Melville Drakemoth bristled with irritation. He had not expected his prey to be so cunning and elusive--seldom few of his victims ever lasted beyond his second attempt to destroy them--but the combined forces of Kenshin Himura and Samurai Jack were, he hated to admit, too much for him. All his years of education, learning, and study, most of it focused on the matter of assassination and execution, was all but wasted on the two samurai. They were like leprechauns, quick and tricky and nearly impossible to catch, and as the sun rose up on his angered brow, he realized that it would be very hard for him to continue on by himself. He felt like a coyote that failed to catch roadrunners.
Ironically, as light came into a world once covered by the darkness of night, a black cloud emerged from some distance away. Melville noticed it and lost his temper to curiosity: it was hard believing a dark cloud would come out of nowhere just like that. An even queerer sight revealed itself to him when the smoke took shape, the shape of a man, or at least something faintly resembling man. The figure that came from the dark smoke looked to be more devil than human, dressed in black leathery clothes with a charcoal tint to his skin. A death's mask of white was painted on his bare head, accentuating the eerie image. The being spoke, too.
"Fortune does not favor either one of us, Englishman."
"And who are you to say this to me?" wondered Drakemoth with a raised brow. The being cackled quietly, revealing teeth that seemed more suited inside the mouth of a shark.
"Fumus Adhvanit, 'The Vanishing Smoke', and an unexpected ally of yours. I've been observing your methods for awhile, Englishman, and I must say that I like your style--and what style it is, too! The lost art of sophisticated assassination flourishes in your bones; even I admit that the art is lost to me, who is savage and unrelenting. You are on the hunt for two men, are you not?"
"Yes," answered Melville in a snooty voice. "What do you know about it?"
"Enough," answered the man in black. "I have been sent to kill the Man Slayer; he has an accomplice with him who must also die. Do you know what I speak of?" Melville nodded his head.
"Yes. I faced these same two before. I've given many attempts, but it disgusts me that they've all failed. Narrowly at times, yes, but still they failed. …Why are you speaking with me now? Do you want to work with me?"
"It would seem logical to pool our resources," growled Fumus quietly. "You have a great brain for death, and know it quite intimately. You're as secretive as a ninja and methodical as a forensics expert. You lack in sheer power and speed, but that is something I would gladly help you with. It would be wise of us to fill in for each other's weaknesses."
"And what is your weakness?" wondered Melville. Fumus' smile became a scowl as he unfolded a part of his black jacket to reveal a long, deep, nasty scar over his chest. The wound still seemed to be festering, even so long after it had been dealt. Drakemoth cringed.
"The man in white did this to me. It is difficult to harm me with the weapons of mortals, but the sword he used was of a different caliber. A sacred tool, forged to battle against demons and wicked creatures--and who save my masters is more wicked than I? That is my weak point, Englishman, and since you do not succumb to such tools as well as I, it is there that I need your help." Melville couldn't help but smile as he recalculated the possible scenarios he could execute now that this man in black was willing to be his ally.
"Hmm… it's quite a thought, yes. But let's not rest on such laurels. I know of a man, a fellow who came with me to this country, who could not only help us but would be of invaluable help, as well. With him on our side, well… it would be overkill, I suppose, but certain methods must be used to catch and kill prey like this."
"And who is this person?" Melville's smile now became as cruel as he was.
"Have you ever heard of Rygar the Red?"
10: Slayers of Men -- Assassins Join Forces to Ambush the Battousai!
Not knowing where his secret companion was had been the least of Melville's worries. He was a good tracker--he had hunted down both Kenshin and Jack with great success--and Fumus could move at a speed that defied human physics. Also, Rygar was about as difficult to hide as the sun; he stood out and made himself noticeable even when he didn't want to. News had already spread of the infamous man's whereabouts, and since so many people were terrified of him, they scrambled and ran in order to achieve some better safety. All Drakemoth and Fumus had to do was go upstream instead.
They found their large, fiery-haired companion all by himself, in the pub of a newly-abandoned town. The entire place had literally been evacuated ever since some local recognized the brute, and now he was all by himself, which made finding him incredibly easy. That was Rygar's weak point, but for Melville and Fumus, it was a great help. They found him and cornered him in the pub, smiling wicked and selfish smiles as they did.
"Good evening, old chum," greeted Melville. "It's been awhile since I last saw you. You exude the same aura now as when you did when you first came to this country. It's really amazing how one man can clean out a whole town without ever really trying. Of course," he now said to Fumus, "back in earlier days, he could destroy towns such as these with the same speed. It's no wonder people fear him, as they doubtless fear you."
"Death and shadow are the darkest terrors of men's minds," said Fumus in a hollow voice. "You, Englishman, may have the deepest sense of terror within you, for nobody would suspect or even see you. It is in secrecy and quiet where the true fear of this bunch lies. And as for you," he grunted, giving Rygar's shoulder a nudge, "what have you done to help us? You haven't even laid a hand on the manslayer. I think you've been helping them."
Rygar said nothing and drained his mug.
"Well, you will help us now," purred Fumus wickedly. "Each of us bears strengths that make us powerful and feared. Each of us has weaknesses that can only be overcome by joining up together. If the three of us were to go out and face our foe--excuse me, our foes--then there would be no cause for us to fail. What do you say?"
A pause.
"I say you should leave me be," muttered the older man. "I don't want to get involved if I don't have to. But knowing you two, you will find some way for me to fight with you. I will end up having 'no choice in the matter', right?"
"That time has already come," said Melville quietly. "It is time you cast away your moralistic ideals and your gentleness towards these two. One of them is a killer, plain and simple; the other interferes in our plans and must be eliminated. You yourself are a sinner, my friend; there is no use trying to make yourself seem holy. I enjoy killing, yes, but I do not do it madly like this man here, and there is no use accusing a devil of murder. If you stay here you may as well drink hypocrisy instead of beer."
Rygar grunted, and was smart enough to know that he had been caught. There really was no use trying to stay out of this delicate conflict: people had been killed and justice, cold and hard and cruel justice, had to be laid out. Learning under his old Master had clarified his mind and gave him a path of virtue, but within this virtue were also responsibilities.
Was it truly right to kill a man because he himself had killed?
Was it right to execute him for killing in a war?
Why did he kill? Was the opposite side a group of sinners who deserved death?
Or was the man himself a sinner who deserved to die?
The only thing Rygar knew was that he, above all else, deserved the punishment.
He had no right to carry the same judgment on others.
"I have no right to carry the same judgment on others," he grumbled. "I'm sure if things were different, Himura would be the one after me, and you two may very well have teamed up with him. I can understand him and his situation, but he will never be able to understand me. I was a beast; he fought for a good reason, though I do not know if such bloodshed can really be called good."
"Now's not the time to be a pacifist," muttered Melville cruelly. "You're either for us or against us. It's time you decided once and for all. You came to this country for a reason, and it wasn't for sightseeing. It's time you perform your duties or leave, one or the other. Don't brood."
Rygar didn't. He stood up.
"Justice is not the only right in this world," he announced firmly as he towered over his companions. "Absolution is not the only means of cleansing one's soul. I am worthless outside of battle; perhaps one last, great, glorious fight is what I need to see the truth. Yes, you are right. I must decide, and though I hate to do it, I will carry my arms into the battle one more time, and see what I am made of. As with all wars, this one will be decided by who is right."
"I'm going to be sick," hissed Fumus. "I don't care about any of this nonsense. I just want to delight in my mission, and collect my fee, and yes, extort the animal desires of humans one more time. The devil has suggested temporary wealth and power to these pitiful creatures; they drove it forward, which resulted in hiring me to do their filthy work. I love it."
"We're wasting time speaking of morals and devils," snapped Melville bitterly. "We either go after those two slippery samurai or leave the country. I'm going; I suggest you two follow me and keep quiet." With that, he lifted his cane and marched out of the pub, with Fumus following quietly (not because he was asked, but because he wanted to), and Rygar after all of them. The three killers were silent for the rest of their journey.
----------
Like Jack and Kenshin had done before them, the three assassins traveled across the countryside, coming across towns, mountains, rivers, plains, forests, and wet marshes in their journey towards a great climax. Melville was the one who performed most of the hunting, while Fumus and Rygar kept themselves hidden from view. Extorting the good people of the land for information concerning the two samurai was a nasty trick, but Drakemoth could sink very low if he needed two.
The two warriors had moved south.
The trail picked up after that; Fumus scouted the areas they went through for more clues. It wasn't hard following the two warriors, especially across virgin grass or muddy fields. Towns and villages had housed the warriors before, and innocently directed the three killers (or one, since they only saw the harmless-looking Englishman) nearer and nearer to their ultimate destination. Like a man pulling on a rod to bring a fish in, the three killers drew ever closer to their target, and began to plan how best to ambush them.
"Hold it," said Melville suddenly with a raise of his hand. The other two men stopped as he raised his nose in the air and began to sniff. "…I smell pollen."
"Pollen?" Melville turned to face the other two, a devilish smile curling on his face as he came to a wonderfully wicked conclusion.
"Yes, pollen. And smoke from an oil-lit fire. Gentlemen, our quarry is close at hand. I can smell them all the way from here."
---------------
Jack and Kenshin smiled as they lay on the grassy floor, watching the last wisps of red and gray erase from the sky so that the blue could be produced. A massive blanket of clouds covered the sun, wrinkling the light and the darkness together likes waves reflecting glowing fires off of a midday sun. Shafts of light poked out here and there; gold and deep indigo blue were crumpled together in the blanket of fluff high above, and silvery clouds curled across and around, painting a picture that would never be reproduced again.
After a bit of thought, they agreed that the best way to draw their enemies into the area was to do nothing. Moving about and trying to hunt them down would do them no good anyway, for they could've easily gotten "lost". But lying out in the open, doing little movement if any, was a better way to find their foes, although the idea was risky. The two hardly relaxed, though, as they kept their eyes and ears open for any signs of their pursuers. In the long run, they were not disappointed.
The rustling of grass gave indication that the two men had visitors, and so they stood up to see who had come. They saw Melville Drakemoth coming up over a hill, staring at them hard with a cruel, twisted glower. Beside him was a nightmare, a man in black who was too hidden to be real. Behind them, strongest of all, was a tall man draped in green and brown, his fiery hair making him stand out. Jack and Kenshin had expected to be found out in the open, but never by all three of their opponents at once.
No words needed to be exchanged as the two parties closed the gap between them and met, somewhere in the fields and countries of Japan, a mere three years after a sea of blood washed the land clean. Melville produced a thrusting sword from his side, Fumus flicked out two long daggers with a twist of his hands, and Rygar slowly unsheathed his great iron broadsword. Kenshin and Jack responded by showing their reverse blade and sacred sword, and only the whistling wind gave any indication that there was a world apart from the five.
The inevitable battle had come. It was time for a showdown.