I'm so sorry for delaying thing until now… I've had school, piano, vacations… all those things to do. So for being patient… You get another chapter for the price of one! ($999) This one that is along w/ Chapter 2.
Karel's StoryChapter 3 – Fight for my life
The day of the duel had arrived faster than seemed possible. It was too obvious that Karel wasn't ready – at least not mentally.
"Ah! Call-it-off! Call-it-off! I don't wanna do it mom!
"But you were so excited at first."
"Not anymore… Not anymore…"
A new voice, the voice of Karel's father interrupts his son's ramblings,
"Well then, let us leave, Karel."
"Yes."
All contrary thoughts had to be eliminated with Krael's commands. After saying good-bye to his mother, sensei and student left the house and started towards the training grounds. They turned onto the forest path and walked for a short while. As soon as the house was out of sight, Krael called out to a seemingly clear path,
"Come out you arrogant fools. You hold your swords like assassins, yet for planning to kill Karel, you waited until I was with him. Did you honestly believe you could defeat me?"
Two dark, masked figures appeared from the side of the road, directly in front of the road.
"Heh heh heh. What chance do you think you have against the two of us…? The top ranked assassins of the Ken dojo!"
The figure that spoke removed his facemask.
"Remember my face – it's the last thing you'll ever see-"
Krael had lopped the big talk assassin's head off instantaneously. He didn't even appear to draw his sword. He was merely there, next to a headless body.
"Your friend talks – my apologies – talked the talk…"
The other assassin hadn't moved from his spot. Shrugging, he spun his dagger expertly. He thought,
"I don't wish to kill this young boy… but failure means death…"
The assassin dashed towards Karel. However, Karel's eyes had but one object to view. The man that his father had beheaded. The assassin's head was cleanly severed, a horrifying expression plastered permanently on his face. The body had fallen; not a single drop of blood was spilled. That's how fast the process of decapitation was.
Karel desperately wanted to vomit. But something was stopping him. It was the tension. The absolute tension of battle held him up by his hairs. Karel might not be kill-ready, but he was definitely battle-ready. Karel avoided the first hit, but the follow-up was coming faster, faster than Karel could dodge…
CLANG
Metal clashed against metal with a loud, odd reverberating sound, causing Karel to shield his ears with his hands.
CLANG
CLANG
Krael first knocked the balance off, then the guard, then finally struck the assassin's word away, making it clatter uselessly against the ground. Stepping closer, Krael pointed his sword at the man's neck – threatening to kill.
"FATHER! DON'T!"
Karel spoke,
"Well done, quite impressive. You survived three whole clashes. That's three more than most that challenge me to a fight."
"Hmph," the assassin spoke, " don't patronize me. Just get it over with."
"Well, there's the problem. Karel obviously doesn't like bloodshed for one, but there's something much more important. You appeared to be holding back."
"!"
"You didn't really want to kill Karel did you? Well, I can't kill you then – at least not here, not now. That would be pointless. Rid yourself of the way of the assassin and fight me as something worthier – a paladin perhaps, or a hero."
Krael released his sword point and sheathed his sword. He marched on forward.
"Come, Karel."
"Y-yes."
Karel hurried forward to accompany his father, but not without sparing one last glance backwards at the man who had been sent to take his life. The man slumped and collapsed onto his back. He took off his mask to reveal a handsome face, yet scarred terribly with old wounds of battle. Looking higher, he stared up at the marvelously blue sky, the clouds that glowed with the light of that coin in the sky called the sun, the calling birds – everything.
"Heh… a hero, huh? Ha…"
Going back to the protagonist, he was approaching the training grounds with his father. As he did, some of the elders gasped as they saw the pair coming.
"Weren't they supposed to be taken care of?"
"I thought they were but-"
"The assassins must have failed!"
"Impossible! They were the best we had. They couldn't have-" this elder trailed off as a messenger whispered in his ear,
"Saiba was beheaded. Of Brendan, there was no sign… except…"
"Except what?"
"This."
A large circular stone was brought to the attention of the elder.
"What is this? You carried this boulder all the way with you?"
"Yes, I used the alternate path and dragged it back."
"What is it? What could be so important about this useless rock?"
The messenger shifted the other side of the large slab of granite to the elder's view. The elder sharply took an intake of breath. Stabbed deep inside the stone was the slightly curved dagger of Brendan Reed. The messenger whispered,
"It was slammed so hard into the boulder that I could not remove it. So I had to carry this all the way with me."
"I see. And what of the remains of Saiba?"
"Disposed of on the spot."
"Very well. Dismissed!"
The messenger quickly disappeared.
"Hm… So Brendan. You deserted us after all. And what of your son? Will you desert him as well?"
Meanwhile, the pair of Krael and Karel had finally arrived on the fields.
"We… have arrived!"
"Well then," called out an elder, "without any further delay, let the match begin."
A million hands pushed Karel out onto the arena. He stumbled visibly, just a bit, before standing straight and tall, or as straight and tall as he could, before his opponent.
Karel thought,
"This guy is tall… He looks strong too. Maybe… Maybe I should just give up…"
"Karel!" whispered Krael, "you cannot lose. Because if you do through either battle or default, it was agreed that you'd be executed!"
"…What… But why?" asked Karel in a small tone of voice.
"It's pointless to ask that – just remember that it's the consequence."
Karel had sadness. He knew that his father had known beforehand and agreed. Now… this was a fight for his life. Betting his life, there was likely something on the line. His eyes watered just the slightest amount and as he turned around to face his opponent once more, some of the particles shimmered out of his eyes making the light in front of him sparkle. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow in anger.
"Why Father… Why? This has become a… fight for my life!" he thought.
He had visibly calmed down, and he opened his eyes fiercely. They were clear now – completely determined. There was no hesitation or fear. His opponent was totally unnerved.
"What valor this kid has," thought Lloyd, "perhaps this won't be as boring as I thought."
Both participants were brought to the center ring and handed bokken. The judge deemed both were ready.
"BEGIN!"
Lloyd immediately rushed forwards as Karel leapt backwards. Lloyd started a straight slash at Karel. Karel ducked under it while making a slash at Lloyd's knees. Lloyd, jumping, was frankly astounded.
"How can a six-year-old have such speed and reactions? I wasn't as good when I was six!"
Eyeing each other warily, the opponents circled. That ferocious look of determination never once left Karel's eyes. This time, Karel was the one rushing forwards. Karel swung his wooden sword straight down.
"I can parry this one and counter!" thought Lloyd.
The arc from Karel's slash was moving down as Lloyd's parry was coming up. A large SHTACK sound was heard as the two collided. A circle of dust emanated from the two combatants' strikes. The two struggled against each other.
"What in the world? I was supposed to be able to counter this one! But the pressure pushing down on my sword is amazing! I can barely keep this up…"
Lloyd dropped the pressure on Karel's bokken and sidestepped left. Karel, still pushing down, fell off balance.
"Now!"
Lloyd swung his sword with a free collision against Karel's back, causing the six-year-old to fall and roll.
"But if this is the speed and strength, I can match it and defeat this boy."
Both swordfighters breathed hard, as sweat started to appear on their foreheads. As such, they were startled to hear Krael's voice ring out.
"Karel! You have my permission to take them off!"
"Huh? Take what off?"
"The weights!"
"Hooray!"
Lloyd was in disbelief.
"He was moving that fast and hard with weights on? How heavy are his weights?"
Karel took off the weights on his body – the breastplate, the sleeves, the pant legs. Taking them all in his hands, neatly folded, he accidentally tripped, letting the weights fly. They landed in around the same spot – well, not really landed. More like… crash-landed. The weights crushed a good portion of grass down to the earth, making an imprint.
Lloyd walked up to the black heavy sleeves and lifted them up.
"What the hell? Each of these must be at least ten pounds, making a grand total of 50 pounds. I think I'll have to get serious."
Lloyd stood up and readied his sword, his face determined now. An elder questioned,
"Is Lloyd losing?"
"No," replied another elder, "he has defeated every opponent he has faced, and that shall not change now. He isn't referred as a genius for nothing."
"Wow!" cried Karel, "I can really move faster!"
"That's nothing."
"Huh?"
"I said that's nothing, " repeated Lloyd, "I was holding back. And now, I have now reason to."
Karel dashed towards his opponent at top speed.
"Haaaaaa!"
"Shadow strike!"
"Huh?"
Karel tried to block the seemingly slow strike only to be slashed dozens of times.
"How… did your bokken go through mine?"
"Techniques are often slippery like that… But you wouldn't know that because you don't have any techniques! You're just relying on brute force! Ha!"
"No… I have one…"
Karel raised his bokken above his head – the starting pose for the most basic technique in the Ken style.
"Hah! You have the single strike of the leaf? How pathetic. Crescent slash!"
"Single strike of the leaf!"
The two techniques clashed, but the crescent slash was obviously stronger as its power blasted Karel backwards.
"It's been amusing – I'll give you that, kid. Now it's time to finish this duel."
Lloyd flipped his sword backhand and positioned it behind him.
"And now the technique I've been perfecting is finally ready. I'm going to use it on you. And it's called… The rushing tiger claws!"
Lloyd swung the bokken in an intricate repeating pattern, remaining in the same spot, faster and faster until it imitated the silhouette of a roaring tiger. With the image fully formed, he rushed forward with a yell.
"Gwuaaaah!"
Karel saw the attack coming. He was done for – he knew it. His usually tense muscles became completely relaxed. Suddenly, a flash completely invigorated his memory:
-Flashback-
"Single strike of the leaf!" bellowed Krael.
The bokken was brought down upon the dummy. The difference between student and sensei's technique was great indeed. Whereas Karel had managed to snap the dummy in half, Krael… Krael had completely DECIMATED the dummy. What was left was a pile of dust and ash.
-Flashback-
"… must relax your muscles…"
-End Flashbacks-
Karel felt an enormous, powerful sensation take over his body. The sensation tingled even in his toes and extended to his fingertips. His arms raised the bokken completely by themselves. 'The rushing tiger claws' was coming closer and closer. There was a pulse that radiated from Karel's body. Visibly blue threads of energy flowed from Karel and formed a vortex. Karel's arms slashed the bokken down.
"SINGLE STRIKE OF THE LEAF!"
A huge explosion rocked the area as pieces of rubble flew out. Dust shadowed the entire area. Lloyd made his way out of the cloud and coughed hard.
"Sorry, kid. I won't let you win this…!"
A jolt of pain struck Lloyd from all sides as the effects of the clash came about.
"Aaaaaargh!"
Lloyd fell to the earth. He tried moving everything. Just his left arm worked. Said arm grasped his bokken tightly. Lloyd plunged the tip of the bokken into the earth with his shaky left hand in an attempt to stand. Suddenly, the weakened bokken shattered into a million pieces, leaving Lloyd back on the ground.
"No. I can't lose to a six-year-old. It's just not fathomable. I'm supposed to be a genius. What am I…?"
"You're beat," declared a completely tired Karel, "and I win!"
The judge, coming back onto the field, was in shock. The genius of the clan just lost. To a six-year-old. Someone who just started learning swordsmanship.
"Hey judge," said Karel, "are you gonna declare me winner or just stand there?"
"Oh! Right! Uh… Winner: Karel."
Krael smirked.