Chapter 2: Blades
The two newfound allies set out to find where they were. Strider figured he was in the same forest, but had just gotten lost.
The two men both shared a similar trait: Not talking unless they have to. For most of their exploration, they remained silent, although Guts' silent was as quiet as he could be when his total weight with his gear almost doubled Strider's.
"So, you know this land well?" Guts inquired. "Maybe we'll find a landmark you recognize."
Strider looked disappointed in himself. He knew this land better than most, probably everyone. He knew every creek, hollow, and almost every bird's nest. For him to get lost... well, that hasn't happened in decades. He hasn't used a map since he was a young man, as they were all less accurate to his own memory, but now he wished he had one. He had a task to do, and this journey had to be quick. It was trusted to him, as he was the fastest traveler through this land, but now he was failing.
"I know this forest well, yes," Strider answered. "I've traveled it many times, over many years, and I have never lost my way. This may sound foolish, Guts, but I think there is some evil at work here."
The forest changing, as well as the strange Mordor-spawn that attacked them earlier, this is not natural. Strider was not prepared for the possibility of a large-scale attack like that. All he had was his sword, knife, and few throwing knives. He hadn't brought his bow, to save on weight. To Strider, his bow was almost as useful as his blade, but something told him that with his new companion, there wouldn't be much worry in combat. This gargantuan man had an impossible swing-speed for a sword so big. No, not a sword, more like a heap of raw iron. Strider, always preparing for possible outcomes, knew that if they crossed blades, Guts' would be unblockable. Strider would have to dodge, but no, Guts was fast, too. There would be no hope for Strider. As much as he hated the thought, he knew he would have to flee, unless he was able to utilize his surroundings to his advantage, like a clever coward.
"I know you want to hold it." Guts said, seemingly reading Strider's mind. He pulled the blade from it's strange tether. He held it forward for Strider, with only one hand.
Strider wanted to feel the weight of the weapon to gauge it's power. It was surely lighter than it appeared, as there was no man who could swing an object of such size. He reached his hands onto the handle, and Guts, released it's full weight onto Strider. The tip of the sword swung down with little resistance. Strider held on to the handle, keeping that end of the blade off the ground.
"Ahaha!" Guts laughed. "I've yet to find a man with enough strength to lift this sucker. At least you didn't drop it, or get crushed by it like most men."
Strider, was amazed at the weight of the weapon, but he wasn't done yet. He closed his eyes, straightened his back, and, very slowly, the tip of the sword left the dirt. The sword raised into the air slowly, to the amazement of Guts. Strider opened his eyes, a calm look on his face. The blade now standing straight up in his hands. He held it in front of his face, as he did with his own sword.
"Hit me," Guts commanded Strider. "Swing it at me."
Strider knew immediately what Guts was thinking. He would side-step from the strike, just to test Strider's might. He would swing his best, and the speed from the blade's fall would tell Guts exactly how strong he was. Well, he wasn't going to waste this opportunity. He swung the blade at Guts with all his might.
The sword fell, but not all the way. It stopped, right where Guts' head was. Strider looked up, knowing his new companion was now dead. What he saw, rather than a mutilated skull, was the black swordsman's gloved hand gripping the blade. He had caught the swing!
Guts tore the sword from Strider's hands, still using only one hand. He sheathed it.
"You're the strongest man I've met," he said as he turned away. "You've impressed and interested me, Strider. I wouldn't want to fight you."
The last sentence surprised Strider, but he kept his neutral face, as he always did. Neither man had seen each other's eyes yet, as they both wore deep hoods. Strider could only imagine what Guts' face would look like. His arms were fully covered in scars, as of he never cared about defense.
Strider knew just how powerful a swing from Guts would be. He remembered to never let himself get caught at the end of it. With this newfound knowledge in both their minds, they continued into the unknown forest.
Some hours later, they still hadn't found any recognizable scenery. Every few minutes, Strider would crouch down and inspect the path, never finding signs of tracks, ever. The men carried on past hills, streams, lakes and empty caves. Strider was now thoroughly agitated at is loss of direction.
"If we can reach a high point, uncovered by trees, then I may be able to tell our course," Strider informed Guts. The problem was, the forest was so thick that it was impossible to see any hills or valleys. All they could do was follow this trail, that stretched on into infinity. All the while, Strider wondered about Guts' stamina, He showed no signs of fatigue, despite their ceaseless journey for the past day.
The sun was going down. Guts pulled his sword.
"They're going to be back, Strider. Those demons. I'd recommend finding somewhere nice and dark to hide, unless you're ready to fight." Guts finally removed his hood. Strider didn't care about his face, only about the stream of blood pouring down one side of his neck. It came from the same spot Guts held onto tightly when the demons attacked the first time. Strider put the clues together.
"Your neck, it senses these... demons, you called them?"
This was the first time anyone figured that out without Guts having to tell them. Once again, Guts was impressed.
"Yeah, this mark on my neck tells when they're near. Helpful, but it hurts like hell."
Strider's hood remained over his face, which Guts questioned.
"How are you able to see in the night with a hood over your eyes?" Guts asked.
"There is always light to see, Guts," Strider said, looking into the sky through the trees. "Whether it be from the moon's reflection on the tip of a blade, or the sound of a rushing enemy. You see, in combat, sight is not only visual. It is a swordsman's duty to use all his senses to detect threats, this includes sound and smell. If you place your life on your eyes, they will betray you."
Guts put a hand over his missing eye. He remembered how he lost it, and it triggered memories of the worst day of his life. He become angry with Strider's philosophy.
"What a load of crap," Guts projected, rather loudly. He approached Strider's left side, remaining within an area obscured by Strider's hood.
"How's this for sight!?" Guts yelled as he threw a strong punch at Strider. Without looking, Strider brought his left hand up in an instant and caught the blow, stopping it dead. Guts was shocked. This man had just stopped his punch with one hand, without even looking! Strider was strong. Very strong. This was a fact Guts would make sure to remember. He pulled his hand away.
"Maybe there is something to this technique," Guts wondered out loud. "Maybe I'll try it out sometime."
The men readied their weapons, Guts standing casually, with one hand on the handle of his sword, it resting on his shoulder, and Strider, with both hands on the handle of his longsword, the flat of the blade an inch from his nose. They stood back to back, watching and listening carefully. They saw and heard nothing... until the peace was disrupted by the ground rumbling lightly.
Strider changed his stance, placing his left foot forward, and shifting his blade to the right of his head. The ground shook more, and it was apparent that it was caused by footsteps, as it shook, then stopped, then shook, then stopped again. Strider figured it must be a large troop marching in unison, or perhaps a battle elephant. But an elephant all the way on this side of the country? Unlikely.
"Oh, this must be a big one," Guts said in a joking tone. "These ones are always fun."
Strider disregarded Guts' comfort with the situation, and opted to focus on the battle at hand. The ground shook so hard, it caused both men to stumble.
"What is this beast? Another demon?" Strider asked Guts, both of them facing the same direction now.
"I'm not sure, but it's big and it's ugly, I'll tell you that."
The sound of trees falling over became present. Whatever creature was approaching, it was strong enough to push over trees with ease. Then, the sound stopped. The men didn't break their gaze.
The three trees closest to them were suddenly gripped by massive, hairy appendages. They ripped the trees straight out of the ground, and a 50-foot monster sprang forth from the gap. It shrieked a horrible sound. The monster had no reason to it's appearance: It was shaped like a mound, with a 30-ft base in diameter, thinning all the way to the stop, which had it's head. The creature had no eyes, and a small mouth, relatively speaking. It's body was covered in patches of hair and massive gash wounds that poured out oceans of black liquid.
Strider backed up, unsure of how to approach the situation. He had never seen a creature of such... mass. There was little hope.
"Guts!" He yelled. "We must fall back!"
Guts remained, his brow contorted into a pondering frown. Was Guts really sizing up this monster? He would be killed in an instant.
The monster roared and slammed a tree into the ground, Guts avoiding it casually. He jumped onto the beast's tree-weapon, and started running up it towards the monster's core. He readied his blade for a strike, while Strider watched on in awe. Guts was extremely skilled, despite his strange tactics.
As Guts was about to land a blow, a thin, black arm shot out from one of the gashes on the monster, catching Guts by surprise and smashing into him with incredible force. The impact launched him into the air, and he landed on his head behind Strider, knocking him out. Strider saw his ally fallen, and turned to see the monster approaching them. He had to think fast, but there was no possible attack that could damage this thing. All he could think of was to climb up the monster and stab it's head. Somehow. Strider ran to the monster, causing it to attack with one of it's trees. Strider dodged the attack and mirrored Guts idea. He climbed up the tree, but he knew the black arm was coming. He reacted to it's swing, chopping the dripping appendage, severing it from the monster. It turned to liquid and splashed to the ground.
Strider jumped onto the monster and gripped it's hair. The beast screeched and shook hard, causing Strider to hold on tightly. It would be near impossible to climb through all this shaking. Luckily, the monster eventually tired itself, and the shaking lessened, allowing Strider to scale up the beast. The climb was long, and eventually he was above the trees. He could see his target. He was about to reach the top when three black arms sprang forth from different wounds, all darting to him at once. Strider was able to strike one into liquid, but the two gripped his neck tight, and hoisted him up. He was brought in front of the monster's supposed face, most likely to have a good look at the man. The monster made a displeased sound, and the black arms tightened their grip around his neck, strangling him. The arms were both freezing cold and burning hot. Strider dropped his sword, and tried to pry the arms off him, to no avail. He could feel his consciousness slipping, as the dark sky became darker...
Suddenly, the monster made a horrible shriek, that seemed to wake up Strider slightly. It faced it's head away, and began trembling. The arms dropped Strider, and he fell several feet before grabbing onto more hair. The black arms covered the monster's face, and it recoiled in distress. Strider took this chance to climb up to the top again, without the monster even noticing his presence. It was too occupied with something that has caused it to panic. Strider drew his elven knife, and plunged it into the beast's skull. The blade sizzled as it passed into the monster, and the monster's black arms blasted into liquid. The same black liquid rocketed from the stab wound, covering Strider in the freezing and burning material. He couldn't grip onto the hair, as it was covered in the liquid and slippery. Strider fell, and tumbled down the mountain of a creature until he hit the hard ground, where he lay for several minutes before slipping into darkness.
The sun rose, and all was quiet. The forest sung in the breeze, allowing rays of sunlight to shine through the leaves and illuminate the ground. Strider was woken by something soft rubbing his face. It had a moisture to it, and he felt his face dampening. He opened his eyes to see a female deer licking his face. He turnt his head to stop the barrage, unsuccessfully. He put his hand on the deer's head and pat it, as if to say hello. He also became aware that he was leaning against an oak tree, with birds on the branches and squirrels running around the ground near him. He looked over to see a man sitting on a stump, shrouded by his cloak. He was staring back at Strider. There were no animals near him.
"They've been there for hours," Guts said. "They've been watching over you while you rested, like you're their master or something."
Strider looked around, noticing hares, frogs, and even a fox. He rose, and the animals dispersed at the sight of him healthy.
"What is with you, anyway," Guts asked. "I can't tell, but there's something different about you. Do you practice magic?"
"No magic, but an interesting history," Strider answered partly. He noticed his sheath was empty. He looked to Guts to ask about his sword, and saw it sailing towards him. He got it by the handle and inspected the blade. No damage,that's good. He sunk it into the sheath and felt better right away.
"How the hell did you take this thing down," Guts asked.
Strider noticed Guts was sitting by the monster's body, and remembered the trials of last night. He pondered for a moment, remembering that the monster was defeated because something caused it to lose focus.
"Nice necklace," Guts joked, pointing to an emblem hanging on a chain around Strider's neck. He always kept it tucked inside his chainmail, so it must've fallen out during the fight.
Then, Strider figured it out.
"Guts, the beast had me, and I was seconds from death," Strider explained. "Then, it seemed to have saw something that caused great distress, giving me ample time to land the final strike. Guts, I think this emblem fell out during the fight."
"And you think it caused the demon to freak out? Is that thing covered in elf dust or something?" Guts questioned.
"It was made by elves, yes." Strider held the unique-looking emblem that Arwen had given him. Could this be enchanted? To protect him?
"That's the answer, then." Guts responded. "Demons HATE elvish stuff."
"The final attack was delivered by this knife," Strider told, as he spotted the knife on the ground by the body. It had landed where he had. He picked it up and sheathed it. "This knife is also elvish, the demon was killed in one stab."
Guts rose from his seat. "Remember that, Strider. Demons are weak against anything elvish. Keep that in mind, it could save your life. Now come on, we've gotta find our way outta here."
The men checked their gear and set off down the path again, leaving the maggots to feast on the demon's corpse.