With the sun high overhead, Cetanu glanced through the Training Hall. He noticed a distinct lack of Jeritza, the man who claimed to be a 'combat professor', something that Cetanu felt was unneeded as long as him and the other mercenaries were here. They had plenty of experience and knowledge on the art of combat.
However, the absent combat professor aside, Cetanu noticed exactly what he was expecting to. Caspar was once again shouting at people, loud and annoying for what seemed to be no reason. However, this was slightly different, as today he chose to pester the Golden Deer.
The third class always seemed to be an afterthought to the Fleshcrafter, and he wondered exactly why. Was it because they weren't antagonizing him on a regular basis? Perhaps they weren't worth his time. He narrowed his eyes. That wasn't true, as Claude was someone worth paying attention to. However, his focus shifted back to Caspar, who was currently yelling at the future Archduke.
"What kind of ruler doesn't have the guts to fight one noble!? In Adrestia you'd be exiled for being a coward!" he shouted, trying to say anything he could to goad Claude. It was interesting to see for Cetanu, as the brown skinned archer simply smiled, unbothered by Caspar's poor attempts at antagonizing him.
"What kind of ruler would I be if I let some little noble get to me? I wouldn't trust myself much less expect my people to trust me." he mused, and Caspar grit his teeth. Cetanu narrowed his eyes slightly, realizing that Claude was jabbing at not only Caspar's near non-existent status, but also at his small stature. What made it worse was that Claude was one of the taller students, being almost a head taller than Caspar.
Cetanu watched closely as Caspar shouted, swinging at Claude as hard as he could. It was odd that a single insult could goad him into swinging, but Claude could be very convincing.
What Cetanu had not expected, was that someone grabbed Caspar's wrist, stopping the oddly forceful swing. When the blue haired Adrestian turned his head, he noticed that the person who stopped his punch was one of the other shorter students. His blue eyes looked into a pair of pale green eyes that complimented a pale, freckled face. The face of Lord Formorian, Ashe Ubert.
"Can you do me a favor and calm down? Some of us are trying to focus on our training." he said, releasing Caspar before glancing to Claude, who held his hands up and took a step back. This wasn't something that concerned him anymore, and he was the first person to know when it was time to get out of the way.
Caspar grit his teeth, not happy with the fact that everyone continued to get in his way. He just needed to fight one person, and for days and days he'd been unsuccessful. He was beginning to think that he was the only fighter in the entire Monastery, none of the Golden Deer or Blue Lions answering his challenge. Even the odd, white garbed members of the Blue Lions that lived underground didn't even budge.
Caspar felt like he was being mocked when a criminal living underground calling himself the 'King Of Grappling' told him that he wouldn't 'waste his time' on 'some two bit second born noble'. He'd been incensed ever since.
"Unless you plan on fighting me, you need to stay the hell out of my way! I'm fighting someone today whether they like it or not!" he shouted, and Ashe simply stared at him, Cetanu standing back and fading into the shadows as he let this press on.
His original plan was for Caspar to strike Claude, and for Victor to interfere, the War Ghoul hiding in the shadows on the opposite side of the Training Hall. However, Ashe stepping in could be a boon as well, as losing to only of the only other male students around his size would be crushing for him, and hopefully stop him if at least for a short enough while to complete the search for Flayn.
"I don't think you want to talk to the Boss like that, Shrimp."
Caspar spun, blinking before he realized that he needed to tilt his head back to look at the face of the person standing behind him, garbed in white. He remembered seeing her from a distance, and he distinctly remembered her being the shortest member of her odd looking trio. And yet, she was a massive woman that dwarfed him.
"Relax Bestla, I was looking for him anyway." he said, and the six foot one woman looked to her Lord, exhaling slowly before turning away and beginning to depart. Cetanu's eyes followed her, and he realized that he hadn't spoken to her since she was a Lieutenant in training, her progress to one of Samyaza's three Captains rather surprising to him.
Ashe turned to Caspar, the sight of the intimidating woman driving away the few stares and gazes they received. The young Lord looked to his blue haired opponent, inhaling before rolling his shoulders. "I want to offer you a deal." he said, and Caspar's brow furrowed. Ashe had heard that Caspar's academic achievements were nil, and that half of the brain work done by the young noble was him copying the notes of his smarter classmates.
"What could you have that I want?" he asked, and Ashe glanced past Caspar to see Bestla standing back, her arms folded and finger tapping on her bicep. Of the three captains, Bestla was the most fond of her Lord, to the point where you'd think that the two were childhood friends despite how much older the large woman was.
His green eyes shifted back to Caspar, briefly glancing over the physical form of the Adrestian. He could tell that Caspar was very physically fit, meaning that he was in good health, which normally meant that his blood was better tasting than most.
"We fight. If I win, you cease these foolish and embarrassing attempts to get people to fight you." he proposed, and Caspar chuckled, the first positive looking face he'd made the entire time.
"And what happens when I win?" he asked, and Ashe hummed, his eyes passing to his Sire briefly, noticing that Cetanu was not invested at all. His eyes were on Bestla, and he realized that he recognized Cetanu's protective gaze.
"If you can stop me and make me either verbally submit or keep me down to the count of ten before I can do the same to you, I will tell you every last detail about how the Professor cured me of the lethal poison and managed to restore my thought to be long gone arm."
Cetanu's focus snapped back to his Progeny. That was a very, very bold statement for him to make, and the fact that he didn't see it coming both agitated and impressed the older demon. While he was agitated that he didn't predict this outcome, he was impressed that his Progeny was not only able to surprise him, but also that he was that confident in his ability to make someone like Caspar stay down.
The blue haired male began to laugh, clenching his fists and looking to Ashe with a broad grin. "You're on Freckles! I'll even let you pick the referee!" he called, his confidence radiating almost like a bright aura.
Cetanu watched closely as they spread apart, the Training Hall almost cleared out as Bestla stood between the two warriors.
"The rules are simple, don't aim below the belt on purpose and don't die. If you submit verbally or can't make it to my count of ten, you are considered defeated. If this is agreeable to you both, nod clearly." she said, taking her position seriously as they both nodded. She took a step back and lifted her arm, glancing to both boys before bringing her arm down.
"Begin!"
As expected, Caspar made the first move, screaming at the top of his lungs and barreling forward at Ashe, who remained poised. Cetanu watched closely as Ashe simply weaved around attacks from the other male. It was curious to him, as he was confused about any of Ashe's thoughts leading into this fight.
Was Ashe seeking to prove himself on the field of battle once more, or was there something else? As Ashe landed the first blow of the bout, a quick shot to the chest that made Caspar take a step back and gasp for air, Cetanu wondered if it was something else.
He noted that ever since his Embrace, that Ashe was becoming progressively more bolder and confident. Another trait he was beginning to pick up, possibly from his food source, was selfishness. He was beginning to do things to draw attention to himself, and Cetanu wasn't sure if that was entirely a good thing.
Was this really a shot at Edelgard? Was him standing in the middle of the training field with plenty of people watching really something that he was doing to get a shot at the future Emperor? To say that he could defeat her and her allies?
Caspar finally found purchase, striking Ashe in the chest with a haymaker that sent him stumbling back. The Lordling actually lost his footing, tripping and falling to the ground, his tensed muscles and tucked chin stopping his skull from bouncing off the ground.
Bestla frowned, but when her Lord didn't get up, she had no choice but to start the count. As she counted, she noticed that Ashe was simply laying there. It wasn't him being too hurt to get up sooner, he was simply choosing to milk the count. Was this a tactic to recover? If so, it benefited Caspar more since he had the high ground.
When Ashe rose at a count of five, he blinked a couple of times before looking to Caspar. Bestla could tell that this wasn't the same look as before. It was odd to tell with her Lord, but there was something about him that seemed… inhuman almost. She noted that he almost had switches that he could flip to change his mindset and battle styles.
This wasn't the arrogant and haughty Lord Formorian that he sometimes was. This was some kind of warrior, and she had yet to see him truly engage in combat.
Ashe made the first move, dashing forward and leaping into the air, throwing a jumping right knee strike that Caspar barely avoided. He caught Ashe in a waist lock from behind, yelling again as he lifted and fell back, tossing Ashe as hard as he could.
The athletic demon managed to use Caspar's incredible power against him, as he continued to roll and land on his feet, giving him the advantage as he moved on Caspar as he rolled to his feet.
He immediately covered up, trying his hardest to protect himself from a quick series of jabs and hooks that Ashe was throwing. They hurt wherever they struck, but they were nothing compared to the blows he'd suffered in matches against his older siblings and sparring against his father. He was the most physically fit and capable member of the Black Eagles, and this was nothing to him.
Victor watched closely as Caspar lashed out and struck Ashe in the jaw with a left hook, the Lordling rolling and jabbing out with a spinning left back elbow. Caspar stumbled when struck, but he continued to press forward and strike Ashe in the chest. He watched this back and forth closely, wondering exactly what made him and Ashe so different.
They were both created by Cetanu in one way or another, turned into something more than human by the Fleshcrafter, and both of them were under his tutelage, the demon obsessed with the growth and evolution of things around him. He called it 'Metamorphosis', and it was hitting the feline now as he watched two young men batter each other for no real reason that 'Metamorphosis' was, at least to him, 'Strength'.
All things lied in strength. You could not even eat if you didn't have the strength to chew or swallow. You could not accomplish necessary tasks without the physical ability to do so. He watched Ashe strike Caspar in the shoulder with a left kick, the blue haired youth striking him in the jaw with a left punch.
Caspar could not obtain the fake Crest he was promised without 'Strength'.
Ashe recovered and struck Caspar in the throat with a right chop, closing in and hitting his temple with a sharp left elbow that made him stumble back.
Ashe could not keep his secret without 'Strength'.
That was the answer. What purpose does a 'War Ghoul' serve when there is no war? The answer was so simple, he wondered why it took a fight between children for him to realize it.
The purpose of a 'War Ghoul' was to be Strong. To rule over the average and the weak to prevent more war, more death, more sadness. His purpose was to be Cetanu's 'Strength'. An Iron Ruler at the Apex of Evolution that commanded respect and spurred the world into a peaceful age.
Caspar struck Ashe and knocked him to the ground again, Bestla hating that every single count she'd made in this fight was for her Lord. Caspar had taken blow after blow after blow, battered and bloodied from multiple cuts across his face and chest, and yet he still stood.
The Queen of Storms respected this Adrestian boy, who was able to take her Lord to a count of five, and then three, and now seven. Ashe looked worse for wear, his lip split in at least two places and one of his eyes bruised. She could tell from the grappling they'd been doing that at least one or two of Ashe's ribs was bruised as well. It was interesting to her to say the least, but she still held faith in Ashe.
Cetanu had watched the entire thing as it unfolded and continued before his eyes, and he was wondering exactly what kind of training the short blue haired boy did, because he was able to match the young demon without the most issue. It was commendable and very respectable, and Cetanu knew that he'd sooner or later like to mentor the blue haired boy, see exactly where his Path would take him.
His eyes moved to Victor at the thought, and he realized that Victor had an entirely different aura bout him. The scent of indecision and worry about him was completely evaporated, replaced by a determined aura that exuded strength. Cetanu narrowed his eyes slightly, a small smile spreading across his lips. This was exactly what he had wanted to see from the War Ghoul. He had chosen a path to walk, and Cetanu could finally begin to truly aid him on the Path of Strength.
Ashe had begun to grow agitated with the fact that he was losing this fight. He was taking blow after blow after blow, and yet he was the only one being counted out. He didn't understand how he couldn't knock down one boy his age. Even his father, who was an armored paladin, fell with his effort than this it seemed. He wasn't a fan of this.
He threw a left hook, and Caspar blocked it with his left forearm. The blue haired Adrestian went for an uppercut at Ashe's abdomen, the blood demon expecting this attack. He grabbed the arm and twisted, trying to throw Caspar overhead. He failed, however, and was caught in a sleeper hold by the slightly heavier male.
Caspar yelled once again, lifting Ashe in the sleeper and slamming him to the ground, taking a step back as Ashe's immobile form caused Bestla to start the count. Her count grew ever higher as the haze slowly faded over Ashe's eyes, the Lordling again staring at the sky with a torrent of emotions swirling in his mind.
At the count of seven, Bestla began to grow worried, because Caspar had begun to breath evenly again and Ashe was not moving. Her arm came down again for a count of eight, and she was wondering if there was some other factor to her Lord's failing.
At the count of nine, Ashe sat up.
She watched as he sat there for a brief fraction of a second before cracking his neck and standing to his full height. He stared at Caspar, who grit his teeth and growled loudly.
"Why won't you stay down!?" he shouted, and the question angered Ashe, who was asking himself for the entire fight the same question. Caspar had yet to fall, and it was driving him mad.
He shot forward, catching Caspar off guard with his odd, open stance. Caspar couldn't think of how strike, allowing Ashe to headbutt him and make him stumble, a right hook sending blood and saliva flying from his split lips.
A kick to the midsection made Caspar take another step back. Ashe spun, striking Caspar with a spinning left heel, a left bodyblow making Caspar wheeze before another right hook made Caspar stumble again. Ashe's fists were clenched, his pale skin almost snow white at the knuckles.
"Why won't you go down!?" he screamed, his frustration making him more and more aggressive. Cetanu narrowed his eyes at this odd state of mind, his Progeny's mouth heavy and eyes beastly. His nails had sharpened to claws, and he was wondering why this simple duel between fellow students was causing Ashe to Frenzy.
The gray haired demon took a few steps back, flexing the muscles in his left leg, prepared to end this fight with the same attack that ended Lonato's life. He shot forward, preparing to strike with that same leaping left kick that took the soul from an armored paladin with decades of combat experience.
And yet, it didn't work on this mere Adrestian boy.
With the loudest scream yet, Caspar caught Ashe about the midsection, bellowing with rage as he lifted Ashe and spun, slamming him to the ground with immense force. His shoulder sandwiched Ashe's midsection between it and the ground, and the speed of the counter made Ashe's skull bounce off the ground, his entire body going limp as the light faded from his eyes.
Bestla closed her eyes after seeing that attack. She wasn't ready to see the fight end like this, but there was no way that he would get up from an attack like that. His brain must have been rattled, and his spine busted to some capacity. She watched Caspar exhale and lay his hand on Ashe's chest, almost a victorious sign of disrespect. He was going to use Ashe's prone body as a crutch to stand and raise his arm in victory.
Caspar's mind went blank.
He didn't understand it, but with the speed and force of a raging tide, something had grabbed a hold of him. Was it the referee or one of Ashe's friends, mad at him? One of Claude's friends? Perhaps Cetanu himself? He couldn't tell but the immense pain cut off the oxygen to his brain and he found his vision black mere fractions of a second before everything went black.
Caspar's limp, unconscious body was cast to the side, Ashe sitting up slowly and gingerly as he panted, coughing and sputtering as he glanced to his opponent.
There were two trains of thought going through his mind right now, and the first was that Caspar was incredible. He stood toe to toe with him for what felt like hours and had the upper hand all the way till the last move, Ashe only able to win because of an instinctual strike in Caspar's moment of weakness.
The second train of thought was that perhaps you don't need to have a Crest to be worth feeding from. The demon within the freckle faced boy was staring at the throbbing, bruised throat of Caspar and wondering how he'd stack up to Claude and Dimitri.
With Bestla leading Ashe away, Cetanu and Victor approached the defeated form of Caspar, the War Ghoul picking him up and carrying him as they headed towards the infirmary. The Sabertoothed Angel looked to his creator.
"Did Ashe cheat to use that last move?" he asked, and Cetanu glanced to him. He wondered the same thing himself, but he couldn't feel any traces of Fleshcrafting about either boy, so he assumed that it was simply fight or flight instincts.
"No. Caspar made a mistake in exposing himself and thinking that he'd won."
Cetanu had seen the spectacle himself. It was a perfect hold, a modified guillotine triangle choke that applied incomprehensible pressure to the neck. Ashe's movements were fluid like a rushing river battering the fur and flesh of a great bear who was searching for fish.
Almost like his body was made entirely of water, Ashe had slapped Caspar's arm with his left hand, slipped his right leg between Caspar's arm and beneath his chin, pulling on the arm and choking him. He then slung his left leg behind Caspar's neck and grabbed his own foot with his right hand and pulled on the back of his head with his left hand. The hold looked sickening, and Caspar was unconscious within seconds from a combination of how much pain and little oxygen he had.
Cetanu was very, very impressed with his student, who he could tell was making progress in his training. While his inner Fiend was trying to Frenzy, lashing out with as many strikes as he could and going for that killing blow used against Lonato, his rational mind knew that he couldn't kill his opponent, taking the slam as a way to snap himself out of it and stop the Frenzy.
Cetanu couldn't help but smile. He truly was ecstatic to see this kind of Growth in his Progeny. He only wondered what the next step was on Ashe's Path.
