Chapter 7
Raphael stared Emmanuel coldly in the eye, hatred evident in every nerve. His vision was cloaked by an angry red cloak, as he readied himself in an attacking stance. "Well then, let us dance..." Raphael purposely drawled the last word, before lunging at Emmanuel, his rapier going narrowly wide of the assassin's windpipe. Emmanuel sucked in his breath sharply, before dealing a quick, lithe swipe at Raphael. The Frenchman swept his rapier in wide arcs, the sword slashing from everywhere to deliver scorching hits. He was fighting better than ever before. "For you, Amy..."he murmured to himself, before tearing through the air with another violent slash. Emmanuel rolled onto an ornately carved table to avoid a low kick from his assailant, before Raphael split the table cleanly, sawdust fogging the air for a moment. Raphael coughed, and the sneaky assassin in front of him took the advantage to land a punishing strike which Raphael barely parried.
Soul Edge seemed to twitch incessantly in his hand, sending streaks of power surging up his arm, the sheer power and strength sending his arm tingling. Emmanuel stopped, hesitant, almost transfixed by the blade in Raphael's hand. Raphael swept his sword low, his hair sweeping over his eyes for a second, before lifting his head. His eyes caught Emmanuel's. Emmanuel could not prevent a startled gasp, for Raphael's eyes were now pure scarlet, as if an intense conflagration burned steadily inside. His eyes blinked simultaneously with the eye on the sword, and Emmanuel could swear all three could see through him.
With an almost inhuman shout, Raphael surged forward in a wealth of utmost power. His sword was a twirling, deadly mass which swished through the air with accurate precision. Every strike landed on Emmanuel, not matter how he blocked or parried. Blood flew freely, splashing through the air as if it were rain.
At the end, Raphael was pointing Soul Edge at Emmanuel, his other hand cupping his face nonchalantly, as if it were a piece of cake. The assassin's cutlass lay on the floor, the sound of Emmanuel being disarmed still reverberating throughout the room.
"You're not even worth killing," Raphael spat, as Emmanuel stammered, "You wouldn't harm an unarmed man would you?"
"Even beasts are better than you! This from someone who killed an innocent child!" Raphael roared, the flecks of spit showering Emmanuel's already bloodstained face. Raphael brought a blood-drenched foot into Emmanuel's crotch, and the French assassin doubled over, howling in intense pain, before Raphael stabbed the tip of Soul Edge into Emmanuel windpipe. He pulled it out, twisting violently as he did so, to intensify the pain. Emmanuel screamed as blood squirted out from irregular intervals. He grasped his throat, struggling to breathe. Just as he was about to asphyxiate to death, Raphael swung a leg right into his cowering mass, blasting the piteous figure out of the glass window, where he hung suspended, before falling with glass pieces tearing up his body further. Raphael smiled icily as he knew Emmanuel was not dead until he hit the ground. A dull thud brought Raphael back to his senses. He looked down, and saw a pool of blood. Raphael heard footsteps from away, very, very faint. Without hesitating, he turned and picked up Amy, wiping the blood off her throat with his sleeve.
He had engraved the words on a stone with Soul Edge sharp enough to tear through the tough material.
Here lies Amy Sorel, beloved daughter of Raphael Sorel
God bless her and allow her to rest in peace.
It was a simple enough message, but Raphael's heart and soul ached as he wrote it. He smoothed Amy's hair for the last time before planting a sweet kiss upon her cheek. "I love you," he said to Amy. Oh, how much bitter sorrow, how many sweet memories were present in that three words. All the agony and pain and memories filled up that sentence as Raphael's tears dropped quickly. He buried Amy under a pretty apple tree, her favourite fruit, as he went off, tears flooding his vision, towards the first of the noblemen's houses.
"Donovan le Brun. You will pay."
Raphael stared Emmanuel coldly in the eye, hatred evident in every nerve. His vision was cloaked by an angry red cloak, as he readied himself in an attacking stance. "Well then, let us dance..." Raphael purposely drawled the last word, before lunging at Emmanuel, his rapier going narrowly wide of the assassin's windpipe. Emmanuel sucked in his breath sharply, before dealing a quick, lithe swipe at Raphael. The Frenchman swept his rapier in wide arcs, the sword slashing from everywhere to deliver scorching hits. He was fighting better than ever before. "For you, Amy..."he murmured to himself, before tearing through the air with another violent slash. Emmanuel rolled onto an ornately carved table to avoid a low kick from his assailant, before Raphael split the table cleanly, sawdust fogging the air for a moment. Raphael coughed, and the sneaky assassin in front of him took the advantage to land a punishing strike which Raphael barely parried.
Soul Edge seemed to twitch incessantly in his hand, sending streaks of power surging up his arm, the sheer power and strength sending his arm tingling. Emmanuel stopped, hesitant, almost transfixed by the blade in Raphael's hand. Raphael swept his sword low, his hair sweeping over his eyes for a second, before lifting his head. His eyes caught Emmanuel's. Emmanuel could not prevent a startled gasp, for Raphael's eyes were now pure scarlet, as if an intense conflagration burned steadily inside. His eyes blinked simultaneously with the eye on the sword, and Emmanuel could swear all three could see through him.
With an almost inhuman shout, Raphael surged forward in a wealth of utmost power. His sword was a twirling, deadly mass which swished through the air with accurate precision. Every strike landed on Emmanuel, not matter how he blocked or parried. Blood flew freely, splashing through the air as if it were rain.
At the end, Raphael was pointing Soul Edge at Emmanuel, his other hand cupping his face nonchalantly, as if it were a piece of cake. The assassin's cutlass lay on the floor, the sound of Emmanuel being disarmed still reverberating throughout the room.
"You're not even worth killing," Raphael spat, as Emmanuel stammered, "You wouldn't harm an unarmed man would you?"
"Even beasts are better than you! This from someone who killed an innocent child!" Raphael roared, the flecks of spit showering Emmanuel's already bloodstained face. Raphael brought a blood-drenched foot into Emmanuel's crotch, and the French assassin doubled over, howling in intense pain, before Raphael stabbed the tip of Soul Edge into Emmanuel windpipe. He pulled it out, twisting violently as he did so, to intensify the pain. Emmanuel screamed as blood squirted out from irregular intervals. He grasped his throat, struggling to breathe. Just as he was about to asphyxiate to death, Raphael swung a leg right into his cowering mass, blasting the piteous figure out of the glass window, where he hung suspended, before falling with glass pieces tearing up his body further. Raphael smiled icily as he knew Emmanuel was not dead until he hit the ground. A dull thud brought Raphael back to his senses. He looked down, and saw a pool of blood. Raphael heard footsteps from away, very, very faint. Without hesitating, he turned and picked up Amy, wiping the blood off her throat with his sleeve.
He had engraved the words on a stone with Soul Edge sharp enough to tear through the tough material.
Here lies Amy Sorel, beloved daughter of Raphael Sorel
God bless her and allow her to rest in peace.
It was a simple enough message, but Raphael's heart and soul ached as he wrote it. He smoothed Amy's hair for the last time before planting a sweet kiss upon her cheek. "I love you," he said to Amy. Oh, how much bitter sorrow, how many sweet memories were present in that three words. All the agony and pain and memories filled up that sentence as Raphael's tears dropped quickly. He buried Amy under a pretty apple tree, her favourite fruit, as he went off, tears flooding his vision, towards the first of the noblemen's houses.
"Donovan le Brun. You will pay."