Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Akame ga Kill franchise and this fanfiction has not been written for profit!
A/N: We've once again made our way to another new chapter! My apologies about the delay! I've pretty much been done with this chapter since the beginning of August, but there are a few things here and there that have kept me from releasing it. I've been pretty indecisive about certain elements of the fights. Be warned, this is a long chapter (15,000 words by my count), but unlike chapter 6, is pretty action packed throughout. Hopefully, the subsection titles are useful enough to allow you to read at your own leisure.
Just read the latest chapter of AKG. Can guarantee you my ending is not going to be anything like what we're seeing there. I really don't like the idea of Esdeath being Akame's final opponent. It just seems so much more fitting for it to be Tatsumi, given their history. Oh well.
As always, thanks for your support, readers! And awwwwwwaaaaay we go!
Episode 28: Kill the End Game: Part One (Updated on 6/26/18 to fix grammatical/spelling issues and tweak the narrative)
Within the imperial throne room, many gasps were heard in response to the flyer the frantic court official had been ordered to read. Countless whispers quickly followed, primarily concerning Night Raid's boldness in informing the emperor of their intent to assassinate him as well as the fact that they'd even attempt such a mission now that the Revolutionary Army had been eradicated.
"What could they be playing at?", the Prime Minister wondered, still rubbing the whiskers on his beard. "There can't be any more than ten of them at this point. A direct attack on the capital with their pathetic numbers is suicide."
Syura, on the other hand, sniggered at the shocking news that had just been uttered. "Perhaps they ARE feeling suicidal, old man. Maybe they're hoping to go out in one final blaze of glory. I say we give it to them . . . MINUS the glory of course."
Emperor Makoto was surprisingly calm, despite the stated threat on his life just now. He turned to his most trusted adviser. "Night Raid can't be serious about this, can they? If so, how should we respond?"
The gluttonous prime minister sported a devilish smirk, the wheels in his head having been turning ever since hearing this plot of an assassination. He turned to face all of the officials in the room, acting as if he were the one in command. "It has occurred to me that my son is most correct. It's obvious that they are dismayed about their humiliating failure down south and are looking to make up for it with their lives. I say we grant their request. Man all the soldiers we have outside the palace gates and near every exterior entrance. See to it that no one breaches the palace walls; kill anyone who dares try. Maintain this position until his majesty says otherwise."
[. . . . Clash . . . .]
Shortly after the Prime Ministers command, thousands of battle ready imperial soldiers were rushing to the palace gates. To an observer, it would be like watching ants mobilizing out of a thick ant hill after a child prodded it with a stick. Soldiers were swarming around all of the palace's exterior entrances with such numbers; little wonder that Najenda's father had felt the need to raise an entire army before conceiving any plans to challenge them.
Even so, there was an air duct, 3 feet wide and 3 feet tall, hovering two stories above the palace's front doors. The duct's exterior was covered by a grated vent. Behind the vent was none other than a crouched Leone who was watching the soldiers down below with much amusement. "It's just as you said they'd do, boss! They're all scrambling to keep us out, having no idea that we're already in."
Lubbock was present as well, less focused on what the soldiers outside were doing and more focused on crawling further inside the air duct. "If for some reason they all come back inside the palace, we're toast."
Akame was ahead of Lubbock, but crawling in the same direction. "We'll see to it that that doesn't happen."
In front of the pack was none other than Najenda herself, who had a metallic cylinder strapped to her prosthetic arm; evidently the replacement for the prosthetic hand Esdeath had destroyed during their last encounter. "Just remember: Stick to the plan at all times. Follow it to the letter; not a single deviation."
And so the assassins ventured through the air duct, tipping off no one to their presence. It was a long and dust ridden journey, but they eventually reached a proverbial fork in the road; there was a point at which the duct split off into two different directions.
Najenda ceased crawling before taking a good look at the two paths before her. "Good. We've reached the split off point in Chelsea's diagram."
Leone sighed. "So this is me and Akame's cue to skidoo, huh? Awe and here I was hoping to get a chance to at least get a peek at our coffee haired companion in action. After these last five days, there's no telling what he can do now."
"Coffee haired companion?", Lubbock jeered with the raise of an eyebrow. "Who the heck talks like that?"
"You know! Our coffee haired swordsman? Our coffee haired assassin? Do I need to spell it out?"
He scoffed. "Yes! Yes you do! Never say that again! Just call him Tatsumi, damnit!"
"If you two do your jobs and this mission is a success, you can bicker back and forth all you like", Najenda remarked, rolling her eyes. "Right now, focus on the task at hand!"
"You hear that, Akame?", Leone snickered. "The boss lady is getting snippy! We'd best make a move on, unlike SOME people."
"What's that supposed to mean?", Lubbock growled.
"Oh I think you know", Leone said with a wink before crawling her way into the left duct.
Akame followed suit, briefly turning her head to say "Be careful you two" before taking the left path as well.
Naturally, this left the other two assassins with no other place to go than the right path. They traipsed forth, perhaps a total of 200 descending yards before reaching a dead end. Another grated vent was all that blocked the pair. Najenda peered through it, ascertaining whether there was anyone immediately outside.
On the other side of the vent was a wide open area the size of a football field. It was the palace courtyard; an enclosed ceiling-free luxurious area that greatly resembled a miniature park. Seeing no one around, the Night Raid commander kicked the vent off its hinges, jumped out from within the air duct and landed on the ground.
Lubbock did the same thereafter, taking a moment to look around upon regaining his footing. He couldn't help but notice several multi-story statues of the Prime Minister's likeness towering throughout the area. "Score one for bad taste."
Najenda began walking towards a set of stairs on the other side of the courtyard, noting that there was an open set of double doors at the top of them leading back into the palace. "That's not even the worst of it. When I was still a general, Honest had been talking about plans to have a monument of his likeness erected in every town and village throughout the empire and that everyone be made to pay tribute to these monuments or else face public execution."
Lubbock followed her, continuing the conversation as he walked alongside his commander. "It's as if all that fat tub of lard knows is causing other people pain and suffering."
"Indeed. Seeing someone like him in power was what finally pushed my father far enough to 'reinterpret' some of his own teachings and use his influence to begin starting a rebellion."
Hearing his commander say this gave Lubbock some pause; hearing her mention her father dredged up sudden thoughts of what she had ordered him to do during that dreadful night at the Revolutionary Army base. She had wanted him to take her father, leave the island and use the organizations funds to restore the Lord's mental health. She may have been a sharp and taciturn tactician, but she was still a human being; she still had a heart. Thoughts and feelings that nonetheless reminded Lubbock of his own heart, what he wanted and what he yearned for.
Noticing that she wasn't hearing the sound of her subordinate's footsteps, Najenda paused as well, shirking her head back with some slight annoyance. "This is not the time to dawdle, Lubbock. Don't forget that you've got a job to do."
"Hey Miss Najenda", he said, averting his eyes averted away from her.
"What?"
"Don't get me wrong here. When it comes to coming up with strategies, you're the best in this whole damn country. So I don't doubt for a minute that your tactics will win us the day here . . ."
She sighed, sensing that he had more to say. "There's a 'but', isn't there?"
A reluctant smile appeared on Lubbock's face; not an ordinary smile by any means, but one with a hint of guised melancholy behind it. "First it was Sheele, then it was Bulat, then it was Chelsea, then it was Su and then it was Mein. I . . . I can't help but get the idea that maybe one of us is next."
Najenda swiftly turned back around, continuing to walk in the direction she was headed. "We're assassins, Lubbock. Death, including our own, comes with the trade. Just don't make it a self-fulfilling prophecy."
"I know that. And if I have to die today, I'm okay with that. But . . . that's not my problem."
"Then why are you bringing this up?"
"Because . . . well because you, Miss Najenda. I've thought long and hard about it, but I don't want to die with any regrets . . ."
"Regrets? And what do you mean 'because me?", she asked with a strong hint of confusion in her voice. "What are you talking-mmmmph!"
Before she had even realized it, Lubbock had grabbed her left hand from behind with his own, pulled her back, spun her around and buried his lips against hers, gently cradling the left side of her face with his right hand as he did. His eyes were closed.
Najenda's eye's however, were wide open, widening by the moment. Her heart was pounding. Her cheeks were flushing. As much as the veteran tactician endeavored to expect the unexpected, this moment was clearly beyond her expectations. She felt herself being bombarded with an intense wave of emotions she was not prepared to deal with.
He gently pulled away, gazing upon her shock ridden face. He too was the type who liked to plan and think ahead. In this instance though, he had acted impulsively. Too impulsively in fact. So much so that he was besides himself, beginning to second guess what he had just done.
They both stood there for a couple of moments, gazing upon one another. Neither was certain what to say or do next. Lubbock, about to open his mouth, prepared to at least apologize for his sudden outburst. His effort to speak was interrupted however.
At that exact moment, a dreaded figure had leapt off a balcony high above the courtyard and had landed right next to the two assassins. Both Lubbock and Najenda had suddenly forgotten what had transpired between them moments ago, their full attention focused on the current threat before them.
"Ah, Esdeath", Najenda casually remarked, having suddenly regained her composure in a fashion only an veteren actress would be capable of. "I presume you've heard about our gracious offer to the emperor."
The Ice Queen stood fully upright, dexterously unsheathing her long rapier in one fluid motion. And she was sporting her usual smug smirk . . . the conceited look of invincibility. "Indeed I have, which is why I've come to give you a counter-offer: Surrender now and I promise to only torture you to death for one month as opposed to two."
"We'll pass.", Najenda replied.
"That's fine by me", Esdeath said with a slight shrug of the shoulders. "While we're here though, why don't you enlighten me on what's going on in that brain of yours. We both know you're not a fool; you had to have known you couldn't possibly have pulled such a hair brained scheme without first coming up with a way to deal with me. Hmm?"
To which Najenda reacted, sporting a smug look of her own, as if daring the general to attack. "You're clever. Figure it out on your own."
Esdeath took a moment to ruminate her rival's demeanor. "What could she be up to? No matter. Worst case scenario, I can always stop time. Cut off the chicken's head and the body will scramble around without any direction. Eliminate her first and the others will be lost like sheep without a shepard. I can handle them at my leisure."
Firmly holding the handle of her rapier, the Ice Queen hurriedly lunged towards her nemesis, the tip of the blade on a collision course with the Night Raid commander's skull. Her speed was far too great for Najenda to avoid, much less react to. Even so, Najenda maintained her composure. And with good reason!
There was suddenly a clang heard throughout the entire courtyard; two blades clashed. Esdeath's long rapier against none other than Incursio in its dormant short-sword state. And like a streak of light, Tatsumi was suddenly on the scene; he stood across from the Ice Queen, firmly holding the handle of his sword with his right hand, blades locked, his eyes every bit as red and his demeanor every bit as calm as he had been during the second phase of his duel with General Budo. He was wearing a different outfit however; a high collared blue sweater and a white long jacket.
Opportunistic as ever, Najenda seized the opportunity to grab Lubbock's hand and began running back towards the large set of open double doors she had endeavored to head towards in the first place. "We'll leave this in your capable hands, Tatsumi!"
Yet the fact that her primary quarry was fleeing the scene didn't appear to be of any concern to the Ice Queen. All thoughts of dealing with Najenda as soon as possible were flushed out of her mind. The man she loved was standing before her and had her undivided attention. For the moment, nothing else in the world mattered. Absolutely nothing else. She looked upon him, the look in her eyes rather stern. "Why are you here today, Tatsumi? Is it to assassinate the emperor?"
"No", he responded, still maintaining the blade lock. "I'm here to stop you."
She narrowed her eyes, tightening the grip on her rapier as she did. "Then it's just as I suspected. Come then, Tatsumi. Because it is you, I shall make this quick and painless."
With a quick flick of the wrist of her sword hand, she broke out of the blade lock, simultaneously knocking Tatsumi's sword hand away. She followed up with a thrust, squarely aimed at the Incursio wielder's chest; she had intended to pierce his heart, assuring just the sort of swift death she had promised him.
Were this the same Tatsumi she had faced a week ago, this certainly would have set a record for the world's quickest duel. But as a combatant, this Tatsumi was worlds apart from the other one. His expression ever so calm, he sharply turned his body to the left, causing her blade to fly right past its intended destination.
"His speed", she thought, not having seen him pull off such a move in their previous encounter. But a single unexpected movement wasn't about to stop the Ice Queen from doing what she had set out to do. In that brief instant, she pulled her rapier back, only to hurl another thrust, this one aimed at the young man's head.
Tatsumi evaded this follow-up attack as well, slightly bending his knees to duck the tip of his adversary's blade. Another thrust came as we he was evading the previous one, but this one too was avoided through sharply weaving his body to the right.
Esdeath was now firing an entire series of vicious rapid thrusts, much like the ones she had used against him back at the Revolutionary Army fortress. She was determined to end the battle just as she said she would, causing the man she loved the least amount of pain possible. But despite her seemingly noble intentions, not a single one of the thrusts could land, much less even graze Tatsumi's skin. He had gone from being unable to even react to this kind of assault to being capable of dealing with it as if it were a morning exercise.
As she hurled another thrust, the Incursio wielder did more than just evade. He stepped forward while bending his knees and ducking the tip of the incoming blade. In the split second the Ice Queen was retracting her rapier, Tatsumi moved in with an attack of his own, using his right hand to horizontally swipe his sword towards her left rib cage.
Esdeath looked startled in the split instant she noticed this; she did a backflip several feet away, narrowly avoiding Tatsumi's move as a result. If not for the range advantage her weapon afforded her, she may not have been able to dodge in time. "It's not just his speed. His skills have also changed. Drastically at that. And he's doing all of this without wearing his accursed armor. Could it have something to do with those red eyes? And why is he so calm? When he's fighting, he's usually full of nervous energy."
Tatsumi didn't give chase; he simply stood in place, holding the hilt of his blade parallel to his right leg. "Esdeath", he stated in an assured and declarative fashion, his eyes suddenly glowing red like they had against Budo. "I'm not the same person you fought a week ago so you might want to start taking me a little more seriously."
"Oh?" Like a daring swashbuckler, she stiffly pointed her blade in the Incursio wielder's direction, facing him with her right foot forward and her left foot behind about a shoulders' width with the back foot perpendicular to the front foot. The en-garde position; a legitimate fencing stance. It was clear she was about to do just that and take the duel a little more seriously. "If you insist, Tatsumi. Show me how much you've improved."
[. . . . Look Before You Leap . . . .]
Elsewhere in the imperial palace, within one of the many kitchens, a chef was hard at work in stirring and seasoning a dish on the stove. As he continued to stir, he noticed dust sprinkling into his cooking pot. He frantically looked up to see where the dust was coming from only to notice that grated air vent on the ceiling was wide open. As he noticed this, he felt someone tapping him on the shoulder from behind.
The perplexed chef turned around, his eyes greeted by the sight of a whimsical Leone. Unfortunately for him, said greeting was followed quickly by a goodbye as the feral assassin proceeded to knock him out with surprisingly powerful flick to the forehead with her index finger.
She then proceeded to dip her finger in the cooking pot and briefly taste what was being prepared. "Blech. This must be for the Prime Minister. Way too greasy."
"It's just as the boss predicted", Akame chimed in, clearly having just taken a peak outside the kitchen. "No guards are patrolling the hallway. This is probably the correct floor."
The feral assassin eagerly punched her right fist into her left palm. "Then the Emperor's panic room is not too far away."
"Assuming the boss' prediction is correct anyway. We don't yet know for certain whether they deliberately minimized security on this floor."
To which Leone smirked. "What other reason could there be other than to trick us into thinking that the Emperor is on another floor? I'm betting the hallways on the other floors are damn packed with guards."
Akame cautiously peaked her head out into the hallway again before gesturing her comrade to follow. "Just be on your guard. Even if the boss did plan this, it seems way too easy so far."
The two of them looked at one another with mutual understanding, nodding their heads before venturing out into the hallway nearby. A hallway which, as Akame suggested, was devoid of palace guards. A fact that indeed appeared to be the result of some kind of clever scheming as Leone suggested. Nevertheless, it was a fact the red eyed assassin remained skeptical of.
They crossed the entire hallway, eventually reaching an archway that led outside to a straight and linear stone fenced walkway along the palace walls. "Look", Leone commented, pointing to what was noticeably a bastion on the other side. "Not too much further."
Akame strode forward, catching a glimpse at the thousands of armed imperial soldiers down below unwaveringly guarding the palace walls. She made a mental note of how high she was; both she and Leone have traveled seventeen stories up through the palace air vents. With the soldiers all keeping watch at ground level, surely none would notice them. She began to wonder if perhaps her suspicions were unfounded.
But Leone, on the other hand, suddenly froze. She had been walking behind Akame, but stopped like a deer in the forest hearing a suspicious sound nearby. The feral assassin's sensitive feline ears had tingled. Someone, something, was nearby. Or rather, was approaching at a high pace. "AKAME, GET DOWN!", she yelled while leaping towards her fellow assassin.
At that very moment, a ball of fire rapidly descended onto the walkway, exploding upon impact. The sheer concussive force of the blast sent both of the assassins flying multiple yards towards the entrance of the bastion they had been walking towards.
This attack was so unexpected that Akame had only just now wrapped her mind around what had just occurred. Leone had tackled her to the ground and used her own body to shield her from the flames. Akame looked upon her comrade at the first opportunity, noticing the flames dancing upon her back, even at that moment. "Leone!", she cried.
"I'll be fine", the feral assassin responded, clearly in pain but obviously full of bravado. "As long as I don't have to regrow my intestines again, I'll be fine. Seriously, that sucked."
A dragon's screech could suddenly be heard. A familiar screech at that. Both Akame and Leone regained their footing, only to notice Kurome flying towards them on the back of her newly acquired dragon.
"Go on ahead", Akame said, her eyes completely and resolutely focused on her younger sister.
"Are you insane?", Leone retorted. "How are you supposed to fight her by yourself while she's riding that thing?"
"Ever since our duel in Ali Jinnah, I knew I'd be fighting my sister again. The fact that she now possesses an ultra-class danger beast doesn't change a thing. She won't hesitate to kill anyone besides me in the conventional sense and I'd rather keep it one on one anyway. Besides, we can't really afford to slow down. Get going."
Leone wanted to help her companion, but couldn't help but see the logic in her words. Engaging a flying opponent together would surely consume time; time she knew she didn't have. There was no telling when or if reinforcements would be sent into the area and her mission objective was clear. Thus, with a reluctant nod of her head, she promptly began running towards the bastion on the other side of the walkway. "Don't you dare die on me, Akame!"
As Leone ran, Kurome descended closer to the walker, finally having her dragon hover above it as she stood atop its head. She then cheerfully gazed upon her older sister. "We meet again, sis! Sorry about not saying hello last time. I was a bit preoccupied with cleaning up Revolutionary Army scum and didn't want you to get caught in the crossfire. I did go look for you in that fortress after I was done, but you were already long gone. But that's all water under the bridge. What's important is that you're here now!"
"Kurome", the red eyed assassin said, reaching for an item in her pocket. "Don't make me do this. There must still be some part of you that hasn't been corrupted by that accursed weapon of yours. You're still my sister."
"You don't have to do anything, sis. Just sit tight right there. I've been practicing with my pet here. Now I can have him use fireballs that don't completely kill whatever they hit. Don't you see what this means? Even if you do get burned, as long as I use yatsufusa to stab you in a vital area in time, we can still be together forever! And don't worry about the burns. Yatsufusa will make you as good as new after I'm done!"
Doing her best to disregard her sister's madness, Akame removed her hand from her pocket, revealing the antique music box she had obtained in Ali Jinnah. "Please tell me you still remember this!"
Kurome's eyes widened. A glimpse of the past flashed throughout her mind. She could tell that the item Akame was holding in her hands was very important to the two of them. More important than anything else. "That's . . . that's . . ." But alas, she fervently shook her head, pushing all thoughts and sentimental feelings towards that item aside. "Whatever that is, it's unimportant, sis. The only trinket we need is Yatsufusa. As long as we have that, we'll always be together."
"I see", Akame said with a reluctant sigh while placing the music box back into her pocket. She then unsheathed her trusty imperial arm, Murasame, as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "What happened to you is my fault. As your older sister, it's my job to protect you. I should have never allowed them to separate us when were children. Forgive me Kurome, but this is the only thing I can do for you at this point."
Kurome remained cheerful, albeit with a somewhat more psychotic disposition. "You're confused sis. Again, don't worry. I'll make everything right no matter how much you resist!" Just as she said this, the ultra-class danger beast she was sitting upon opened its mouth, flames on the verge of pouring out. Yet another fireball came flying out, this one aimed directly at Akame.
However, Akame's guard wasn't down this time; she was ready to react. By the time the fireball had hit the ground she had been standing upon, she was already out of the way. She had evidently jumped into the air at blinding speed. Kurome noticed this, looking up into the air above her, only to see Akame descending down with a downward swing of her blade
The black eyed Jaegar parried her sister's swing with an unsheathed Yatsufusa. At the same time, she mentally ordered her puppet to hurriedly flap its wings and soar into the sky. Completely unprepared for this dragon's sudden movements, Akame lost her balance, subsequently falling off the ultra class beast as a result.
In a split second, she looked down below her, realizing that she'd fall to her death as the dragon had already moved well past the walkway she had been standing upon initially. With no time to lose, she quickly used her left hand to grab the only thing in her reach; she latched onto the tip of the dragon's tail. She looked down once more, only to notice that the imperial palace was becoming smaller and smaller from her viewpoint.
Even still, Kurome sat patiently on the dragon's neck, undaunted by the heights she was soaring. "I've been testing out my newest pet here all week. I've already gotten used to breathing at this altitude. The cold air too! A real bummer if you haven't trained yourself to adapt to it. I wonder how long you'll be able to withstand it! Let me know when you pass out, 'kay sis?"
It was at this point that the red eyed assassin cursed under her breath. Her younger sister could have easily continued attacking from a distance, no doubt the most logical course of action against an opponent who can only fight at close range. Instead, Kurome intentionally got close, knowing full well that Akame would seize the opportunity to attack and inadvertently place herself into this very predicament.
Akame carefully placed the blade of her imperial arm into her mouth, holding the weapon in place with her teeth alone. She was careful about her movements, given how sharp Murasame was. Even the slightest of wrong movements could result in her getting cut and subsequently killed by the blade's ethereal venom.
With the sword carefully in place, she started climbing up the dragon's tail. She did her best not to pay close attention to the altitude she was at as there was no telling how far they were from entering the stratosphere. Right hand, left foot, right foot, left hand. The pace at which she climbed was steady. But as she moved further up, she felt her lungs swelling. The air was becoming thinner by the second and it was becoming harder to breathe. With a week of training, perhaps she could endure this like her sister was evidently, but that wasn't an option. She knew she had to get this beast to the ground as soon as possible or she would indeed pass out.
Squeezing both of her legs around the dragon's tail as leverage, she carefully pulled her sword out from her mouth and thrusted the tip against its skin. To her surprise, however, despite the sharpness of her imperial arm, it didn't even muster a scratch in the ultra-class beast's skin. She had heard dragon scales were tough, but never would've imagined they were this resilient.
Kurome, meanwhile continued to sit upon her puppet's neck, her head turned just enough to see how her sister was progressing. She smirked whimsically at the sight, fascinated by her sister's struggle. "It's useless, sis. If Yatsufusa can't cut its skin, Murasame can't either."
[. . . . Wine in Front of Me. . . .]
Lubbock and Najenda, meanwhile, were in a separate area of the palace. The two of them were running alongside one another in a hallway, no palace guards in sight. As they made their way to the end of the hallway, Najenda immediately ceased sprinting, simultaneously stopping her green haired subordinate with her left hand. She then placed her index finger over her lips, gesturing him to be silent.
The hallway had split off into two different hallways. Najenda had ceaned up against the wall adjacent to the corridor on the left. She then peaked her head out towards the corresponding corridor to see if the coast was clear only to spot a noticeably mundane door nearby.
"No guards around", Lubbock whispered, having also taken a peak down the hallway to the right. "One of the emperor's panic rooms, maybe?"
"Possibly", she replied, rubbing her chin contemplatively. "We should . . ."
Lubbock had his eyes fixated on the door nearby. It took him a few moments to realize his commander hadn't finished her sentence. "We should what?" He turned his head back towards her, only to notice that she had looking down the hallway to the left; she looked as if she had seen a ghost. "Miss Najenda?"
The Night Raid commander swiftly regained her composure. "I'm going on ahead. Ascertain whether or not the emperor is actually in that room. When you're finished, proceed precisely as planned."
"You're not planning on doing something suicidal again, are you?"
Najenda sighed, recalling his insubordination at the Revolutionary Army fortress. "What would be the point? If I did, you'd just disobey orders again."
Knowing that his commander wasn't about to again recklessly put her life on the line put a smile on the green haired assassin's face. "Can't argue with you there."
She began to walk away, into the left hallway. "And while you're at it, try not to die. I'd hate for you to have to miss out on the awkward conversation we're going to have once all of this is over."
Frantic thoughts filled Lubbock's mind as he heard this. He immediately began rubbing his face into the palm of his hand. "Awkward conversation?! Oh shit. Did I screw up back there? I screwed up, didn't I? Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Holy shit! Maybe I should just let myself get killed! I'm gonna die of embarrassment at this rate anyway!"
Lubbock did his best to shake away his anxieties; he knew he needed his mind to be sharp and focused. He walked towards the mundane door in the right hallway, placing his hand on the door handle and turning the knob. It was locked. "Not to worry", he thought, using his wires to form a makeshift lock pick.
Within ten seconds, he managed to unlock the door, entering the room in hopes of seeing a sign of the emperor. His eyes wandered as he noticed various lavish paintings all throughout the room's walls. To Lubbock's disgust, they were all depictions of the Prime Minister in a glorious light; it was clearly an art gallery of sorts tailor made to his honor, almost as if he were the emperor. Alas, no one appeared to be present.
He nonetheless continued to look around the room anyway, eventually walking over a Persian rug in one of the corners. He immediately noticed a slight but hollow echo as he stepped foot on the rug. "Could it be?" he thought, immediately deciding to bend down and pull the rug up. To his fortune, he stumbled upon a trap door. "Jackpot."
"Let's see what you're hiding down here", he thought, pulling the door up and seeing a downward spiral stairway with lit torches held in place alongside the walls. Wasting no time, he proceeded to head down these stairs, making certain to close the trap door above him before fully venturing in.
Lubbock found himself traipsing down multiple flights of these torch-lit stairs, growing more certain by the minute that something or rather someone awaiting him, given the trouble he had to go through simply to find this area. It had taken him a considerable amount of walking, but he finally reached the bottom of the stair way. There, he saw a silver pair of double doors before him.
Behind the doors was a sight unlike any other in the imperial palace. It was a dimly lit spacious cavern no doubt older than the palace itself and perhaps even the empire. From where Lubbock was standing, there was a narrow rail-less walkway going from the entrance to the other side of the area. The assassin peeled his eyes, only to notice a litany of holding cells and laboratory equipment.
He decided to get a closer look, stepping foot onto the narrow walkway before him. But upon taking fives steps across, on the very fifth step, the particular part of the walkway he was standing upon suddenly crumbled, sending the green haired assassin plummeting down towards what looked like a bottomless hole. "Damnit!"
The assassin wasted no time with his next action; he thrusted his right hand upward as he fell, sending a set of wires in the shape of a lasso hurling around the walkway, keeping him from falling any further and perhaps literally 'hanging by a thread.'
"Lubbock, is it?", said a familiar voice that could be heard nearby.
Still hanging from his wires, Lubbock frantically looked in the direction he heard the voice coming from. It was none other than the Jaegar's vice-commander, Run. Run was hovering in the air and slowly drawing near. "Oh great. Not this guy again."
"I wondered which of you would come down here hoping to find the emperor. You're the disguised assassin I fought in Ali-Jinnah, aren't you?"
"As observant as ever. I'm also the guy who sold you your copy of The Thirsty Games: Baldswallow! You owe me 3 pieces of gold by the way!"
A little over ten razor sharp feathers suddenly manifested next to Run as he raised his right arm. "Have whoever is in charge of your funeral forward me the bill."
Without a moment's notice, the feathers swiftly flew in Lubbock's direction with the intensity of armor piercing rounds from a semi-automatic rifle. A move to which the Night Raid member couldn't react to, much less avoid given the position he was in. Before he could even blink, every single feather prodded into his chest and stomach.
Run smirked in satisfaction at the sight of this. Unlike Esdeath, for him, the best victory was one that was swift and easy. He hovered closer towards his slain adversary, intent on making certain he was dead before heading back upstairs to help eliminate the remaining members of Night Raid. The assassin's eyes were shut and his body looked to be held up by the wires attached to the glove on his right hand, but Run was intent on making certain of his victory.
But to Run's shock, Lubbock instantly opened his eyes upon sensing that the Jaegar was within five feet of him. He quickly lashed out multiple wires from the glove on his left hand much like a whip.
"God's Wings!" Upon saying this, the two wings on Run's back suddenly took on a light ethereal blue form. He quickly flapped them in such a way as to deflect the wires.
Lubbock, meanwhile, used this opportunity to use the wires on his right hand to reel himself back up to the narrow walkway above and regain his footing. He kept his eyes squared on his opponent at all times, no doubt attempting to piece together a strategy.
Run's wings reverted back to normal and he flew up to the walkway as well, only to land on the side opposite to where the Night Raid assassin was standing. "My my. Playing dead and not attacking me 'till I got close. As tenacious as ever. How did you survive just now by the way?"
Lubbock lifted his t-shirt up, revealing a plethora of cross-tail's wires threaded around his chest and stomach. "Cut me some slack. You didn't think I'd be dumb enough to walk down some spooky stairs without being prepared, did you? I am a professional assassin after all. Didn't think you really had an answer to sudden close range attacks though. Your trump card, I take it?"
"And what if it is?"
To which the green haired assassin sighed. "Then this battle is going to a bigger pain in my ass than I thought. As long as we're in this huge cave, you'll keep your distance and use that trump card of yours to ward off anything I throw at you. And I doubt you'll give me another chance to get close."
"I must admit I find myself in a similar quandary. With that imperial arm of yours, you're quite skilled at defending yourself from my attacks. Even when your guard was down, I still couldn't finish you off. It pains me to admit it, but a fight with you is bound to take a while."
"No kidding. And no matter who loses, the victor will probably be in no shape to go help his teammates afterwards."
"I'm afraid so. No matter how you look at, it would seem the two of us have reached an impasse."
Lubbock looked around the cavern, eyes glancing at every nook and cranny they could perceive, hoping to find some method or means of circumventing this stalemate. He looked at the laboratory equipment behind the other end of the walkway once more, this time noticing two chairs and a chess table as well. It was then that he looked as if a lightbulb had gone off in his head.
Run noticed this look in his adversary's eyes. "I take it this means you've come up with a plan after all."
To which the green haired assassin grinned. "Something like that. Say, you're a pretty smart guy, right?"
"I'm too modest to boast."
"In that case, I challenge you to a battle of wits!"
"A battle of wits, huh. What brought this on?"
"One thing I've learned from going up against you is that we both like to use our heads when it comes to a fight. If we extensively rely on our imperial arms, there's no telling who will win, but we can settle things much quicker with what I have in mind."
Run smirked, intrigued by the assassin's proposal. "Hmm . . . and I presume this battle would be to the death."
"You bet!"
"Then I accept your challenge."
"Good. I'll just need to grab that chess table and those two chairs over there!", Lubbock shouted, pointing to the area behind the Jaegar.
"Retrieve whatever you like, but don't think for a moment that there's anything over there you could use to catch me by surprise."
"I'd be insulting you if I did."
Sensing no clever ploy or deception, Run flapped his wings and flew into the air. He then landed himself in front of silver double doors at the cavern's entrance, sealing off his adversary's sole escape route while observing his actions from a safe distance. Lubbock meanwhile walked to the other side of the walkway and subsequently past much of the laboratory equipment.
The assassin walked up to the holding cells. There were two thick stone pillars near them. He turned his head back towards Run, almost as if to make certain the Jaegar was paying attention before wrapping two wires around both pillars. Then, with a quick tug of both wires, both pillars split in two and collapsed.
"Impressive!", the Jaegar shouted from the other side of the cavern. "But what does that have to do with our battle of wits?"
"You'll see soon enough!", Lubbock replied. He then proceeded to do what he claimed he wanted to do; he grabbed the two chairs nearby as well as the chess table that had been between them. Like Run, he kept his eyes on his adversary the entire time, making certain that he wouldn't use this opportunity to attack him while his guard was down.
Next, Lubbock walked back across the narrow walkway with the three pieces of furniture in tow. Upon getting to the middle, he placed the chess table in the exact center and set the two chairs on both sides of it. He then did something even more curious; he shot out two pairs of wires from cross-tail, one pair from each glove. Both pairs went under and over the walkway; they were each wrapped under a chair.
The Night Raid assassin then proceeded to sit at the chair facing Run. "Have a seat!"
To which the Jaegar responded, cautiously hovering in the other man's direction. "You aren't going to try and ensnare me with your wires once I get up close again, are you?"
"We both know that wouldn't work, thanks to your trump card. Just as we both know I'd be prepared if you tried using your feathers again."
"I suppose there's no disputing that", Run said, before taking a seat at the table.
"Before we start this game, there is one rule: Neither of us may use our imperial arms."
"A fine rule were there assurance of your intent to maintain it."
"Not too worry. We'll do this the old fashioned way. Both of us will set our imperial arm down on the table at the exact same time, nice and slow. If either of us tries to double cross the other, we can always pick them back up quick-draw style and kill each other. But I'm sure you're already aware of the problem with betting everything on a double cross."
"Naturally. There's no guarantee as to who will prevail between the two of us. My reflexes aren't noticeably different from yours. In such a scenario, it could go either way, defeating the whole purpose of deciding things in this manner. If either of us were content with mere chance, we would've stuck to a more conventional battle with our imperial arms."
"And neither of us would have ever agreed to sit at this table, but here we are. So then, are you ready?"
With a nod of his head, the two wings on Run's back suddenly vanished without a trace, as did the two metal disc that had been hovering around his shoulders. Two metallic rings then appeared on the Jaegar's index fingers, presumably his imperial arm in its most dormant state. Lubbock took note of this, preparing to remove his imperial arm as well, the two gloves on his hands that made up 'Cross-tail.'
At precisely the exact same time, they both removed their imperial arms and Run set his two rings on his side of the table. Lubbock had set his gloves down as well, though in a much different position. They were both near the center of the chess table, the right hand glove somewhat closer to himself and the left hand glove somewhat closer to Run. What's more, even though he had removed the gloves from his hand, the wires he had wrapped beneath the walkway were still protruding out from the gloves.
Run chuckled at the sight of this, as if having suddenly deduced what kind of game he'd be playing. "Ah, so that's what you're up to?"
"Earlier, you saw me shoot some wires under these chairs. Four wires in fact; two for each glove. Two of them are wrapped around the floor under your chair and two of them are wrapped around the floor under mine. As you saw with those pillars back there, cross-tail's wires are sharp enough to where all it takes is one quick tug to cut through just about anything. Just imagine what will happen if you tug either of these gloves. The floor directly beneath us will split apart and one of us will fall in that bottomless pit below us. In other words, which glove corresponds with which chair? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide and we both find out who is sitting comfortably in their chair and who is falling to their death."
[. . . . The Gap Between You and Him. . . .]
Oblivious to Akame's current predicament, Leone had hurriedly entered the bastion she had been running towards, bursting through the door. She promptly turned her attention to inspecting the room she had just entered, noticing that it was a fully stocked extravagant library with tall and wide bookcases covering the walls. Though much like Lubbock's endeavor downstairs, she saw no sign of the emperor.
She walked further into the room, attempting to scrutinize it closer, if for no other purpose than to see if there were any clues to the emperor's whereabouts. Her search was promptly interrupted, however, by the sound of the bastion door behind her shutting in a loud and forceful manner. Her eyes widened, not having expected anyone to sneak up on her. She turned around, only to see the one remaining Jaegar yet to be engaged thus far: Wave.
"This is the end of the line for . . ." The Grand Chariot wielder paused mid-sentence, his eyes immediately wandering from Leone's head to her chest. "What is wrong with you?! Why are you running around like that?!"
"Like what?", Leone asked, literally having no idea what he was referring to or why he was suddenly and partially covering his eyes with one of his hands while blushing.
"Your chest . . . cover your chest!"
The feral assassin looked down at her chest, only to realize that her trademark white scarf and her black tube top were missing. "What the hell?!", she shrieked. "Why am I topless all of the sudden?!"
"Why the hell should I know?!", Wave retorted. "Just cover up!"
"With what, jackass?! In case you haven't noticed, this isn't exactly a laundry room here!"
To Leone's surprise, like a true gentleman, Wave did not hesitate to remove his blue leather jacket and hand it to what he perceived to be a lady in need. "Here. Put it on quick and make sure you button it all the way up!"
"Wow!", Leone chimed, grinning from ear to ear. "Considering that I might end up killing you, you sure about this?"
"Just put it on!", he sighed.
The feral assassin wasted no time taking the Jaegar up on his offer. She put the jacket on and buttoned it up to the best of her ability. Granted, her DD cup bust size forced her to leave some noteworthy cleavage nonetheless. "You know the difference between you and me? I make this look good."
"Do you always kid around with someone who might kill you?"
Of course the irony inherent within this question wasn't lost upon Leone. "That depends. Do you always stop to help someone who might kill you?"
Wave quickly jammed his sword into the floor, suddenly being donned in his Grand Chariot armor. "I do what my heart guides me to do."
"That so? Then tell me: Does your heart guide you to serve someone as evil as the Prime Minister?"
"Absolutely not! As a matter of fact, let's just say that if all goes according to plan, I won't be serving him for long."
"Sweet sassy molassy!", Leone exclaimed, Wave being perhaps the last person she'd ever hear such words from. "I don't believe it. Does this mean you've finally come along to our way of thinking?"
"Of course not!"
"But you plan on assassinating the Prime Minister regardless, so what are you doing mixing it up with me for? Oh wait, don't tell me. I get your plan. It's gonna start off as a 'fight', but as we're wrestling on the ground, you're going to pin both of my arms to the floor, gaze deeply into my eyes, take off your armor and then-"
"What the?! Where do you come up with this stuff?!"
She shrugged her shoulders, as if recalling a childhood memory. "When you're poor and growing up in the slums, sometimes shitty shoujo novels are all you've got to keep yourself entertained."
"Regardless, I'm not some cold blooded thug like you", Wave responded, despite knowing full well who it was that ended the life of Seryu Ubiquitous in cold blood. A memory that flared up as he said this, but one he just as quickly suppressed. "Run has already come up with a plan to deal with the Prime Minister once and for all that doesn't involve assassinations and is perfectly within the system. And as soon we've dealt with you guys, he intends to start implementing it."
Leone was taken aback for a moment. His words; for one reason or another, they resonated with her, regardless of whether she agreed with them. It was as if the person standing before her was in fact the naïve young assassin she held in such high esteem. But she knew that not to be the case. "Heh. The two of you really aren't all that different when you really think about."
"Hmm?"
"You're here to stop me, right?"
"That's right!", Wave shouted before raising his fist, bending his knees and assuming stance any fighter worth their salt would recognize as being out from the pages of muay thai. "I'll make sure none of you lay a finger on the emperor today!"
Leone practically threw herself at the Jaegar with such intensity, her composure radically changing without a moment's notice; her left fist guarding her face and right fist being hurled directly at his head. "Then you better bring it!"
Wave blocked the incoming straight right punch with his left arm, widening his eyes beneath his helmet as he felt the sheer impact. "Her punches weren't this strong last time. Was she holding back?"
She instantly threw out a left hook. Not literally instant of course, but it may as well have been, given how quickly it connected to the right side of Wave's armored head. Armor, which despite being touted as invulnerable, still didn't completely protect him from the pain and dizziness just then.
"I've been fighting him all week, you know!", Leone yelled before following up with more punches to the head, all of which were cleanly landing. Wave was wobbling on his feet from all of this punishment. Sensing the feral assassin charging in for another attack, he desperately threw a haymaker with his right hand, hurling his fist out in a heavily telegraphed fashion.
"Not just me, but Akame, Lubbock and even the boss lady as well!" She avoided his haymaker while simultaneously nailing him in the face with a clean counter-punch with her left. This latest blow sent Wave stumbling back into a bookcase, dozens of books falling on his head as this happened.
"At first, it was to help him train. To help him get ready for this mission", she said, intensely walking towards her opponent. The Jaegar was barely standing, still reeling from that last attack.
"But wouldn't you know it? The punk didn't need any training. Not from us anyway. And as we kept fighting him, it became less about helping him get prepared and more about seeing what he's got. And let me tell you, the way he is now, even the four of us going at him at the same time, we still couldn't beat him. Not once. Then there's his eyes. Those damn eyes of his watching your every move. They look so calm whenever he is fighting. But don't let that fool you like it did us."
"Where is all of this coming from?", Wave thought, feeling much like a deer caught at the headlights. Not just at how proficiently she was besting him in close quarters combat, but the person he was describing. Surely she wasn't referring to the person he thought she was.
"My point? If you can't handle me, you sure as hell can't handle him! Don't even think about telling me what you're going to keep all of us from doing if you don't have what it takes to back it up!"
[. . . . Enter the Demented Psychopath . . . .]
Unlike her four subordinates, Najenda was the only member of Night Raid that wasn't currently locked in heated battle in one form or another. She was sneaking around the palace hallways, making certain to avoid detection from the guards. A task that didn't appear to be as difficult as one would expect given the lack of guards in key areas of the palace. All thanks to the Prime Minister's orders.
But avoiding detection was not the Night Raid commander's only concern. She wasn't just sneaking; she was actively tailing something or rather someone. Her pursuit led her outside the large double doors that led to the imperial throne room. There, she quickly hid behind a nearby indoor water fountain.
She peaked her head out ever so slightly, only to notice that the throne room doors had opened, almost as if a troublesome apparition were responsible. A lone individual then proceeded to walk through the doors with impunity. That individual being the leader of the Path of Peace as well as the leader of the Revolutionary army: Her father.
Najenda took another look around the immediate area, making certain that no guards were nearby to see her. She then dashed right into the throne room as quickly as she could. As soon as she got inside, she saw no sign of her father nor anyone else for that matter. That was until she laid her eyes on the emperor's throne.
There, before her very eyes, was not the emperor or even Prime Minister Honest, but the despicable and sadistic villain, Syura. "Bravo! Bravo!", he said with mock praise, clapping his hands while sporting a sinister grin. "You finally made it!"
If the Night Raid commander were surprised or unsettled by this encounter, her facial expressions certainly didn't show it. Instead, she maintained her usual cool and collected demeanor. "You must be the Prime Minister's brat. I've heard a lot about you."
Syura pointed to an object that was attached to his forehead; he was once again in possession of Zank the Executioner's imperial arm, Spectator. "As have I, if reading someone's mind constitutes 'hearing' anyway!"
"I see", Najenda replied. "And that thing I was following was not my father, but an illusion created by one of Spectator's abilities. I believe it's called Illusion Sight, no?"
He nodded his head before licking his lips. "And I just so happen to be using another one of Spectator's abilities right now. Care to guess which one?"
"I'd be more interested in discussing what you sought to gain in luring me here than Spectator's ability to see through clothing."
"Had I left you alone with that little punk with green hair, it might have interfered with my plans. Besides . . ."
One of Syura's portals suddenly manifested itself right in front of the throne. He got up and stepped through it, instantly vanishing into thin air. Najenda reacted, swiftly looking around the room, not having any inclination as to where he went. No more than a second later, she heard the throne room doors behind her close, prompting her to turn around.
Syura was suddenly leaning up against the now closed doors, still maintaining his sinister grin and licking his lips. "I haven't gotten off since this morning. And even then, it was just another one of my father's maids. It's so dull when my playthings just lie there in fear. Believe it or not, I prefer a struggle. Especially when it's from a woman reeking with power and authority. Take General Esdeath for example. Boy would I love to knock her off her high horse once and for all. But she's obviously off limits . . . for now anyway. But you . . . you I can handle just fine."
"Teleportation is not one of the abilities granted by Spectator. How are you able to do that?"
The Prime Minister's son removed a small locket like item with circular purple glass in the center, only to boldly display it before the Night Raid commander's eyes. "With my imperial arm, Shambala! "
"Impossible!", Najenda exclaimed. "That would mean you were-"
Syura held out his right hand, marveling at the single brown silk glove he was wearing. "Using two imperial arms? You're absolutely right, but it's far from impossible, thanks to my Limit Breaker here! As long as I'm wearing it, the usual rules of having an imperial arm don't apply to me!"
"How many imperial arms do you have with you?"
"It's no use trying to stall for time when I can read your mind", he said with another wink and a chuckle. "But don't worry, I've only brought Spectator and Shambala to deal with you. I had thought about bringing Extase as well, if for no other reason than to remind you of your failure to protect those you care about, but I'd hate to cut you ribbons before I've had my fill."
"You didn't think of bringing Gaea Foundation? That was also an imperial arm within one of my subordinate's possession."
"Brilliant deduction!", Syura said, clapping his hands with more mock praise. "You're even smarter than stories make you out to be. Yes, your thoughts are correct. I killed Chelsea."
Despite hearing this, Najenda's demeanor didn't change in the slightest. She still appeared cool and collected. "Is that so?"
But thanks to the powers of Spectator, Syura knew better, sporting a grin of satisfaction as he continued to peer into the assassin-leader's mind. "Oooh, what a scary thought. Am I supposed to be shaking in my boots right about now?"
"Why don't we let the next five minutes answer that?", she retorted before suddenly flinging her left fist towards the sadistic man's face.
"Too slow, Najenda!" Syura easily bobbed his head out of the way, still smirking with the utmost confidence as he did. In turn, the Night Raid commander used the momentum of her missed punch to spin to the right and launch a right leg spin kick. But Syura once again dodged her attack, backstepping out of the range of her heel and catching her flying ankle with his left hand. He quickly proceeded to latch his other hand onto the assassin's ankle, spin her entire body around in several 360 arcs before letting go and tossing her upwards into the air.
In the small fraction of time Najenda was being hurled upwards, she glanced down towards where her sadistic adversary had been standing, only to realize that he had vanished. It was upon having this realization that she heard the words "Behind you!" being spouted behind her. By the time she turned her head to look in that direction, she felt two clasped together hands smash into her back and send her flying down towards the floor.
"This might hurt a little", Syura said, having just teleported to the spot Najenda was about to fall to. Before she could react, he jumped into the air and broke her fall with a knee to her stomach.
This latest move sent the assassin-leader tumbling to the ground, doubling over in pain. A sight which Syura found most amusing, no doubt filling him with wicked pleasure. "A pity. I only meant to rupture two ribs there, but Spectator is telling me I ruptured six."
"Demented psychopath", Najenda muttered, painstakingly regaining her footing.
To which Syura answered, smugly acting as if the fight had already been settled. "All those thoughts pouring in that brain of yours! You're like a machine! Now I see how you became a general. And how you've been such a thorn in my father's side with Night Raid. You're already thought of 23 different possible weaknesses Shambala possesses. You're trying desperately to hone in on the right one. But it won't do you any good. As long as your mind is an open book to me, I can just gently read along."
"You think . . . so!" The Night Raid assassin sprang towards her opponent with a sudden flying jump kick.
Syura casually stepped out of the way while yawning in the most obnoxious manner possible. "I don't think; I know. I also know about that imperial arm you're hiding and that you had planned on stalling me until your little green haired munchkin arrived to help you. Like hell I'll let that happen. I can go kill him whenever it suits me, so go ahead and use it here and now. I'd like to see it in action before I add it to my collection."
Najenda glared upon her opponent, the look in her eye not one that acknowledged the adversity of the situation she was in. "Syura, I wonder how well you think you'd fair if you weren't reading each and every one of my thoughts. Pretty cautious way to fight a woman, especially when she's missing an eye and an arm. From what I hear, even Spectator's original owner, Zanku, wasn't that paranoid. Or maybe it's not paranoia I'm detecting. Maybe it's fear."
"Provoking me is useless. I can read your mind, so I know you're just trying to distract me from reading your thoughts in the hopes that I'll make a mistake you can exploit. Use your imperial arm already so I can break your spirit completely."
"One of our spirits is going to be broken before this day ends, but it won't be mine." She carefully began unscrewing the cylinder that was attached to her prosthetic arm, spinning it off like a cap on a bottle of wine. Upon removing the 'cap', she tossed it to the floor, revealing the imperial arm Syura had used Spectator to learn about. It was the same imperial arm Akame had absconded from Sten of the four Rakshasa demons; the same hook shaped imperial arm that Tatsumi had cleaved away from that pirate he and Esdeath had engaged: Thunder God's Rage: Adramelech. Small sparks of electricity were already dancing across it.
[. . . . Devilish Serendipity . . . .]
If one word could be used to describe Esdeath's swordsmanship, it would be the word 'relentless.' As the current phase of her duel with Tatsumi progressed, he techniques more than lived up to this word. She bombarded the young man with a full-fledged blitz of vicious sword strikes, attacking him from every angle one could muster with a sword; vertical swings, horizontal swipes, diagonal slashes, lightning fast thrusts, upward angles, downward angles, left angles, right angles.
True to her reputation, the Ice Queen was a genius when it came to swordplay. When serious, her style was unique in that it allowed the opponent no time to adjust to the tempo. It was a heavily aggressive style with attacks that seemed random and unpredictable; a style no doubt designed to keep the opponent on the defensive, assuming they were unlike most of the Ice Queen's prey and were actually able to last longer than a few seconds. Combined with the impressive range and versatility her long rapier offered her and this was truly a monstrous offense. Little wonder that this was her fighting style, given how well it complimented her personality; elegance that reflected her need to dominate and be in control.
And so she was. Tatsumi was fully on the defensive, barely blocking Esdeath's techniques with his blade. Of course, he wasn't just standing across from her like before. He was also employing a great deal of acrobatics and unconventional tactics; leaping across the courtyard furniture, hurling himself over statues of the Prime Minister, skirting around the trees in the area as if to use them as a shield.
Esdeath aggressively pursued him at every step, however, determined to end his life. As a result, the more the battle had progressed, the more it appeared to simulate a game of cat and mouse. Esdeath the predatorial feline and Tatsumi the skittish rodent. But to the Ice Queen's bemusement, he wasn't skittish. She half-expected someone using his tactics to be craven, but that wasn't the case here. Her eyes were trained on him throughout their entire game of tag, fully cognizant of the look in his eyes. They were glowing, but they were still . . . calm.
Indeed, despite the situation he was in, Tatsumi looked as if he were taking a walk in the park on a warm Sunday afternoon. Or to be more precise, he looked as if he were sitting at a pond with his fishing pole, patiently waiting for the string on his pole to tug before reeling in in the unsuspecting fish.
The general began to wonder. Was this really Tatsumi's limit? Or was she in fact an unsuspecting fish waiting to be caught? "Is this all you can do, Tatsumi?", she taunted amidst their exchange, hoping to provoke a reaction out of him, anything to get a sense of whatever trick he might have had up his sleeve. "Run around like a frightened puppy with its tail tucked between its legs? Why don't you quit running around like a dog and face me standing like a man?"
"Okay", he said before suddenly ceasing his evasive acrobatics, now standing still in the middle of the courtyard.
Esdeath came to a sudden pause as well, legitimately surprised at her adversary's actions. Even more curious was Tatsumi's next move; he slipped into an old fashioned longsword stance; the tip of his blade was pointed towards his opponent's chest and he horizontally held the hilt besides his head using both of his hands. A stance any seasoned swordsman would recognize as the Ochs position.
The Ice Queen interpreted this gesture as an open invitation to attack. She didn't hesitate to again slip into the stance she had assumed at the beginning of this stage of the duel. Without a moment's notice, she pounced towards the assassin. Her blade was in a deceptively neutral position as she lunged; it was held in such a way that she could transition into any kind of sword strike at any moment; such was the vicious and unpredictable nature of Esdeath's swordsmanship; a level of skill far beyond what she had displayed when she fought Najenda.
She stopped her lunge mid-movement, converting it into an almost invisible upwards diagonal slash. Tatsumi responded by stepping one foot back and blocking with the tip end of his sword. The Ice Queen continued with a thrust, extending her blade fully out towards her opponent's head. But the assassin yet again stepped one foot backwards, blocking this subsequent attack with the tip end of his sword while staying safely outside the range of her weapon.
"More defense?", she thought. "Is that all? How disappointing. If this is all you can muster, you should have continued running. This fight ends here and now and so does your life."
In that instant, Esdeath continued her assault with a short but downward diagonal slash. Tatsumi blocked in that exact same fashion as he had against the preceding two attacks. But just as he blocked, the Ice Queen converted the attack into another thrust, stepping forward as her blade rubbed alongside his and utterly negating the distance Tatsumi created by taking another step back. The tip of her rapier flew right at the young man's face, inches from piercing his eyes and subsequently his skull.
But those eyes remained calm even still. Like the fisherman finally feeling a tug on his fishing rod after patiently waiting at the edge of the row boat all day, he tugged. Not a pole, but the hilt of his sword; her jerked it up in the air parallel to Esdeath's long rapier, flinging the weapon right out of her hand. The blade twirled around a number of times before falling and sticking into the ground a couple of yards away. Even the force of Tatsumi's swing was something to behold; it gusted Esdeath's hat clean off in the process.
She jumped back, once more creating distance between herself and her opponent. The Ice Queen, having just registered in her mind what had just occurred, was beside herself. To think someone could disarm her. HER. The empire's strongest general. HER. The greatest warrior the country had ever seen. HER. The last survivor of the Partas clan. It was unreal.
Tatsumi relaxed his guard, still firmly gripping the hilt of his sword out of caution, but no longer in the Ochs stance. Instead, he lowered the blade yet again parallel to his right leg. "All of your techniques are focused on preventing your opponent from fighting back, right? By making your attacks hard to anticipate, your opponent has no choice but to stay on the defensive, giving you the chance to whittle them down and finish them off. It's effective, but far from unbeatable if your opponent can anticipate your attacks. Yours can be predicted by watching the way you tug your wrist before every attack. It's slight, but just enough to anticipate what you're about to do and how to counter."
Esdeath widened her eyes at the assassin's explanation. The Tatsumi she knew certain had ample untapped talent, but this was something else entirely; everything he said was absolutely correct, but no one she encountered in the past, not even Budo, had ever figured it out. She had grown accustomed to being able to overwhelm her opponents with the utmost ease, but Tatsumi had just proven himself to be of a completely different caliber. A realization that caused her to look down towards the ground she stood on, burying her face in the palm of her hand.
A sight Tatsumi found curious, given what he knew of her pride. How strong it was. Not to mention her ego. He silently wondered to himself whether he had crushed it just now, but what happened next put such thoughts to rest.
She gradually looked back up towards the Incursio wielder, not with a look of shame or despair, but . . . excitement. Maniacal glee in fact. Gone was the side of her that wanted to give the man she loved a quick and painless death. That side disappeared and Esdeath the battle maniac had fully resurfaced. Practically oozing with battle lust, she began to laugh in a maniacal fashion. "After all these years tirelessly searching these boring countries for a worthy adversary, I had just about given up hope. I thought I was cursed when even self-proclaimed champions like Numa Seika couldn't last more than ten seconds against me, yet here you stand before me as not just another plaything to temporarily ease my boredom . . but as an equal. Is this luck?! Is this fate?! Is this devilish serendipity?!"
Tatsumi was undaunted by the Ice Queen's ostentatious display. His consistently calm demeanor aside, he had long been aware of this aspect of her personality. If anything, the only surprise in his mind was that it hadn't surfaced sooner. "An equal you say. Are you saying no one has ever been able to hold their own against you until now?"
"Besides my father, I'm afraid not", the Ice Queen remarked, her maniacal laughter having died down to that of a soft chuckle. "Since him, any difficulties I've faced in battle were ones I myself created simply for the purpose of keeping things interesting. I was actually trying to kill you just now, but you still managed to find a way around my attacks. How interesting."
"I take it you're no longer going to hold anything back", Tatsumi replied, noting that Esdeath had yet to make use of her imperial arm thus far in their duel.
She clasped her hands together in an almost prayer-like fashion, causing numerous rows of razor sharp icicles to manifest out of the thin air around her. "Not a chance my beloved. That would be an insult of astronomical proportions. From this point forward, I shall use everything I have to crush you. You are worthy of no less. So show me more, Tatsumi. Show me more of your newfound strength."
Tatsumi made an immediate mental note of all the times he had seen this technique in the past. First when they were alone together on that uninhabited island and she had instantly skewered a giant danger beast much like the one Dr. Stylish had turned himself into. Second when the two were fighting against pirates on that merchant's ship; she skewered them all with practically nothing more than a gesture. This time, was different however. The number of icicles she had summoned was much greater; there were at least one hundred.
The Ice Queen uttered one word. "Weissschnabel." Each and every icicle that was summoned suddenly flew in Tatsumi's direction. But with no intent of becoming a human pincushion, he responded with a full flurry of swipes from his sword, his sword-arm and his blade giving off the appearance of a constant blur. Every projectile of ice that was intercepted by this blur was either bisected or batted away.
"Grauhorn", Esdeath said, creating a long and large horn of ice from thin air.
Still dealing with the razor sharp icicles, Tatsumi noticed this next attack flying straight at him and that the ice itself was as wide and as tall as his entire body. Before the horn could touch him, he did a backflip into the air, avoiding the attack entirely.
But at that very moment, Esdeath once again said "Grauhorn!" A horn of ice just like the last one created instantaneously, launching itself right towards the assassin upon its creation. Tatsumi was still in mid-air as this occurred and thus had no means of avoiding the ice. Instead, he attacked it head on, holding the hilt of his blade with both hands and swinging with a straight downward vertical slash. Swish. He cut it in two; he split it right down the middle.
"Grauhorn!", the Ice Queen blurted out once more, almost no time having passed. Another horn of ice appeared, this one directly above Tatsumi's head.
The Incursio wielder glanced his eyes slightly upwards in that short instant. The ice was so close to impaling him that there was no time to slice it half as he had the previous projectile. He knew defense was his only option and responded by immediately using both of his hands to hold the broad side of his sword out above his head, blocking the horn at its pointed tip.
Tatsumi last second efforts prevented him being impaled, but the force of the attack was still great enough to forcefully send him hurling back down to the ground. He landed on his back, still blocking the ice horn as he touched the ground.
"Weissschnabel." The Ice Queen mercilessly pressed on the attack, fully intent on taking advantage of the vulnerable position Tatsumi was in. More razor sharp icicles came flying at him, leaving him little choice but to swiftly roll over and prop up the ice horn he had blocked and crouch behind it, effectively shielding himself from being skewered.
Esdeath watched this with glee, delighted to see the extent of her foe's athleticism as well as the success he was showing in dealing with techniques she usually only reserved for foes whom she wished to immediately dispose of. But she wanted to see more; much more. "Bühnensteuerung", she said, crouching down and placing her right hand firmly against the ground.
Tatsumi peaked his head from behind the horn of ice he had shielded himself behind, only to notice that ice was expanding all across the courtyard at a rapid pace. Seeing that the expanding ice was about to reach him, he jumped out of the way and onto an area that had already been covered.
It didn't take long, however, for the Ice Queen's latest technique to take effect. Within mere moments, everything within the entire courtyard was encased in thick solid sheets of ice; the ground, the statues, the trees, the grass, the walkways, the water fountains, the statues and even the walls.
The Incursio wielder looked around the newly changed environment with caution, wondering what purpose Esdeath's latest technique served. Surely there was one. There was no sign that she was just showing off and she had already made it clear that she would be going all out for the remainder of the battle. So then what was she up to?
A moment passed and his thoughts were interrupted by the slight sound of ice cracking beneath where he was standing; similar to how one walking on a frozen lake might hear cracks while walking across relatively thinner areas of ice. Another Grauhorn instantly flew out the ground, this one being a much darker shade of blue than the others. Tatsumi once again narrowly averted impalement, though not unscathed, if the fresh drops of blood were of any indication. It grazed the assassin's ankle.
"Grauhorn Grade 2", Esdeath said, before waving her left index finger in a peculiar motion. And just like that, a new Grauhorn spawned from the tip of the one that had just sprang out of the ground, once again on the verge of impaling its target. Tatsumi was more prepared for this one, however. He clenched Incursio's hilt with both of his hands, intent upon slicing through this ice horn just as he had a previous one. And with great speed and dexterity, he slashed right into it before it could stab him.
But something was wrong. Even though he connected, the Grauhorn didn't split in half. If anything, Tatsumi's swing had the same effect a small child would have in hitting a brick wall without a butter knife. Absolutely useless. Instead, the dormant Incursio ended up getting knocked right out of his hands; the short sword had slid across the ice-laden ground a couple of yards away.
"An eye for an eye, Tatsumi", Esdeath remarked, recalling how he had knocked her weapon out of her hands earlier.
Tatsumi looked towards his discarded weapon seemingly out of his reach. He stretched his right hand out towards it. As if there were some magnetic attraction between his hand and the weapons hilt, it flew right into his grasp on its own accord.
The Ice Queen watched this curious sight with gleaming fascination. "Oh ho, another new ability I take it. First the red glowing eyes, now this. And here I thought Incursio was just some gauche piece of armor for people with no sense of taste or imagination."
"Not even close", Tatsumi replied, recalling what he had learned during the Perfect Sync ritual. "Incursio is all about imagination." With his right hand alone, he jabbed the short sword into the ground before him and steadfastly held onto its hilt. He took on a pose reminiscent of the very first time he had ever activated his imperial arm. It was a scene much like the scene on that cruise ship he fought the Three beasts on all those months ago. In a flash, the Night Raid assassin was surrounded by a thick and visible red aura.
None of this ruffled Esdeath however. She remained enthusiastic. "His aura. It feels as if I'm standing in the presence of a full grown dragon. That's it, my love. Show me your true power."
Incursio took on a metamorphosis unlike any it had ever shown. No new stylish set of armor or anything. Rather, the focus seemed entirely on the weapon. The short sword took on a different form and appearance. It became a claymore much like Ambassador Hartman's, only the actual blade was crimson red in color. Needless to say, the overall weapon was over twice as long as it had been in its short sword state. As soon as the weapon took form, Tatsumi hefted it up and slung it over his right shoulder while keeping his right hand clenched on the hilt.
"A new sword, huh? Looks a little too big for someone of your stature, Tatsumi."
To which the assassin smiled. "Looks can be deceiving."
"Indeed they CAN!", Esdeath retorted, simultaneously conjuring another dark blue Grauhorn out of the ground a few feet behind her adversary. It instantly sprang out of the ground, diagonally on the trajectory to impaling him in the back.
Tatsumi immediately spun around, firmly having latched both of his hands onto the claymore's hilt and swinging down towards the incoming horn of ice. He yet again connected before he could be hit. But strangely enough, his blade couldn't even muster a scratch. Instead, the force of the Grauhorn knocked his entire body back a couple of feet. Fortunately, he managed to maintain his footing as well as keep his sword from getting knocked out of his hands this time.
"How disappointing", the Ice Queen chimed. "After all that and you still can't even scrape my Grade 2 Ice. Perhaps calling you my equal was premature What are you going to do-"
She paused mid-sentence, noticing some strange behavior from her adversary. Not only was he paying her no mind, but for one reason or another, he continued to hit the most recent Grauhorn with his blade, striking it with a series of speedy slashes. He had to have struck the ice at least 30 times, but still no scratches.
The Ice Queen was besides herself, unable to see what rhyme or reason Tatsumi could have in doing this. She had figured he would try and come after her directly upon realizing that her ice was too durable to be cut, but this was truly quite the quandary. What was he thinking? Had he gone mad? Was he upset that his sword was no more useful than it had been in its previous form? She observed him closely, but saw no sign of either of these things. The assassin was every bit as calm as he was at the start of the battle.
Part of her was curious to see what her love was up to. For a moment, she had considered standing idly by and letting him achieve whatever goal he was attempting to achieve. But those thoughts were quickly abandoned as her lusts for battle took command of her senses once more. "Here I come, Tatsumi!"
"Eisgefängnis Grade 2", she said while swiftly raising her left hand. A dark blue ice dome, the size of a polar igloo, instantly erected itself around Night Raid assassin, the ice moving much faster than any of the ice in Esdeath's previous attacks. Short of an instant, he escaped being sealed inside, vaulting himself into the air out of harm's way before it was too late.
"Weissschnabel Grade 2." Despite this attack command, however, Tatsumi saw no sign of the attack. On every prior use, the deadly icicles appeared around Esdeath upon being summoned; not this time however. Based on gut instinct alone, he turned his head, spotting a series of dark blue razor sharp icicles, all flying towards his backside.
He turned around, still in mid-air, swatting away the icicles to the best of his ability. Despite his efforts, however, he couldn't come out of this exchange unscathed. There were now multiple cuts on his legs and arms. Nothing deep or overtly debilitating, but the blood was noticeably trinkling.
The moment Tatsumi landed on the ground, he saw another dark blue Grauhorn spring out at him. He maneuvered himself out of the way, making sure to slash at the ice projectile as he dodged. Still no scratch. A litany of additional dark blue Grauhorns came springing at him, one by one, the assassin repeated himself each time: Dodge and hit.
This dodge and hit routine continued until the 9th Grauhorn came flying at him. Being well used to the timing at this point, he readily avoided getting skewered by it while simultaneously landing another hit. But . . . there was something different this time. He felt a cold feeling in his boots. The assassin looked down, only to notice that his boots were covered in dark blue ice. He tried to move, but it felt as if his feet were cemented to the ground.
Esdeath was sporting another sadistic smile. "Oops. Did I forget to announce my attack? Kaninchenfalle Grade 2."
Not being blind to the adversity of his situation, Tatsumi promptly began slashing at the ice covering his boots. Despite his efforts, still no dents or scratches.
The Ice Queen raised her right hand into the air and snapped her fingers, "It's been fun, Tatsumi, but this is as far you go. Hagelsprung Grade Two!" A giant pillar of dark blue ice, looking similar to a piece of gigantic hail, appeared above the courtyard.
Tatsumi looked up towards the hulking mass of ice, noting that it was the same attack Esdeath had used to defeat that giant humanoid danger beast they had faced on that uninhabited island weeks ago. People outside the palace, soldiers and civilians alike, could see this massive piece of ice and were confounded by its sudden appearance.
Without notice, the 'Hagelsprung' plummeted down towards the Incursio wielder, the speed being so great as to leave a sonic boom in its trail. It instantly smashed into the ground loud enough to alert everyone in the palace. Esdeath herself stood by, not fazed by the sudden flux of air pressure breezing by as a result of her own attack. There was, however, multiple beads of sweat running down her forehead. Clearly, these techniques were taking their toll on her. But that didn't matter. She had won the battle . . . or so she had thought.
The Hagelsprung that was resting in the spot Tatsumi had been standing in suddenly split in half, vertically right down the middle. Bisected, the two pieces fell side to side and Tatsumi could be seen standing in the center with his claymore held out. Only the blade looked different now; it was covered in a focused and concentrated orange flame, much like the flames on a welder's oxygen acetylene cutting torch.
Baring witness to this, Esdeath looked genuinely amazed by the young assassin's feat. Perhaps there was more to Incursio than she initially suspected.
A/N: Whoa. Seems Tatsumi has really leveled up big time, but is it enough to beat the strongest general in the empire? You'll have to stay tuned to find out! More explanation on their abilities will be given in due time, so be patient!
As to the battle of wits scenario between Run and Lubbock, I wonder if anyone gets the obscure reference. Also, I wouldn't recommend pointing out any flaws in the setup. Trust me, they're intentional and all part of the game between the two.
Once again, keep in mind the rules I'm submitting myself to, as per my explanation in the first chapter. Run's imperial arm's "dormant state" is my own personal addition. So is Adramalech being a prosthetic hook, but you already knew that!
Anyways, two more chapters to go! Possibly three if the epilogue ends up being long enough to warrant its own chapter (and knowing me, it'll probably will) Love it? Hate it? Meh? Lemme know what you think! As always, I appreciate your thoughts, both constructive and positive! Trolling too, provided you're at least clever about it! ;) As always, thanks for reading!