Chapter 10
The Bishop waved his hand over a fountain near to him, canceling the spell that allowed him to watch the tournament. He was not pleased with the most current turn of events. And to add to that, the Divine Knights had not reported to him in weeks, forcing him to expend his own energy to follow their progress.
The Three Knights of the Divine. They had more power than they should be allotted. It made them almost impossible to control. Even with all the power at his command, the Bishop could only relay the king's orders. As a mere clergyman, he could do no more. The knights on the other hand were each an avatar of the god they worshipped, and entitled to a fraction of its strength.
If only he had that shard of the crystal given to the king's ancestor, then his abilities would grow as well. In the right hands, that shard could destroy and rebuild this kingdom many times over. With it, he could keep the knights under his thumb. They would never again question his or his majesty's orders.
The old man stared at the fountain a moment longer. His wrinkled eyes narrowed as he peered deep into the heart of the stagnant blue water. With the shard of the millennium crystal, he could control King Valcrist himself. He tried to shake the idea from his mind. To even begin to entertain such ideas was nothing short of heretical. The gods answered to the king. He controlled all light, dark and mana. According to the ancient scripts, if he ever died without a proper successor, the gods would refuse their blessings until a new king were born.
Even so, if the shard were activated, it may just have power enough to make the gods themselves obsolete. If he had the shard the gods would then serve him! The Bishop's heart jumped at the idea. He would be in an unheard of position. He would reign over the entire kingdom, and possibly even kingdoms beyond.
If he were going to do that he would first need to find the shard. That in itself would be a near impossibility. Ever since the time of King Rhamael and the moon-born prince, the location of the shard has been closely tied up within the royal family. Only the king and possibly the young prince's mother would know, and one of them may even reveal that information to the prince himself.
He made a decision. He would have to bring Prince Millian, or Diro as he was known on Earth, to Alundar as soon as possible. However, from his studies, the boy doesn't trust anyone he doesn't know. He would never agree to cross a trans-dimensional rift with him. It would also do him no good to take him across by force. He wouldn't cooperate with him after, considering, that is, he would be able to overpower the boy.
He was too strong to force into anything, thanks in part to Melchior's training. And with the other knights and all of his friends swarming about him, a direct attack from any of his troops would be easily thwarted. He needed someone else. He needed someone who could be alone with the boy and convince him to cross over.
The Bishop peered into the fountain and reactivated his spell. He looked over the many fighters both participating in and watching the tournament. Surely one of these ruffians would be able to talk some sense into the boy. His eyes focused on one particular masked fighter. "Or better yet, beat some sense into him." He grumbled under his breath.
He made up his mind and once again cancelled the spell and began preparations for his transport. He began to draw an encircled runic symbol on the ground around him. Lines began to glow a pale white following his tracings. As he finished, someone behind him politely cleared her throat to get his attention.
The Bishop quickly composed himself, as to not betray his plans. He calmly turned around to face a pretty young girl waiting shyly for his acknowledgement. "Aryne. What is it?"
She averted her eyes slightly and began twirling her shoulder-length pale blue hair around her finger. "My lord King Valcrist has informed me that the Three Knights of the Divine have located my lord Prince Millian at long last."
"This is true." The Bishop assured her. As the only daughter of the High Priestess of the Three Gods, Aryne had often served as a messenger for the royal family. He was used to this kind of polite banter.
"My lord King Valcrist requests that diplomatic steps be taken as soon as possible and his son be brought across the rift."
"I quite agree, my dear. I was just preparing to make such a trip at this very moment."
She started to leave, but decided to ask one more thing. "Holy Father, there have been rumors that once the lost prince returns home; he and I will be joined in union. Is this true?"
"For once, there is truth to gossip." He answered. "Traditionally, the children of the clergy are to wed the children of the royal family. As you know, this is to keep the family closely tied in with the church. However, Prince Millian has been away from his home for most of his life and may not adopt such a tradition."
"If he refuses, what can be done?"
"The prince must be taught responsibility for his people. He must recognize that this is his home and he belongs here." He approached her and took her warm cheek in the palm of his withered hand. "You are a good and faithful child, Aryne. I am quite certain that you will make a wonderful wife and queen. Now go, inform the king that I will do his bidding at once."
The girl curtsied properly and left him to his business. The Bishop felt a small pain of guilt for his scheme, but he knew it was something that must be done. He could not allow the throne to fall under control of a foreign prince. The boy didn't have the proper training for such a responsibility, and his father betrayed his blood-line by mating with a human female. Even if the gods turned their backs to the kingdom, they would forgive his actions for he was justified.
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Sailor Mercury mentally chided herself. She was still a little depressed that Ranma didn't notice her earlier, but she should be concerned about other things. Poor Diro was probably still lying in the medical room in a lot of pain and was expected to fight his greatest enemy in just a few hours. She was definitely concerned about him, there was no doubt about that, but she still couldn't get her head around Ranma. Apparently, not even the wisest of the senshi was immune to the effects of love. Maybe she really did need to take those lessons that Sakura and Makoto mentioned. If she learned how to fight, and could hold her own against Ranma's other would-be fiancées maybe then he'd notice her.
She wondered, would he notice her if she approached him as Sailor Mercury as opposed to Mizuno Ami? She would then make a much more effective fighter as well. Could it possibly work? Well, it was worth a shot anyway.
She shook her head a little to clear out any excess thoughts. She decided to leave Diro's upcoming match in his own hands and not to worry about it. Right now, she wanted to try once more for Saotome Ranma's attention. The senshi walked through the lobby on her way to the auditorium. She carefully eyed some of the fighters that were scattered about in the large room. She had never seen such an ethnically diverse group in her life. Apparently they were all preparing for matches that were to take place later on.
She looked in front of herself just in time to avoid bumping into a rather large sumo wrestler. She blushed as he looked down on her and bowed slightly. Mercury returned his favor before going on her way. She certainly wasn't acting like herself. Usually, she'd be much more mindful of her surroundings.
Turning her eyes to the ground, she accidentally bumped into another fighter. The senshi immediately jumped backed and bowed. "Sumimasen! Sumimasen!"
A busty, blonde wrestler smiled back at her. "It's okay, don't worry about it." She replied. "I'm Nanakawa Mika, but my fans call me Rainbow Mika. What's your name?"
"Um, Sailor Mercury." She answered, slightly hesitant.
The wrestler giggled. "Sailor Mercury? That's kinda a weird name for a street fighter. You look a little out of it. Are you nervous?"
"No, no! It's nothing like that!" She quickly replied and started to back away. "I'm not competing! I was just leaving, so sorry for bumping into you."
"Hey, wait up!" Mika called out. "Um, I'm a little new here so I don't really have much of a following." She flushed a little. "I was hoping you would cheer for me when my match comes up."
Mercury tilted her head slightly to the side. The masked wrestler's request seemed to come entirely out of nowhere and it kind of took her aback. "I don't see why not. But it sounds like you're the one who's nervous."
"I guess I am." She sighed and sat down in a nearby chair. "It's just that this is my first official match and I'm far away from home and all my fans. It'll be a little strange to fight without anyone chanting my name."
Mercury looked at the girl a little more thoroughly. She noticed that she was fidgeting a little and starting to tremble in anxiety. She seemed more than nervous, she seemed afraid. It was obvious that she needed a friend at the moment, which explained her eruption into conversation. Apparently even the street fighters had to deal with pre-performance jitters. "So, why did you decide to compete?" She asked and sat next to her.
"I want to become a famous pro-wrestler!" She replied with enthusiasm. "Just like Zangief! If I compete in the street fighting circuit, maybe people will remember me and I can meet him someday!"
She looked around at all of the assembled fighters again. Many of them were huge, bulging with muscles, and in some cases, weighed down with weapons. "But aren't you afraid? I mean, look at all these guys! Hardcore!"
"I'm terrified." She answered, biting the tip of her thumb. "But this is the best way I can think of to rise to the top. It's my dream and there's no backing out now."
Mercury looked away, glancing at her quickly every now and then. "I get it. You can't just run away, right?" She then looked the wrestler in the eyes and gave her a wide reassuring smile. "Even if the odds are stacked against you, you have to fight to the last!"
"Right!" Mika nodded her head, causing her blonde pigtails to bounce along. She tried to smile and cover up her obvious nervousness. "Hey, um, thanks."
"Sure." Mercury sat back a little. She decided to stay with her for a while. There was something about this girl that reminded her of her own situation.
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"Hey Sakura, do you know who Mel's up against in this round?" Sailor Jupiter asked. She and the others took their seats along the chain link fence separating them from the arena.
Sakura hesitated for a moment. "All I can say is it doesn't look like he stands a chance. He's fighting with Akuma in this round."
"Who's Akuma?"
"The master of the fist." She answered taking a serious tone. "He uses the dark hadou and mastered the style of ansatsuken. They say it's a form of shotokan that was created to kill. Mel's tough, but if he's not careful he won't survive!"
"You're kidding!" Mars demanded. "I've watched Melchior-san and Diro-kun fight at the temple for nearly a month now and I've seen what he can do! Diro could hardly keep up half the time!"
"I've seen it too, but it's still gonna be tough." Sakura insisted. "Akuma's just that strong. I guess that means we'll just have to cheer extra hard for him then!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have another newcomer to the ring!" The announcer addressed the crowd once again. "In this corner, the fighter in black, Melchior!" He waited for the cheering to die down again. "And in the other corner, the master of the fist, Akuma! Fighters please take your stances, and begin!"
As the two fighters stared each other down, the announcer quickly left the ring. Wasting no time on words, Akuma glided toward his opponent and began to attack. He threw a volley of punches and kicks, which Melchior somehow managed to dodge. He then grunted and leapt into the air, twisting his torso he spun in place striking his opponent several times with an extended leg.
Melchior fell to the ground. He then kicked upward, locked his legs around Akuma's torso and slammed his body into the ground. Akuma quickly jumped back into the air and countered with numerous single-handed ki blasts. After muttering a short incantation, shadows engulfed the dark knight's body and he glided through the projectiles. He launched into the air, re-solidifying his body, and delivered a flying uppercut which Akuma managed to avoid.
The master of the fist locked his arm around his opponent. He threw him to the ground and drove his knee into his stomach. Before the knight could even cough up blood, Akuma flipped over him, grabbing his head and tossing him aside.
He popped his neck and slowly walked toward the mangled body. "You have the ability to manipulate the darkness. Impressive, but not nearly enough."
"You should mind your words, warrior." Melchior said, rising to his feet.
He smiled a grim smile as his hoarse laughter echoed within his throat. "Will you be able to control your power? Or will the darkness swallow you completely?"
"Fool." The knight replied, taking a stance and flexing his muscles. "I AM THE DARKNESS!!!"
Shadows billowed out from his body like a thick fog and surrounded the arena. Akuma simply turned his head from side to side as the shadows crept up to him and hid his body from the view of the audience.
"What the hell is this?!" Ranma shouted, trying to peer into the ring. "I can't see after all."
"I dunno." Sakura thought aloud. She looked with intent into the ring, attempting to follow the sounds of the blows and the energy flow with her mind's eye. She glanced at Ranma who was apparently attempting to do the same. He caught her look and gave her a brief nod before returning his attention to the loud sounds of fighting.
A few moments passed silently between the onlookers as the battle apparently continued to rage on. A final grunt could be heard from within the shroud followed by the sound of a bone-crunching attack. "It's over." He said. "And it doesn't look too good."
Just as he finished talking the shroud slowly dissipated. They watched in utter confusion as Akuma walked away from Melchior's unconscious body. "A true warrior must be prepared to unleash the full breadth of his power. You obviously were not ready." He said as he exited the arena.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it would appear as though we have a winner." The announcer said as he poked his head out of the safety of the lobby. In a shaky voice he continued, "Although I don't quite know how it happened, Akuma will advance to the next round!"
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Sailor Mercury giggled at Mika. She was a little ditzy, but with her friends, the senshi was used to dealing with that. "So tell me more about that guy you like." The wrestler prompted.
She blushed again and turned away. She had been talking with Mika about Ranma and her friends for quite a while and had begun to really like the girl. "He's a really good fighter and he actually participated in this competition."
"Really? Did he make it to the next round?"
"Um, no." She answered. "Something happened and he had to throw the match."
"What?!" Mika squealed. "What could possibly be more important than finishing a fight?!"
Mercury thought to herself for a moment. She didn't want to give out Ranma's secret, even if it was revealed to the entire audience. It looked like it was emotionally painful for it to be revealed to his newest friends. "Um…"
"Excuse me, Rainbow Mika-sama?" An official interrupted her. "The last match is over and yours will begin in ten minutes. Please report to the ring immediately."
"Oh no!" Mercury covered her mouth in surprise. "Does that mean I missed Melchior-sama's fight? Did he win?"
The official answered, "No, the winner of that bout was Akuma."
"He was up against Akuma?!" Mika burst. "No wonder he lost! From what I've heard, he's unbeatable!" She glanced over at Mercury's concerned face. "Sorry, but it's strange, Akuma doesn't seem the type of person to participate in a tournament. I wonder what he's doing here." She thought to herself for a second. "And I hope I don't have to fight him!"
"In any case, I'd better check up on him. I'll be back in time for your match, Mika-san."
"Okay, and remember, Mercury-chan, you promised!" The wrestler called out as the senshi left.
Mercury rushed toward the medical rooms. Surely Melchior would be there after a match. She rounded the corner and saw Ranma standing outside of one of the rooms. She calmed herself and slowly walked up to him. "Um, Saotome-san?"
"Oh, it's you, uh, Mercury right?" He asked. The boy still hadn't gotten to know the senshi very well. He didn't even know the girls in their normal forms so great for that matter.
"I heard that Melchior-sama lost his match. What happened?"
"Wish I could tell ya." He answered simply. "Mel somehow hid the action from the audience. Nobody knows what happened exactly."
"I see." She tapped her chin as she wondered how Melchior could possibly lose. "That Akuma guy must be an amazing fighter."
"He is." Ranma assured her. "I don't know much 'bout the street fighter circuit, but just about any fighter has heard about him at some time or another."
"So he's famous then?"
"Tch, infamous is more like it." He spat. "The guy's as close to pure evil as they come."
"I see." She looked into the room to see Melchior waving off the nurses that tried to attend to his wounds, including that red-headed one that looked amazingly like the teacher of her school's sophomore class. "Um, Saotome-san? May I ask you something?"
"Yeah, what is it?" He answered somewhat indifferently.
"Well, um, your match. Why did you quit?"
He scoffed and looked away. "That? Forget it. I just didn't care. That girl, Chun-whatever didn't stand a chance, it wasn't interesting is all."
"So it wasn't about what happened after, you know, you were hit with the bucket?" She pressed.
Ranma shoved his hands in his pockets and started to walk away. "Look it had nothing to do with that, okay? I'm completely over it."
Mercury watched as he left. Perhaps she said something wrong, or maybe too soon. It seemed to her that he really did want to compete, but something stopped him. She would have to work hard to get him to talk to her. Until then, she had to hurry back to her seat; she had a promise to keep after all.
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The masked fighter Vega stood in front of a full length mirror in his private dressing room. Being of noble birth, he was able to "talk" his way into some sense of privacy. This way, he could inspect his beauty unencumbered. That foolish young ninja had no idea of the pain that was coming his way. It was his own fault for striking his face.
That time three years ago when he challenged that pitiful old Kotaishi Kunio. That blasted child of his got in the way and actually managed to lad a punch on Vega's gorgeous face. It was then he decided to kill the old man and scar the boy for life. It was only by dumb luck that his claw didn't destroy the child's eye. That was something the conquistador meant to correct. Rather, instead of merely taking Diro's eye, he would take his life. Then the entire world would know the price of damaging Vega's beauty!
He raised his clawed fist high above his head and brought it down swiftly over the mirror, leaving three long scratches. "It won't be long now." He said to himself while licking his glossed lips.
As he once again became enraptured by his reflection, despite the new scratches on his mirror, a soft light began to glow on the other side of his door. He took no notice of it however until he heard a light knock. He chose to ignore the intrusion for he had given specific instructions to be left alone until it was time for his match, and he knew that to be a long way off. Again he heard knocking, this time louder and more determined.
"What is it?" He barked at the door.
A raspy voice from the other side, which sounded to Vega's keenly tuned ears like the scraping of fingernails on a chalkboard, answered, "I wish to speak with you about your upcoming fight."
"Can you not understand that I desire to be left alone?!" He barked once again. "I've nothing to discuss with you! Leave me in peace!"
"I have information about your opponent of the sort I am certain you will find interesting." The voice insisted.
"That dullard?" Vega scoffed more to himself than to his would-be intruder. "He has never been of interest a day in his life!"
"This time he is. Allow me to enter and we will discuss it further in detail."
The masked fighter thought to himself for a moment before making his way to the door. He held his clawed fist at ready as he turned the knob. At the sight which greeted him, he swiftly and almost elegantly dropped his guard and grabbed a nearby handkerchief to cover his nose and mouth.
Before him stood an old man in loose-fitting purple robes. The sagging skin of his face framed his weary eyes and mouth and drooped about in an unkempt fashion as though it were in fact a thin fabric that had not been ironed since the day it had been sewn. His complexion was so pale that he seemed to glow a bluish hue. His arms, the only other part of his body uncovered, seemed to grow out of his robes like gnarled branches. He was a sight that hurt the conquistador's eyes to behold.
"Madre Dios!" Vega turned away in disgust and raised a hand to shield his vision.
"I presume you are disturbed by my appearance?" The old man asked. "Well rest assured that I find your company less than pleasant as well. But I have business to conduct with you, so you must tolerate my presence for the time being."
"Repulsive old man! State your business and be gone!"
The old man smiled to himself, his wrinkles widened making his face appear to fracture into a dozen pieces. "About your match. You will fight a young man called Diro Kotaishi, will you not? You should know that he has powerful allies, allies who have prepared him for you."
Vega turned to face his intruder, lowering his hand to look him in the eye. Although the old man was ugly, he resisted the urge to look away. "What about these allies?" He asked. "Tell me old man! Who exactly are you?!"
"My name is of no consequence." He answered. "And of the child's allies, all you need to know is that he has been prepared. One of them has the ability to heal his wounds, and to prevent him from becoming injured further."
"You speak in riddles, old one." Vega returned.
"His body is now impervious to your claw." He answered plainly. "I can rectify this, however, with a simple incantation."
"Save your witchcraft for someone who needs it." The conquistador spat. "You've tried my patience enough, now leave before my claw finds you."
Ignoring his threats, the old man began to chant beneath his breath. Subtly, a soft light began to emit from Vega's clawed fist. He stared at it for a few moments in disbelief as the light died down, leaving a strange insignia in its stead. "That wasn't too painful now was it?" He asked sardonically. "Now all you need to do is, at the right moment, perform one of you finishing techniques. Use the one I believe you call 'Red Impact.'"
Vega stared at his fist and the insignia on the back. He then looked up to see that the old man, whoever he was, had already left. What on Earth he did, he had no idea. Nor did he know the reasoning behind his assistance. He couldn't even tell if half of what that sagging pile of skin said was true, or if it was merely the ramblings of an old fool approaching senility. Nevertheless, if his words held any merit at all, then his battle just may become more interesting than he would dare to hope.