
"We are the Ghost Killer Pirates" she formally announced. "Almost a year ago, we came upon this island and attempted to coup the current government and ransack the resources. Unfortunately, their armed forces were able to defeat us without guns, using a sort of magic."
"Magic?" Zan began. "You're sure it's not just some Devil Fruit users?"
"Oh no!" she said, waving her red, bumpy harms. "They banish fruit users like the boss into the swamp and expect them to die! It's part of the reason we're called 'demons', you see, as our captain is a user..." She pointed over to the veiled throne, from which the growling continued.
"Should we be talking about him like this?" Rez asked.
"Oh, he's sleeping" the girl said. "He's just a very loud snorer."
"Ah" Rez said expectedly, "yeah my old captain's like that too."
"So he's a user, eh?" Zan noted. He started up his own power and phased straight through the ropes and hit the ground in front of the young woman he loomed over like a real demon. Then, taking the initiative, he drew out a blade and brought it to the girl's slender neck.
"Okay" Zan calmly started, "now I demand to speak with your captain!" The pirates all reeled and came to attention as their captain continued to snore. Zan went to the effort of getting Rez down himself by tossing his extra knife into the ropes that bound him. Rez crashed to the tough dirt headfirst and growled obscenities.
"We need to go over the chain of command again" Rez demanded weakly, face in the dirt.
"Whatever" Zan snidely remarked.
The Support Arts Pt.2: Geppou Bard read.
Geppou is based on the principals of Soru, using speed and the power of one's legs. Effective training in Geppou requires massive weight lifting concentrated on the calves and quads. The effect of Geppou is essentially a straight Soru that propels the user through the air. Being strong enough to literally kick off the air is the essence of the training. Starting from low to the ground, work from slowing the falling speed to stopping, then to reversing the speed and jumping while falling. Jumping in different directions is easier than jumping straight up. Using Geppou for extended periods can be exhausting to anyone who hasn't under gone Eiei-ibuki training.
Eiei-ibuki? Bard questioned. He probed his mind for a translation that made sense, but Endless Breath was all he came up with. Meh. Who knows...
"Whither be this heretical pirate!?" a tyrannical voice bellowed. Whatever conscious remnants of the militia that remained started to flee with great haste towards the village to quarter more houses. The Paladins marched from the castle grounds with mighty shields and hammers equipped. The tallest one, the captain of the guard, marched in front. Bard looked over his shoulder, closed his book, and stood up while stowing it back in his inner chest pocket.
"Yo!" Bard greeted. "Or, since I'm a pirate, Yo-HO!" The armored force stopped and stood their ground, weapons all ready. At least twenty muscular, or otherwise meaty looking men, were armed to the bone with shimmering, golden and pearly white armor. Their hammers, shiny metallic blue, were wrapped around the blunt end with shimmering pieces of paper. The glyphs on the paper seemed to stick out and pierce through the air around them with a sort of magical power.
"Pirate outlander" the tall captain began, "I am Arthir Blightsmiter, the leader of the Argent Fist!"
"Kay" Bard replied.
"We have been summoned" he continued "out of the welfare of the citizens of our Great King Rupert to vanquish you!"
"Kay" Bard said again. Arthir began to grind his teeth as his mighty jaw moved to and fro in anger.
"Prepare thyself" he said "for we, the holiest of knights in all the land, the Argent Fist, will fight you without mercy."
"Kay" Bard said one last time. Without changing his expecting, apathetic expression, he turned and got into position. Facing so many opponents with the intention to fight him as a fleet, Bard opted to empower his legs for rapid Rankyaku firing. His legs were spread far apart, so much that he had to stand on the edges of his feet. His arms were up and pulling at his back, ready to twist and kick at any time. His head was also kept totally relaxed, looking at his enemies from the side beyond his shoulder.
"What foreign strangeness be this?" a soldier asked.
"It matters not" Arthir said sternly. "Three-fold, ho!" At his coded command, three random soldiers charged at Bard with weapons overhead. Bard's brow slowly furrowed and his mouth quickly grinned.
