Ch.47: Frailty in Body, Defiant in Soul! Voss' Endless Journey Pt.1!
Once upon a time, there was a society. A society fed by the violence and disparity of Pokémon. A world where only the strong would thrive, and the weak submitted. It was a system of living that the weak bent a knee to, and never questioned in fear of retaliation. When the weak spoke back, they were cut down for their insolence.
One day, a proud Electivire warrior and graceful Gardevoir maiden were blessed with the coming of a new life. The hatching of their child to carry on the family bloodline, destined to do great things like his parents.
A baby Elekid they proudly named Voss.
Voss was a quiet baby. He rarely screamed or cried, often found taking long naps through the day. His parents coddled and worried for the baby's lack of emotion, frequently going to doctors to see if their child was alright. Some priests believed the baby to be a devil in disguise. Neighbors started rumors about the baby being dead. Children concluded the baby was mute.
In truth, though the baby's silence was disconcerting, he was a young and healthy baby boy that the parents cherished. They would raise him to be his very best, to become something great in the future. The father wished for the child to become a warrior, while the mother wished for him to become a healer in a world that needed relief against the violence. They would decide when the child was of age.
However, they were not prepared for what they would discover in the child's second year of life.
Little Voss was protected in his infancy, rarely leaving his parents' sight, especially when he learned to walk. It started out as normal, keeping the baby from running out of the house or crashing into any furniture during his excitement. For a quiet child, Voss brimmed with energy. It was a proud sign to the father that Voss would grow into a fine warrior, much to his wife's playful annoyance.
One day, Voss accidentally tripped over a rug and sliced his hand across the corner of a table.
That was the first time Voss wailed with anguish.
His parents went to work mending the child's wounds while comforting him at such a daunting hour. His wails, an unfamiliar presence to their quiet home, filled his parents with dread. A child unaccustomed to pain, unsure how to respond but wail his woes.
They discovered something particular about the bleeding, however. Normally, it would take a little under ten to fifteen minutes for the bleeding to clot, but the parents spent over three hours managing a single cut. Blood oozed from the wound. The skin refused to heal. Voss slowly lost consciousness from the blood loss. He barely clung to life.
The parents rushed their child to the village healer to examine the state of his unusual wounds. Fortunately, the healer staved off the bleeding by burning the wound closed, though he was careful not to aggravate the skin too badly. The slightest burns seemed to irritate Voss' skin. Blood had to be given to keep Voss alive.
The healer requested to run tests on Voss' body, and discovered the extent of Voss' injuries. Paper thin skin. Fragile bones. Inefficient clotting of the blood. Voss possessed a weak constitution, one where the slightest injury was the difference between life and death. His very existence was comparable to an avalanche, where the slightest error or disturbance would equal a chain reaction of misery.
A child of fragility. A glass doll that needed to be cared for and protected at all times.
This is the story of Voss, the Child of Weakness.
Voss sat quietly in his room, as he did every day of the week. He had very little possessions. Handmade plushies that kept him company, and were virtually incapable of inflicting wounds. A collection of books neatly organized on a shelf, though he wasn't allowed to reach for them without the aid of his parents or whatever nanny was overseeing him when his parents were out. The books had their corners shaved down so the sharp edges would prick him. Even Voss' bed was injury proof, nothing more than a mattress with pillows bordering the perimeter in case he rolled off.
This was the life he lived, and the only life he could remember.
Voss was currently reading one of his books while wearing handmade gloves. Voss didn't have friends, but he imagined most kids his age didn't worry about a paper cut being an invitation for the reaper. It made turning the pages difficult, but he adjusted with time.
The fragile Elekid looked up from his book to the sound of knocking on the door. "Come in," Voss said.
The door creaked open, and a Wigglytuff in a maid's uniform entered. She bowed to him. "Just coming to check on you, Voss. And I brought your lunch."
"Thank you, Ms. Thorpe," Voss mumbled before turning back to his book.
Ms. Thorpe carefully shuffled into the room with a tray, complete with a bowl of soup, bread, and plain water. She sat the tray down beside Voss, then asked, "Would you like me to feed you again?"
Voss shook his head. "No. I can do it myself."
Ms. Thorpe nodded. "Okay. Please be careful. The soup just cooled. And make sure not to eat too fast. A spoon may not be as sharp as a fork or knife, but it can still do real harm if you're not careful."
Voss rolled his eyes. "I'm not a baby, Ms. Thorpe. I know how to use a spoon."
"Of course." She stood up and dust her apron off. "Are you enjoying your book?"
"Yes."
"Would you like me to get you another one?"
Voss narrowed his eyes. "Thieves of the Timberland. Part Three."
"Excellent choice, Voss." Ms. Thorpe turned to the bookshelf and traced her hand across the spines in search of the requested book.
Voss flipped to the next page and read a few lines before setting the book down. "Ms. Thorpe."
"Yes, dear?"
"When are my mom and dad coming back?"
"Hmm. Your mom said she had to visit a family friend for the weekend, so she should be back in a few days. She promised to bring you back some new books. Your father won't be back for quite some time, I'm afraid. Something about a ghastly infestation of rogues in one of the faraway villages. Dreadful stuff. You don't want to hear it."
Voss narrowed his eyes. "My dad's really tough, isn't he?"
Ms. Thorpe chuckled. "Toughest man in the village."
"Why does he fight?"
"The money's good from what I've heard. The lands see no end to crime, and the wealthier villages will pay anything to drive out such dastardly endeavors."
Voss shook his head. "No. I meant WHY does he fight?"
Ms. Thorpe stopped searching the bookshelf, then looked down at her charge with a puzzled expression. "I'm afraid I'm at a loss, my dear boy. What do you mean?"
"Why does my dad fight when it's so dangerous? My parents always tell me that the world is a dangerous place for me, and that I shouldn't be exposed to that kind of violence."
Ms. Thorpe sighed. "I'm afraid you're a particular case, Voss. Other children aren't quite as…delicate as you are. I imagine your dad fights to make the world a safer place for you, despite how daunting of a task that would be."
"But he fought before I was born, right?"
Ms. Thorpe sighed. "Most men take on the difficult jobs while the women care for the home and children, dear Voss. Most do it out of a sense of pride or obligation. Take your mother for instance. She worked tirelessly to understand the medical field for your sake, yet she dedicates just as much time to raising you. She does it out of love. Your father, I feel, has the same motives, though I suppose there's always been love to his profession."
"Love?"
"Your father truly does love battle. In fact, most men dream of becoming warriors to protect our village and those neighboring us. It's something like a badge of honor they wear. From what your mom told me, he always wanted to become a warrior. I say it's because he gets a thrill out of it." Ms. Thorpe sighed and shook her head. "If he weren't such a decent man, I'd say he was bloodthirsty."
Voss blinked, then looked out his window. "I wish I could do something like that."
Ms. Thorpe nodded. "I wish so, too, dear child. Sadly, with the state of your body, a single nick would end your career. Best to stay confined and safe." She smiled at Voss. "But try not to see that like you'll never accomplish anything. There's always becoming a healer. Many kids would be inspired by a healer who surpassed their own limitations."
Voss looked down at his book. "I guess that wouldn't be so bad."
"You will become the miracle child who defeated his own weakness and made change to the world." Ms. Thorpe turned to the bookshelf and resumed searching through the spines. "You just need to know where to start. Everyone has to start from somewhere, perhaps in places lower than your own."
Voss looked up and tilted his head. "I can do anything if I worked hard enough?"
"Of course. You're a bright young man, Voss. Don't let your frailty get in the way of accomplishing your dreams. The world's your oyster, as they say." Ms. Thorpe pulled out the book Voss wanted and set it down by the stack next to his bed. "I must tend to the chores now. Call me if you need anything else, dear."
Voss nodded. "Okay, Ms. Thorpe." The Wigglytuff curtsied, then exited the bedroom, leaving the frail Elekid to himself. Voss picked up his book and resumed reading, though with Ms. Thorpe's words of encouragement in mind. "Don't let my own frailty hold me back…"
Since Voss rarely left his room, his parents made a point to get him exercise every week. They don't plan on sheltering Voss forever, but he was still so young and inexperienced to the world. Once a week, one or both parents would take Voss on a walk around the village for a few hours to work the muscles. Today, Voss was accompanied by his mom.
"Are you okay holding the basket, sweetie?" his Gardevoir mother asked cautiously.
Voss, with a bread basket hanging from his shoulder, rolled his eyes. "Mom, it's bread. Not even that can bruise my skin."
Gardevoir sighed, then smiled tiredly. "Sorry, sweetie. You know I'm just looking out for you, right?"
"You remind me every day." Voss sighed and scratched between his horns. "I'm tired."
"Are your legs hurting?"
"No. Just tired."
"Do you want to end our walk early and go home?"
Voss shook his head. "I need the exercise. I can manage."
Gardevoir smiled. "You're quite the trooper, Voss."
"If you say so." Voss yawned, then stretched his arms. "Mom?"
"Yes, sweetie?"
"I'm kind of sick of reading in my room."
"Oh? Is there something you want?"
"I want to go outside more."
Gardevoir frowned. "Voss, you're very mature for your age, but understand that your father and I don't feel comfortable with you leaving the house on your own yet. You're so—"
"Frail, I know," Voss groaned. "I've heard it a million times. I just…I don't know, life seems so stale. There's just…nothing interesting about life."
Gardevoir stopped and bent down to her son's level. "Voss, where are these thoughts coming from?"
Voss shook his head. "It's nothing. Just me saying stupid stuff."
"Voss, if you have something to say, I'm open to listen."
Voss glared. "I'm fine, Mom. It's nothing important."
"Voss, I'm just trying to—"
A cry of horror up ahead interrupted the two. Their eyes widened in alarm as Pokémon flew down the road, fleeing for their lives. Gardevoir shielded her son as Pokémon bumped into them. Voss flinched as someone bumped into his mom a little too hard, and she accidentally squeezed him too tight. He felt his bones creak and crack from the gentle embrace.
"Voss?" Gardevoir let go of her son and held his face. "Oh Voss, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"
"Where's my money?!"
Voss and his mom looked back down the street and saw a Slowbro marching down the street, dragging a bloodied axe and a trail of blood behind him. Gardevoir pushed Voss behind her, then stood up to face the approaching, murderous hunter.
"You! Woman!" Slowbro huffed, pointing at Gardevoir. "I'm looking for a rat that owes me money. Where is he?"
Gardevoir bit her lip. "I…I have no idea what you're—"
"I-I-I-I, uh—" The Slowbro stuttered tauntingly before spitting on the ground. "Don't talk stupid. A Raticate. Plump bastard with black fur and fat cheeks. Where is he?"
Gardevoir gulped, then nervously said, "S-Sir, I don't know anyone like that. P-Perhaps you have the wrong—"
Slowbro grabbed her chin and pulled her down to eye level. "Woman, I want my effing money now. You either tell me where that fat rat is, or I'm butchering you next."
Voss glared, then stepped out from behind his mom. "Hey! She said there's no rat here. Let her go and get lost."
Slowbro furrowed his brow, then let go of Gardevoir. "Tough little runt, aren't you?" He lifted his axe, then aimed the bloodied blade at Voss' face. "You see this, brat? You smell this? That's what I'm going to do to you if you don't back off."
Voss' glare turned ice cold. "Are you?"
"Yes. I will."
Voss scoffed. "You don't have the guts."
Slowbro smirked. "Ooh~. You've got quite the mouth, brat."
Gardevoir backed away and grabbed Voss' hand. "Voss, don't aggravate him—" Voss pulled his hand away, then stepped toward the axe. "Voss?!"
Voss pressed his hand against the bloodied weapon, then pushed it aside. "Kill me."
Slowbro's eyes widened. "What?"
"Kill me. Coward." Voss' glare deepened further. "You're a man, aren't you? You're a warrior, aren't you? Kill. Me."
"Voss!" Gardevoir gasped.
A bead of sweat dripped down Slowbro's forehead as he stared into Voss' unfeeling, intense stare. He felt his leg retreating behind him, as well as the other. Something permeated from Voss' stare, invoking feelings never before felt in his lifetime as a bounty hunter. Something in Voss' stare felt…oppressive. Sinister.
No. Not sinister.
Empty.
"What's with you, kid?" Slowbro muttered as he backed away. "Stop looking at me like that."
Voss matched his retreat with pacing steps. "Is this what a warrior is? This is what the great warriors I've heard about are made of? Cowards who flee from children?" Voss sneered. "What a joke. A sad, pathetic joke."
Slowbro bared his teeth into a tight snarl. "You…You…!" Slowbro raised his axe up high. "What kind of demon are you?!"
"Voss!" Gardevoir cried, lunging at her son.
Voss stared at the axe, heart pummeling against his ribcage so hard that it might literally break his ribs. And yet, Voss felt no fear. He felt…something. He couldn't explain it. It was an emotion he never felt before. A burning anxiousness that made his fingers twitch with anticipation. It was like something was telling him to meet the blade head-on.
To fight.
"Leave my sight, you demon child!" Slowbro roared, swinging his axe down.
The axe never reached Voss. In a flurry of slashes, Slowbro's arm ripped to pieces, sending the axe flying into the air and over Voss' head. Blood sprayed across Voss' face, startling him out of his unfeeling trance. Gardevoir landed on the ground, hands grazing her son's heels, and stared up in shock at the rain of blood.
"GAAAAAAAHHHH!" Slowbro screamed, clutching his bleeding arm. He tripped over his legs and fell onto his back, rolling around and screaming in agony.
Voss blinked twice, then glanced to the side, spotting the armored Banette clutching a sheathed sword. The Banette exhaled through the gap of his zippered mouth, then clicked his sword back into its scabbard.
"Suffer in Hell, murderer," Banette muttered. He sighed, then opened up his mouth. "Are you two okay?"
Gardevoir sat up and hugged Voss from behind. "Th-Thank you! Thank you so much!" She picked Voss up and held him against her chest. "Voss, what were you thinking?! Don't ever scare me like that again!"
Voss blinked, then pressed his fingers against the blood on his face. The red liquid dripped off down his face and hand, and reeked of iron. He stared off into space, ignoring the cries of the Slowbro and focused on the warmth on his face.
Banette narrowed his eyes. "Are you okay, kid? That was pretty reckless, stepping up to a murderer like that."
In a way, Voss agreed. It was a strange feeling to overcome him. No fear, emotion, or hesitance inf ace of a man who was prepared to slice his face off. An instant kill in the making. Now here he stood, face drenched in blood, and he felt no fear or trauma.
He felt something else. A rush facing certain death. A ringing of tension. The heart racing bombardment of anxiety. The thrill of the unknown to his future.
Was this feeling…excitement?
Voss kept one hand on his sword and quickly scanned the numerous warriors surrounding him from the trees and bushes. Some radiated with magic, others stood with a prominent presence that chilled the air. The atmosphere of dozens of seasoned warriors joined together, all with hunter's eyes staring at their prey.
For sport? Or to end a defiled soul's life?
None of them terribly interested Voss to don his armor. There wasn't anything special about them or their weapons. If they didn't intend to cut him down, he would've passed them off as fodder for the marauders roaming Mysto.
Then again, when did Voss pass up the chance to drench his sword in spilt blood?
Voss' tails swayed like ribbons caught in a light gust. His eyes moved between each warrior several times over, including the showboating Shiftry standing on the rooftops. Voss could already identify that man's type. A warrior who fought for fame and glory, thus they must put on a captivating presence before they engage in battle. He will no doubt be the easiest to cut down.
Voss glared as the Shiftry sat down on the roof, adding to his assumed cockiness. He didn't show it in face, though Voss could read it through his posture and movements. One other attribute was apparent about the Shiftry, however.
He was the only one taking Voss seriously.
"Surrender your weapon, monster," Travis Blight ordered. "You're being tried for the trail of bodies left in your wake."
Voss closed his eyes and sighed. "You came with this pathetic army to tell me that? What meaningless dribble." He glared into the crowd of warriors. "They were nothing more than mites taking on a dragon. I had to put them out of their misery. It was too bothersome a sight to watch."
"Bastard!" the axe-wielding Typhlosion snapped, flaring up her flames. "There's no end to your ruthlessness, is there?"
"We've come to exact revenge on those you've slain," the nunchunk-wielding Hitmontop said. "You may either surrender peacefully, or with your head removed from your shoulders."
Voss shook his head. "Such violent language. Of course, when I do it, it's seen as wrong. To decapitate me would promote you as heroes."
"You've slain half of them in cold blood!" Scolipede yelled. "You're decades away from being innocent."
Voss shrugged. "You raise a point. What one calls murder, the other calls a necessary evil for the good of others." Voss' eyes flashed red. "I think of it as neither, however. I see it more as…pushing something out of my way. Like a chair. A door. A walking corpse."
Voss could see the tension rising in the crowd. Blood boiled, muscles tensed, and growls chorused through the empty village. Voss flicked his blade an inch out of its scabbard, keeping his thumb on the guard. The fastest of their party could close the distance in one second by his estimate. Enough time to defend himself.
Travis narrowed his eyes at Voss, then asked, "Do you consider yourself free of sin, monster?"
Voss closed his eyes. "I do not bother with worthless concepts to weigh me down. There is only the will to fight and die. I would hope one of you possessed the skill to butcher my body and reap my soul from the mortal coil, but all I see is weakness. This is the culture of Mysto's warriors, a fine example of scum festering at the bottom of the century old barrel. Heathens who swing their weapons around like children. None of you are worthy to face me in honorable combat. For that, you will die swiftly by my blade."
"How paradoxically philosophical of you." Travis jumped off the roof and landed on the ground. He reached around and grabbed one of the hilts in his scabbard. "Then no one shall shed a tear for your departure."
Voss inhaled deeply, then sighed, releasing black steam through his teeth. "As it should be. I shall continue this path without interference. Strike me down, make your strike true, and dare not leave fate up to chance. None of you will survive this day—"
"Oh, blah, blah, BLAH! Enough talk!" A Perrserker stepped out from the crowd of warriors and extended his claws. Magic ran through the claws and changed them into solid diamond. "I've seen your work, monster! I'm going to butcher you into pieces and sacrifice your entrails to the gods!"
With a harrowing war cry, the armored cat charged at Voss, dragging his claws behind him and through the ground. Light refracted off the claws, illuminating them in a blinding glow that could pierce the densest fog. It was a sure-fire attack guaranteed to rip through any armor or toughened exterior they connected with.
"DIE!" Perrserker leapt, reared his claws back, and swung them at Voss.
SHIIIIING!
A flash of white slashed through Perrserker, sending him off course and around Voss like a ragdoll. A stiffening silence consumed the atmosphere, a universal suppression of sound itself, until the moment of peace was destroyed by a sickening crunch of bone impacting a tree. A squishy, gurgling sound followed after, then an unceremonious fall to the ground.
The warriors stared past Voss in shock, eying the corpse laying beneath a tree, its ruined state being spared by the generous shade.
Voss opened his eyes, casting a dry glare at the gawking crowd, then flicked the blood off his sword. "Oh. I was stretching my arm there. Did something happen?"
Travis stayed still, glaring at Voss with a tranquil anger. A clean execution with no remorse or notice. The swift movements of a trained killer, one who cut down thousands in a lifetime. In that moment, he understood this was no ordinary killer.
Before Travis could offer a rebuttal to the horrific act, the call for revenge roared from the enraged pack of warriors. Everyone drew their weapons, then charged at Voss all at once. Travis jumped back before he was trampled in the stampede.
"You fools!" Travis yelled. "You're falling for his bait! Stop!"
No one spared an ear to heed his warning, clouded by desire to tear apart the mad killer before them. It was hundreds against one. Their victory was assured.
Voss, however, saw nothing but mites descending upon him.
Voss jumped back from a triple tag team of swords slicing down on his position. His eyes rapidly darted in every direction, spotting three gunman, five archers, and at least ten melee fighters preparing to take him. Voss raised his sword and swung with the grace of a ribbon dancer. Arrows and bullets rained down on him, but his sword bounced away their shots and sent them flying through the crowd. Two deflected bullets nailed headshots through two melee fighters, and three others went down from arrows to the legs and chest.
The remaining five melee fighters lunged at Voss, brandishing swords, flails, and gauntlets. Voss parried two swordsman and smashed his elbow across their heads. He sliced the flails apart, grappled them with his tails, and smashed them down on their wielders' heads. The gauntlet-wearing Magmar pushed through the smashed corpses and launched a punch through Voss' blind spot.
Voss raised his bracer and stopped one of the punches. A second one flew in at an arc, moving with twice the speed of a bullet, but Voss caught the wrist with his tail. The Magmar tried to throw a counterpunch, but Voss instantly sliced him upwards from the waist to the head, spewing blood across the air.
Voss glared over his shoulder and saw more warriors rushing him in a pincer maneuver. Voss grabbed the dead Magmar and threw him into the crowd, halting their advance momentarily. Voss charged through the stunned group, hacking through their numbers until blood rained over the ground. Blood splashed over his face and robes, but he paid no mind to it.
"Get him! I'll cover you!" the Scolipede warrior yelled. His mounted gatling guns started to rotate as orange-colored magic flowed into them. The Scolipede roared and fired a stream of magic bullets at Voss.
Voss caught them through his peripherals and flailed his sword through the stream. The bullets cascaded around Voss like rushing water and tore up the ground behind him. Stray bullets passed through his defensive attack, cutting across his face and arms. Blood shot out in large spurts. Voss steeled his glare as his healing factor started up.
"Death from above!" Voss looked up and saw the Hitmontop descending from the sky. He spun his nunchunks in hand before spinning his whole body, too. Hitmontop passed through the cascade of deflected bullets like water, then bashed his nunchunks down on Voss' head.
Voss felt his skull crack from the impact. The attack wasn't meant to break, but wound. All of Voss' skill meant nothing if he couldn't stave off weak hits. Countering would tear his attention off the bullet streams and leave him open for an unsatisfying death, but allowing the jumpy Hitmontop to continue his assault would sooner bring about that fate.
"What's the matter, man? Can't touch me?" the Hitmontop taunted. He spun circles around Voss, passing in and out of the bullet stream with no trouble. The bullets themselves were caught inside his rotation and moving along like a current. If anything the bullets Hitmontop passed through were momentarily sped up to hit Voss.
Hitmontop flew past Voss dozens of times, inflicting injuries left and right. He probably didn't anticipate his attacks doing more than serving as a nuisance, but Voss' unique constitution turned the weakest attacks into a death sentence if applied right. If not for the healing factor, Voss would be on his knees by now.
The only recourse for Voss was to activate his armor, but his mind stuck solely to defending against the bullet stream, thus he couldn't spare a moment to apply the armor over himself. Voss assured himself before that they would be weaklings to pick off in ten seconds, but he underestimated the scope of his enemy. Though not difficult individually, their synergy was on point.
Voss will have to remedy that mistake immediately.
"What's the matter? Slowing down already?!" Hitmontop exclaimed, bashing his nunchunks across Voss' sides and legs.
"Helstrik! Get away from him!" Travis yelled.
"What?" the Hitmontop yelled back.
One of Voss' tails whipped at the spinning warrior and caught his waist. Helstrik continued to spin in Voss' hold even as he was being lifted off the ground. Blood sprayed from Voss' tail as the skin burned and rubbed off from the friction.
"Ha! You think this'll stop me?!"
Voss narrowed his eyes. "Fallen Hellhound."
Black and purple flames burst from his tails. He cocooned Helstrik inside his tails, then flared his flames. Helstrik screamed from inside the tails as the flames seared him alive. No part of his body could be seen through the overwhelming mass of flames. Even his screams were nearly drowned by the demonic roar of the fire.
"Die."
Voss whipped his tail and threw the flaming corpse through the bullet stream. Scolipede stopped firing and dodged before the flames could touch him. The corpse bounced off the dirt and landed a meter shy of the forest.
Scolipede stared at the body for a second, then turned his attention back on Voss. His eyes widened as Voss seemingly teleported in front of him, with a blade swinging for his face.
"Hi-YA!" Typhlosion flew in and deflected Voss' strike before it could decapitate the megapede. She snarled at Voss. "No more lives shall be taken!"
Voss sidestepped her downward axe strike, then jumped backwards as the ground exploded with lava. The ground instantly turned into lava from the Typhlosion's strike, brimming with heated magic found only in the flaming badger herself.
Typhlosion pulled her axe out of the ground and shook off the lava dripping from the head. "Keep your head in the game," she said to the Scolipede. "Keep doing what you're doing. I'll end this in one shot."
Voss glared. "My apologies for assuming the obvious. It appears I need to treat you mites with a bit more respect." Voss gripped his bracer. "Immuto Armor: Release."
Typhlosion clutched her oversized axe, then launched herself forward with an explosion. "Burn to ash, monster!" Typhlsion caught the ground with her heels, then slashed her axe across the ground with the added momentum. A tsunami of lava burst from the ground and smashed into Voss. The trees behind Voss were struck and buried in the molten rock.
Typhlosion stepped back and admired her handiwork. Nothing but liquid fire before her, burning everything buried underneath into the aether itself. She guessed from Voss' fight with Helstrik that he didn't have good defensive aura, which was the only thing that could guarantee survival against her magic. Even then, the burns would tear a man alive.
"Is he dead?" a Noivern mage asked as he cautiously approached the lava pool.
"Should be," Typhlosion said. "There's no way that bastard could survive this."
Travis carefully approached their side, keeping one hand on his many sheathed hilts. He glared at the lava pool. "Something's not right."
"What do you mean?" Typhlosion groaned. "He's nothing but ash now."
"That armor," Travis muttered.
Noivern raised his brow. "Huh?"
"He called it the Immuto Armor." Travis bared his teeth. "That armor…"
Typhlosion glared at him. "You haven't participated in this fight at all, so spit it out already—"
"He's not dead!" Travis snapped, jumping away from them.
Before Noivern or Typhlosion could react, the lava pool exploded behind them. A black whirlwind carried the lava into the air, rapidly cooling it, and showered the ruined village in hot slag. Noivern gasped and shielded himself from raining slag with a barrier while Typhlosion dodged them.
"What the?!" Typhlosion gasped.
From the thick steam of molten earth, Voss marched toward the duo, clad in red hot armor. His metal face mask was sealed tight, bearing the permanent scowl of a demon. Even his tails wore flexible armor pieces, shielding them from the lava that dripped off their surface. With a flick of his tails, he sent the droplets flying at Typhlosion, who casually swatted them away.
Typhlosion bared her teeth into an infuriated grimace. "That's impossible. My magic can turn even the sturdiest of metals to molten slag. How the hell did you survive?"
Voss raised his sword at her. "Please," he said, his voice distorted behind the metal mask. "I've seen embers that can melt wax candles faster than your magic."
Typhlosion growled, then pointed at the Scolipede. "Fire at him, now!"
Scolipede turned his mounted guns on Voss and fired. Typhlosion jumped out of the way as the magic bullets peppered Voss' armor. Unlike before, Voss put up no defense against the bombardment. The bullets pinged off his armor and dispersed into wisps as he walked through with the stride of a parkgoer.
"Perhaps your fireworks could've cracked my armor a good three hundred years ago, but they'll settled as your sendoff." Voss raised his sword and lit it ablaze in shadow fire. "Celebrate, for you will have a swift end. Fallen Hell Blaze!" Voss slashed the air and fired searing flame at Scolipede.
Scolipede stopped firing and sidestepped the flames, though the edge of the projectile cut across his neck. Scolipede hollered in pain as searing hot flame burn across his wound. He stumbled over himself and toppled to the floor.
Travis kept his distance, then glared at Voss. "What wicked magic." He grabbed one of his hilts and pulled it from its scabbard. "Is he a demon? Or something worse?" With a flick of his wrist, Travis conjured a transparent, blue energy blade from his hilt, resembling an odachi sword. He gripped it with both his leafy hands, then charged into battle.
Voss glared at Travis, then aimed his flaming sword at him. "You will die slowly, warrior. Prepare yourself. Fallen Hell—"
"Negavit Spatium!"
Voss' flames extinguished in an instant. He looked down and saw a magic circle beneath his feet, surrounding him in a pillar of white light. Voss turned toward the Noivern mage, who wielded magic circles in his hands.
"I've denied your use of magic in that space, monster," Noivern said. "Wicked, natural, or beyond, you will not be allowed to wield your magic without my say."
"HA!" Travis kicked off the ground and dashed past Voss with a powerful swipe to the abdomen. His blade grinded off the impenetrable exterior. A line of solid blue traced across the point of impact before fading. Voss could sense the magic in the impact, and Voss knew it was more than just residual damage.
"Take this!" Typhlosion lunged from the rooftops and slammed her axe down on Voss' head. "Primal Earth: Land of Flame!"
The ground melted under Voss' feet and warped into superheated lava. Voss sank down to his waist in an instant. He slashed at Typhlosion, but she sprang off his head and out of the negated magic zone. Travis soared over the lava multiple times, slashing across Voss' armor with residual slashes tracing across the impact points.
Typhlosion touched the ground. "Return to Earth!"
Steam billowed from the lava, supercooling it back to solid rock and trapping Voss from the waist down. Voss kept his composure as he examined the earth, dragging his sword through the newly reformed ground. Solid and virtually unbreakable for an above average warrior.
Noivern flapped his cloak open, conjuring a massive fireball between his hands. "Extinction Flame!" He fired it on the trapped Electivire, blasting him in a raging inferno of flames that reached high above the tree line. Noivern clenched his fists and mentally tightened the inferno, concentrating all its heat down onto Voss.
"That armor of his protects him from the lava, but he still needs to breathe like the rest of us," Noivern said. "I shall burn away all his oxygen until he suffocates to death."
Typhlosion raised her axe. "Why wait? Let's just crush him while he's down—"
FWOOSH!
Voss' sword pierced through the inferno and stabbed Noivern through the throat. Travis and Typlosion's eyes widened in horror. Noivern, with his face paralyzed into a blank yet disturbed expression, fell to the ground, choking on his last breaths.
"Fallen Hellfire!"
The inferno became consumed in black flames that exploded out from the ground, blowing back Travis and Typlosion while eating away at Noivern's body. Light was absorbed in the flames, darkening their surroundings with only the flickers of black and purple illuminating the village.
Voss burst from the flames, snatched his sword out of Noivern's burnt corpse, and charged at Typhlosion next. Typhlosion raised her axe and blocked his sword, but Voss' superior strength lifted her from the ground and blasted her into a nearby hut. The decrepit walls caved in immediately.
Travis gripped his sword and swung at Voss. Voss parried and slashed back with flames coated around his blade. Travis parried in return, then slashed across Voss' chest plate with lightning-fast movement. If Voss wasn't paying attention, he might've missed seeing it.
"Impressive," Voss said. "Most impressive." He whipped his tails at Travis.
Travis countered the armored tails, then jumped back to gain some distance. "You wear the Immuto Armor?"
"Familiar with its craft?" Voss asked.
"A legendary armor capable of self-adapting and repair to make an impenetrable shell? I didn't believe it to be real, at least from five hundred years ago. To think someone had the magical knowhow in those times to craft a dangerous suit of armor."
"Then you understand what this piece may have been through in the last five hundred years. There's no point in continuing this pointless fighting."
Travis narrowed his eyes. "I can't say I understand your methodology, but I understand plenty. Now!"
Voss suddenly staggered forward as two twin lasers blasted him in the back. He glared over his shoulder and saw the Scolipede had risen once again, firing two solid lasers from his mounted guns. Each laser had substantial weight behind them, like a single Wishiwashi pushing against the currents of Kyogre. A desperate struggle that leads only to a swift drowning.
Voss plunged his tails into the ground and anchored himself. "Fallen Hellfi—"
Travis launched forward and swung against Voss' sword, redirecting the shadow fire away from Scolipede. "Moonlight Reversal!" Travis spun on his foot and slashed Voss three times with shadow fire carrying along the arc of his swing.
Voss stood his ground as he fell back against the lasers. He patted the flames off his armor, then fired flames at Travis. Travis ran around the village and dodged each incoming slash with a remarkable display of acrobatics. Any flames that came close to him would be slashed to pieces by his sword.
Voss carefully lowered himself to the ground and pressed his fingers against the earth. "Beast of the Fallen Tribute!"
He clenched his fingers through the ground, cracking it open, and expelled dark flames from beneath him. The head of a demonic wolf made of shadow fire came to life and slammed into the twin lasers. The intense flames wrapped around the magic and set them ablaze like alcohol, running down the length of the lasers in seconds.
"AH!" Scolipede cut off the lasers before the flames reached him. The flames jumped at him, but he sidestepped them in time. "Phew!" He turned his turrets back on Voss and—
Pain flared through Scolipede's whole body as Voss once against caught him in a moment of distraction. This time, the Electivire was able to plunge his sword through the megapede's neck, drilling it through the flesh and bone.
"Fallen Hellfire."
Scolipede's entire body instant ignited in shadow fire. A scream was barely heard from the megapede. His silhouette distorted and shook inside the black inferno before falling limp. Voss pulled his sword out before Scolipede hit the ground.
"One left." Voss flicked the blood off his sword, then paused for a moment. "No. Not one. Two—"
"Amphitheatre of the Volcano!"
Lava exploded out of the ground and surrounded Voss. Lava pools opened up under him with only a dozen solid platforms of earth to stand on. The lava rose into the air and coiled tightly into the shape of a dome. It retained its shape without solidifying. It was a dome made of actual lava right above his head. Without his armor, someone most sadistic would have to just drop the dome on his head to kill him.
"You're in my space now, monster!" Typhlosion burst from the lava walls and came down on Voss from above, slamming her lava-coated axe down on his helmet. She used the impact to spring off before Voss could counterattack and landed on the other side of the arena. "It's kill or be killed in here."
Voss brushed off the lava dripping from his helmet, then ignited his sword in shadow fire. "Clearly you weren't here for my explanation to your comrade, but your lava cannot melt this armor." He slashed and fired a wave of shadow fire toward Typhlosion.
Typhlosion struck the ground and erected a wall of lava that instantly hardened. The flames slammed into it and parted around the wall, leaving Typhlosion untouched. "The mage had the right idea. You still need to breathe in there, right?" She struck the wall and fired chunks of lava from it.
Voss walked through the lava shots as they splattered across his armor. "And if your theory about my oxygen dependency is false?"
"Then I'll rip you out of that tin can layer by layer!" Typhlosion slammed both hands into the wall, turned it into lava, and fired it toward Voss.
Voss hardened his stance as the lava wall rammed into him. The viscous, molten rock pushed him back a few inches, but his stance remained straight and unbreakable. Typhlosion, however, used the momentary distraction to charge into him with a stream of lava trailing behind her axe. She roared and swung her axe into Voss' chest plate with the combined force of the lava stream. Voss flew across the arena and slammed into the lava dome with its viscous interior keeping him from flying outside.
"Burn, burn, burn!" Typhlosion snapped her fingers and shot pillars of lava from the bubbling pool beneath them. They blasted into Voss like high pressure water cannons before wrapping around like tendrils. "How much heat can that tin can really handle?!" She pulled her fist back and dragged Voss beneath the lava pool.
Voss shrugged off the tendrils and tried to swim to the surface, but the lava flowed against him and dragged him further down the pool. Though Voss couldn't feel the lava's insufferable burning, he felt a sweltering heat inside his armor, one that grew in temperature by the second. Through his mask, he saw the lava turning a crimson red. He sensed overwhelming heat from the magic around him.
Typhlosion stood directly above on a slab of earth, grinning like a maniac as the lava started to bubble. "I love fighting guys like you. The types of people I feel no remorse for cooking alive. Murderers like you deserve a long, insufferable torturing that even the pain will linger beyond death. That is your fate, monster!"
Typhlosion clenched her fists and continued to heat up the lava. The bubbling became more eradicate, close to that of boiling water. Steam jettisoned from the bubbles, filling the arena in a thick mist.
"Have you come to terms with your inadequacy, monster? Or shall I turn up the heat even further? Even Groudon himself would praise the intensity of my magic." Typhlosion raised her axe over her shoulder. "Who needs flames to kill when the earth itself is the greatest flame of all? Suffocating, unstoppable, destructive force of nature that can drown all in molten earth itself. Burn for eternity, from body to soul! Return to Hell with the rest of your demonic kind, you—"
Typhlosion suddenly staggered as a whirlpool formed withing the lava. She dropped down and grabbed onto her platform as the lava ripped through the surface, splashing molten rock all over. Her eyes widened as black winds jettisoned from below the lava, separating a space free of lava. Typhlosion rode across the surface of the whirlpool, clinging for dear life, then gasped when she peered down the bottom of the whirlpool.
Voss stood on solid ground wrapped in a black whirlwind, then looked up at Typhlosion. "Monster this, and monster that. Since you've occupied my time with your philosophies, allow me to share my own. If that is truly your ambition—"
Voss leapt from the whirlpool and snatched Typhlosion off her platform by the neck. The whiplash to her neck nearly knocked her unconscious, but her aura prevailed in sponging the damage. That is, until Voss clutched down so hard on her neck that her aura formed cracks instantly. Her axe slipped from her fingers, and she stared into Voss' face plate as the eye holes opened. Her pupils dilated as two red eyes stared back at her.
"What does life mean to you?"
Travis couldn't enter through the lava dome. He lacked magic unlike most of the others, relying only on the magical properties imbued within his sword. All he could do was watch and wait for a shift in the battle, or an opening to fight back.
Outside of the dome, he was the only survivor. Warriors killed by crushing, stabbing, or incineration. A gruesome sight that Travis tried to block out of his mind. This was the risk of pursuing Voss, one he understood and accepted as by his code. It had to be done, lest a path of destruction would continue to carve through Mysto.
Travis kept both hands on his sword and eyes locked on the lava dome. All that mattered was defeating the monster and putting Mysto at ease, if only by a small margin. For the sake of everyone, including his family.
Travis tightened his stance as a breach came through the lava dome. Two breaches. Two separate directions. Travis identified each in a second, and regretted doing so. As soon as the lava dome started to collapse, it occurred to him what he saw was a corpse.
Two halves of one.
Travis saw something else fly out of the lava as it collapsed, and it flew towards him. Travis took a tentative step back as the Typhlosion's axe crashed down in front of him, imbedding its blade into the ground.
Travis was the only remaining fighter.
"Shit," Travis growled.
His kinetic vision identified something flying toward his face. Something big, and something sharp. Travis raised his sword as Voss suddenly appeared in front of him, slashing across Travis' guard. His energy sword instantly shattered like glass. It absorbed the impact before shattering, sending Travis flying across the village and crashing through the porch of a hut.
Travis pushed himself up and massaged the back of his head. He turned over his hilt and stared at the sparks flying out from the guard. He glared, then looked up as Voss approached him.
"You were smart to keep your distance for this long, warrior," Voss said, flicking the blood off his sword. "But fleeing is no longer an option."
Travis stood up and dusted his shoulders off. "You say that, but all you've done your whole life is fight. Retreating is not the coward's move. In this case, I shall do both."
"I've shattered your blade. The other eight will fall break as fast."
Travis chuckled. "Oh? Is that a fact?" He spun the hilt between his leafy digits, then shoved it back into its scabbard.
Once the hilt was docked back into the scabbard, a blue trail traveled down the length of its sheathe, flowing in the centerpiece of the nine-sword scabbard. Like a tributary, magic flowed from the hilt into the center sword stationed at the very top of the scabbard. The peak sword's hilt glowed once the energy flowed into it, blazing with a cool blue aura.
"I see you've never been introduced to the Nine Scholars." Travis grabbed two side hilts and pulled them out, instantly igniting their energy blades. "What I hold in my possession may be the only weapon capable of countering the Immuto Armor. Though we only joined forces out of obligation, I shall avenge the deaths of those you've slain today."
Voss narrowed his eyes. A twinkle of intrigue reflected from his red irises. "Your name. What was it again?"
"Blight. Travis Blight."
"Travis Blight." Voss gripped his sword in both hands and hardened his stance. "Prove to me you are worthy of killing me. Show me your strength, and I will honor your death in memory."
"Keh. Cocky son of a demon, you are." Travis crossed his swords and readied his stance. "I'll peel that armor from your body."
"Do not disappoint, Travis Blight."
The storm clouds above crackled with lightning as rain poured down on the village. Lightning illuminated their surroundings, highlighting both warriors' harsh expressions. The perfect setting for a climatic showdown.
A blinding crackle overwhelmed the village and, like the starting gun to a race, signaled both warriors to engage.
Streaks of black and blue erupted through the clash of blades.
The unbreakable? Or the adaptable?
Which will surpass the other?