Chapter 118 - The Gala Part 3

"PANT, PANT, PANT…"

'It seems we may have underestimated the amount of dancing we would have had to do to keep those ladies happy…'

'Amen to that, Biko…'

'STILL THINK YOU SHOULD RIP OUT THEIR INNARDS AND STRANGLE THEM WITH EM, KING…'

'Well, good thing I'm not like you then, isn't it?'

Heavy pants escaped Nico's lips while he leaned over a sink, his head hanging low which allowed sweat to fall from his forehead to the sink below. His eyes looked slightly shrunken, a sign of fatigue while he gripped the sink's sides with both hands. He had taken off his suit's overcoat and stored it inside his Void Storage just, so he could get some air to cool off after his little dance-a-thon on the dance floor.

The male currently found himself within one of the Basilicom's main bathrooms, having gone there to take a break from both his search for the Nobles and Yvoire, as well as dancing in general. After his dance with IF, Nico had been made to dance with Neptune next (of which she nearly threw him around the dance floor with how bad she was until he managed to barely correct her in time) and then Compa (Whom he found to be the second normal one but wouldn't look him in the eye for some reason). Not only that, but after witnessing his dancing skills, many of the noblewomen both married and not married wanted to give him a shot. It didn't help that all of them had seen the footage of his music video with Aiden and Ivan, thus wanted to have a piece of him to themselves.

Made their husbands and other male nobles jealous as all hell…. But by the Goddesses that had been awful.

Biko even had to pound away at a hysterically laughing white copy of himself who just LOVED to revel in his misery. Prick.

In any case, he had spent WAY too long entertaining those women (ugh, that sounded so bad in his head…) and had to take a break to relieve the tension built in his joints… as well as to take a breather. Fortunately, one of the guards (one of the few who seemed sympathetic to his plight instead of those jealous assholes) had seen fit to intervene when he was about to lose it and directed him to the closest bathroom that there was available to use right now. That guy should seriously get a raise, maybe he could get that to happen to the good guard…

Anyways, that was why he ended up in this place taking a break from everything… yet, Nico's thoughts still ran a million miles an hour. Mostly from what IF had told him about Yvoire and the others. Including that talk, they had with regards to the lack of him asking for their help with this Gala. A talk that constantly played itself through his mind like a loop, never letting him think of anything else. It made him grit his teeth while clutching his suit just above the space where his heart would have been.

He'd hurt her.

He'd fucking HURT her!

Not only her, but he probably hurt Neptune and freaking COMPA too!

That revelation constantly slammed into his skull, refusing to let him rest and granting zero mercy. He felt his blood boiling at those thoughts each time as they circled through his mind like an electric current, constantly slamming into the confines of his brain like thunderbolts. Nico bit back the urge to growl, his eyes briefly shining red while he berated and cursed himself over and over. Utter loathing escaped from his being like a river finally breaking down and exploding out from a damn, spilling forth into the ravine that was his mind, heart, and soul.

Nico had NEVER wanted them to be hurt, especially not by something that he had done. Nico had done everything he could on his own just, so THIS wouldn't have happened. Those girls had become the lights to his darkness, the sole pieces of heaven in this hellish world, thus he had done his best to stop them from being 'tainted' by the darkness that he saw in the world. Nico had done everything by himself, only trusting Biko for advice since he was a part of himself. That fact meant that, essentially, he still trusted no one enough to have them help, he was just so USED to operating on his own that he hadn't even thought about asking for someone else's help. He was used to being able to do that stuff on his own because that was why he trained so hard in the first place, so he could feel worth something and not be the utter sack of shit he knew he truly was deep inside. He wanted to be useful, to be strong, to be better, to survive. He wanted so many things from his training, yet they all concerned himself.

He HAD to be stronger.

He HAD to be faster.

He HAD to be smarter.

Everything about him HAD to be better.

The male couldn't remember the last time where he truly relied on someone else, no, he couldn't remember a time when he ever did something like that. Whenever he was with another group (rarely enough) Nico would always come up with plans he could implement on his own due to being sure that eventually, those he was with would fail somehow. Usually, they did, and those that didn't fail he would have let have the spotlight while he dealt with anything they missed. He stayed in the shadows, out of the limelight for so long that it had become second nature. His loner streaks had become natural to him, his primary methods of operating.

But… BUT. That had changed. Well, with what had happened back there on the dance floor.

Memories of the hidden pain that he had seen in IF's eyes, hidden by her usual smirking mask of confidence, filled his mind like a plague. A tumor. It made him feel sick to his stomach, and also feel like an utterly wretched piece of shit that shouldn't deserve to live. He held his left hand before his face, gritting his teeth so hard that they could have cracked under the pressure. These hands had inadvertently hurt those that he had cared for, something that went completely against what he wanted to do.

It filled him with utter disgust, utter revulsion. What IF had said got to him, he could feel it down to his bones. The fact that he had hurt those he had considered being people potentially trustworthy filled him with such rage that it would give the Red Rage Ring a fair contender for most powerful rage. Nico didn't notice it, but his body began radiating an orangish red aura, one that poured from him like wisps of vapor that filled the air around him, as well as the entire bathroom, with thick tension and pressure.

'Nico, quickly calm yourself! Your Powers are reacting to your rage! Snap out of it! NICO!'

A gasp tore through Nico's lips, his eyes regaining focus as he snapped out of his rage-filled trance. Once he did, his aura disappeared completely, having receded quickly into him like a katana being swiftly sheathed with a loud SCHINK, like it had never been there in the first place. The tension, pressure and Killing Intent provided by him also vanished, leaving everything just as it once was before. His breath soon came out as a series of sharp pants and gasps as he tried to regain his composure, his previous emotions wow replaced with shock and disbelief.

"Wha… what the…?" he whispered under his breath before his eyes widened and realization dawned on him. He remembered what Biko told him long ago before he had come to Leanbox. How his powers were heavily influenced by emotion, rage being the most prominent one. It had been so long since then that he had almost forgotten, only for these events to be a sharp wake-up call to a trip down memory lane. Nico soon set his lips into a firm scowl once his breathing became calm again, his eyes hardening as he stared down at his hand. This time, there was this trembling feeling coming from it, born from the experience he just went through.

Clenching his fist, Nico frowned as he placed it back on the sink. Honestly, he had surprised himself, the durability of these sinks must be amazing since he had gripped it to a point where a small dent shaped like his fist could be seen when he moved the hand on it (probably so as to allow for some of that noble pig swine to bang a maid here when they want to, which is almost all the time considering they don't really worry about anything else). Still, though, the sight served to be a reminder for him, a reminder of just what kind of power had been granted to him and what he had accumulated over his training. It gave him a solid reminder of what he was, what he would become… and to be frank, this was the first time he felt it, even for a brief moment, but he felt… uncertain, anxious even. These emotions vanished just seconds after appearing though, so he didn't think much of them.

'Have you finally calmed down enough?'

Mentally, Nico nodded his head in response, his thought settling down into a calmer state of being. His eyes became normal sized again before he slouched slightly over the sink. 'Wow… for a moment, I didn't even realize… geez, I forget just one thing and look what almost happened…' Nico thought with a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. 'I almost lost it and blew up the entire Basilicom.'

'Not just the Basilicom, you would have taken a portion of MICROSOFT with that level of rage… and that wasn't even factoring the Red Rage Ring with its anger-based abilities.'

Hearing that caused Nico to shift uncomfortably, worry dancing across his features as the gravity of what could have happened sunk in. How many lives he could have endangered, how many would have been ruined because of him having an emotional freak-out. His powers were influenced by his rage, so he should take more care in not getting angry. A snort escaped his lips the moment he thought that saying those words and actually adhering to them were completely different things. This event just proved it. Now, more than ever, Nico needed to stay calm and collected for the sake of everyone's safety.

It was at that moment, that the male let out an exhausted sigh. 'Ugh, this blows… I need some comfort…' he thought to himself. Now normally, such a source of comfort for a man in this situation would be either alcohol, money or a companion (goddess knows how most men only have these on their heads). Either male or female it didn't matter, it all depended on the person's preferences, really. Nevertheless, what NICO found to be the most relieving was… something else, something that would fit a warrior like himself.

Turning around, Nico leaned against a nearby wall, sliding down it till he sat against the Wall before reaching out with his right hand. A warrior like Nico himself had no need for the common pleasures life had to offer, no, there was only one thing that would truly de-stress him in this situation. Something that he hadn't gotten to do most of the day, and it sickened him… though, he didn't feel like he was the only one who thought that. Mentally, he called on his Void Storage, and in a flurry of black Datastreams, a familiar Devil Arm appeared to be grasped by his hand at the handle: Rebellion.

Once he felt it in his grasp, Nico allowed the familiar texture of the demonic sword's hilt to sooth his hand, the sensations from the hand traveling through his nervous system to his brain. It elected a soft sigh from his lips, a sigh of such softness and content that Nico hadn't expected to feel today. Hell, just looking at the Devil Arm, let alone feel it in his grasp, proved to be as refreshing as taking a bath after a hard day's work. Not only that, but he got warm sensations from the Devil Arm, which obviously reciprocated the gesture. It felt glad to be in the hands of its master, and he could feel the jealousy from his Devil Arm collection within his Void Storage through their links.

Still, as Nico raised Rebellion so that he looked upon its horned skull, as well as the flat side of the blade, he couldn't help but notice something when holding this blade. He had practiced with it the most out of his Devil Arms, because there was a distinct difference between them. While it didn't have the most powerful or versatile of abilities, nor was it as destructive as Soul Edge, Rebellion just had this… charm to it, a charm that made him think that he would use it for any sword technique that he learned. Quicksword, Vipersword, no matter.

He would use Rebellion for them.

Not only that, but the blade felt… stronger, better even, when he wielded it. It was like it slowly became less of a Devil Arm and more like just another appendage attached to his body. Nico recognized this feeling, this feeling of familiarity and sense of connection, it was said throughout Leanbox's many martial arts groups that when a warrior's weapon and the warrior do battle, they develop a bond similar to brotherhood. He had stated this before, but his Devil Arms and he were brethren-in-arms. They were inseparable, the Devil Arms were irreplaceable.

'Even so… there's a certain beauty to these Devi Arms, a beauty each of them has their own version of…' Nico couldn't help but think while staring at the flat side of the blade. Nico had seen it a couple times, but there were times where he would appreciate the weapons he had, like an artist admiring a painting. It was like these Devil Arms were slowly becoming treasures that he would never part with, not ever. Part of him had felt scared upon learning of this, while the rest of him squealed with delight.

'Still, this feeling…'

Nico closed his eyes, still holding the blade over his eyes. This reminds him of something, something he had heard from Guts a while back…


(Fashback)

"Say, Guts?"

Its was 5 days before the Gala, and Nico was standing in the middle of a field, dozens upon dozens upon dozens of fallen Cultist, Northmen and Demonic Corpses spread over it. His form bathed itself with the blood of his slain enemies, the teen having stabbed Rebellion into the ground and now used it as a means of support.

Guts, the Spec Ops Agent whom he had fought alongside on a previous Quest, sat by the corpse of a particularly large Bloodletter, holding out his Dragonslayer in front of him. A manner not unlike what Nico would be doing in the future unbeknownst to him. Sensing that a question had been asked him, Guts glanced towards the teenage male who now moved to sit on an equally large corpse. He didn't say anything, not for a while, but his eyes soon glinted, and Nico realized that was his way of saying 'what is it?'

"Where did you get that sword from? Whoever made it had to have been a great practitioner of his craft." Nico questioned, looking upon the sword he wielded with a mix of awe and curiosity.

Guts, however, didn't part with that information so quickly, though. His eyes slightly narrowed towards his companion, the two have joined up to fight these monsters as requested by the Guild. He would have gone with his Partner Isaac, but… he was still doing chore duty for his wife, who could be REAL scary when she wanted to be. Thus, Nico seemed like a suitable option. He'd fought with the kid before, so he knew somewhat what he was like as a warrior and as a person. "Why do you ask?"

Nico, in spite of the wariness being shown towards him, responded simply while shifting his gaze back to the black swordsman. "Nothing much, I just wanted to know. Whoever made that sword obviously intended for it to slay something large like a dragon or a large Abnormal. Though, it doesn't look like a weapon anyone can use."

"… you would be right." Guts eventually responded after a while of silence, looking down towards the ground as memories swam within the depths of his mind. "This sword was no ordinary sword, its maker, a blacksmith who is long dead now who went by the name Godot, fashioned it to slay Abnormals. We of Leanbox may have a rivalry with those of Lowee, however, aside from comfort for those who wish to retire, we also specialize in martial arts, blacksmithing, the like. Godot was a blacksmith who devoted everything to his craft."

Nico hummed in thought at that, taking in the information he just learned. It was true though, that Leanbox was filled to the brim with people who traveled down the paths of weaponsmiths, armorsmiths, Warriors, the like. He had seen more than a few himself, and most of the reason why Leanbox was still standing was due to its value of martial prowess. A load of Martial Arts schools and Disciplines existed in this Nation, as a stark contrast to Lowee who specializes in magic. Leanbox maybe full of asshole Nobles who should go die in a fire, but it also had people like these who fought as warriors, as people who fought for their own ideals. It was a… redeeming quality about this Nation, in his opinion.

No wonder there are so many Khorne Worshippers on this Landmass, it was like a paradise for them since there were many experts in martial prowess here, something that Khorne would fangasm over.

"He sounds like he was an interesting guy."

"He was…" Guts nodded his head in agreement, though the motion was so barely noticeable Nico thought he hadn't done it at first. Guts looked to the skies, his eyes becoming vacant by the second as more memories flashed through his mind. "He dedicated his whole life to the hammer and anvil, therefore he never had a family to call his own."

At this, Nico arched a brow, interest piqued at that. It rarely occurred when he would learn of someone who didn't try to have a family these days, as people mostly got together either for political reasons, or the desire to start a big family to help the human race last longer. This was interesting information to him, and Nico wanted to learn more. To learn more about this interesting Blacksmith. "What was he like?"

It took a moment for Guts to come up with an answer… and soon enough, he found one. "He was… gruff, standoffish, rude. Not that uncommon in these parts. Lived alone in the mountains where he could work in peace. However, he had a good heart in him, despite his grumpy exterior, proven when he ended up taking in an orphaned girl named Erica on a whim and raising her as his own daughter."

For a moment, Nico thought Guts was done, but then he continued. "He told me once that he had been a blacksmith hammering away at a young age for family reasons, to the point where he didn't even know if that was what he wanted in life. Even when he was an old man, he still felt like he didn't know if he wanted this, he didn't choose it. he devoted his life to it nonetheless though, because he knew it was who he was. I remember him telling me that he wanted to 'see sparks'. He liked them, sparks, brief moments of newly born life that illuminated his work."

After saying this, Guts looked back down at his Dragonslayer, which he now placed horizontally across his lap. The sword's metallic shine greeted him, showing him his reflection. Something that Guts stared at for seemingly an eternity, lost within its grip. That is, until he pulled his gaze away from it and looked over to the EXTREMELY interested Nico. "DEATHSTROKE… there is something I want to know. Do you think of your sword as simply a tool? Or something more?"

Blinking, Nico momentarily didn't know what he was asked, but then his mind clicked it together and he let loose a small exhale. This… this wasn't something he talked about normally, not with people he didn't trust. However, during their conversation, their battles, Nico oddly enough began to feel a… kinship of sorts, with the black swordsman. They were both beings who practiced the art of the sword, they both fought on the front lines together, they both have born witness to countless sights both good and bad. Closing his eyes briefly, Nico opened them and looked towards his Rebellion. "… No. This sword, and all the other weapons I use, none of them are just tools to me. They have been with me for so long now, that it feels almost like they are a part of me, an aspect of the person known as Nico. I can't even imagine a life without them." he replied, grasping Rebellion's hilt and holding it out horizontally in front of him. "This one especially. Every battle I've been in, this sword has been by my side. Most of my battles, most of my opponents who define me… they were illuminated by this sword."

"Good answer." Guts responded with, nodding in what seemed to be approval. Like he had been waiting for an answer like that for a long time. Nico blinked, slightly caught by surprise as he put Rebellion back onto his lap. "Isaac may be a brother-in-arms to me, however, he does not share the same values as I regarding our weapons. My sword, it has been at my side for as long as I can remember. It is part of me, and like Godot, I like the Sparks it makes when clashing on the battlefield. You have the same values as me..." Looking back to Nico, Guts' lips curled ever so slightly, a glimmer of respect in his eyes. He held his sword out in front of him at an angle, pointed directly towards the Spec Ops Agent.

Nico, at first, didn't know what the heck was going on, but after a moment he did. His eyes shone with an understanding light, an equal smirk tugging at his lips as he raised his arm, and placed Rebellion in a similar position to the Dragonslayer. The two weapons, one being larger than the other but both having a similar aura to one another, an aura of a weapon used primarily by a true warrior, touched at the tips.


(Flashback END)

Blinking, Nico returned to reality after that momentary lapse in memory. Once he did, the male looked down at his Rebellion, the sword giving off this warm feeling to him that only a weapon whom had been with the wielder for a long time could have shown. Thinking about what Guts said, Nico couldn't help but wonder. 'This feeling… this feeling of companionship, this desire in me… the desire to see sparks… is this the feeling that Guts looks for as a warrior every day…?'

Now that he thought about it, that thing about Khorne forces being most prominent in Leanbox, it actually seemed like something to be expected. Leanbox DID after all specialize in the exact opposite of Lowee whom specialized in magic. Khorne, though he is the god of bloody slaughter, he is also the god of martial pride and honor, of those who set themselves against the most dangerous foes and earn victory against the odds. Odds were, that those who followed him would end up champions of both honor and bloody slaughter. It only made sense that his forces would try to conquer Leanbox since their culture fit quite snugly with the martial pride of the Khornate sub-religion.

In a sick, twisted sense, the God of Blood-lust also promoted honor, teaching his champions to quickly spill the blood of those who fought on the battlefield while weaklings weren't worth his time. No glory came from harming them, at least directly, the only way to achieve glory was through bloodshed and carnage. Khorne didn't care whose blood was spilled beyond that, no matter what allegiances the victims may have. There were no Basilicoms or any places of worship for Khorne, as for him, the battlefield was the sole temple he needed. This Chaos God drew his power from ANY conflict, be it conflict born from his followers, his allies, enemies or conflict that didn't involve him. No matter what, Khorne always drew power from conflict, which now that Nico thought about it, made him think if this Chaos God was the strongest of them all.

Still, Nico would happily face those followers of his, hell maybe even Khorne himself once Nico got strong enough. This Chaos God sounded like he enjoyed nothing but pure bloodshed and chaos, he didn't pull any elaborate schemes like his brothers did, he only got his pleasures from the swing of a sword, the loosening of bows/crossbows, the firing of guns, and any other form of combat. That made Khorne a highly dangerous deity if he was real, and considering the things he'd seen, Nico found himself surprisingly more willing to believe in his existence than before. Strange.

Another strange thing came to him: that bloodlust in the air that Nico sensed.

He didn't know how, but one moment the air felt clear and calm, and the next thing he knew it became heavy and tense. The tell-tale signs of killing intent if he ever felt them before. His instincts heightened, his senses sharpening like a beast alert to the presence of danger, while he sharply responded to this new unseen threat.

Nico got to his feet, holding Rebellion in his right hand while looking about the Bathroom. His eyes gazed coldly, his posture defensive while he searched for any signs of attack. Everything may LOOK the same as it had always been since he came here, but the redhead male trusted his instincts above most other things, as they had saved him from more ambushes than he cared to mention.

Mentally, he reached out with his senses to try and find the sources of the killing intent, hoping to track down their positions. Sensing negative emotions definitely had its perks, since he could feel the origin of said emotions and the people who felt them. Very few would ever be able to sneak up on someone like Nico before, now it would be nigh-impossible.

However, before he could locate the source of the killing intent, Nico's instincts screamed at him to intercept, and he did with the use of the Quicksword, deflecting multiple projectiles that were sent flying towards him from multiple angles. Nico caught sight of them afterward as they fell to the ground, realizing that they were arrows. Looked like whoever used them had a bow or a crossbow for a weapon, he figured.

'Not over yet!'

Biko's warning helped him notice several shadows burst free from several cubical, both of them darting towards him at high speed. Well, high for human standards anyway, cause I'm sorry, but Demons are superior to humans in every physical feat possible (though he didn't know if Guts would be an exception though given that humongous sword of his…), thus Nico easily placed Rebellion onto his back and unleashed the Windcutter.

SLICE, SLICE, SLICE, SLICE

4 slashes, unseen like the cold breeze, were sent towards the two assassins as Nico almost waltzed past them, excluding a level of grace only a skilled swordsman could possess. Almost instantly after he stopped and twirled Rebellion into a fencing pose, blood exploded from the cuts adorning the two Assassins. Both of them cursed and cried out as they fell, their bodies hitting the ground with a pair of loud THUD sounds.

'You struck them at their tendons, so they cannot escape, am I right?'

'Yep, and considering I sense more killing intent from different directions, I'm guessing there are still more to come.'

Turned out Nico's prediction came true because the next thing he knew, Nico found himself being attacked my about 8 different assassins, each of them sporting various Crossbows, Daggers etc which they used in their own specialties. The ones wielding the Crossbows hung back, unleashing a volley of Arrows in the redhead's direction, while the others ran in-between them. Odds were, they intended to do a pincer assault to make use of the small space the Bathroom offered to corner him, then go in for the kill. A tactic that WOULD have worked on some normal person… Not on Nico.

'Quicksword…!'

SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH! SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH! SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH!

Dozens of slashes came down upon both the arrows, as well as the assassins that came too close, coming down like raindrops and being equally impossible to avoid. Rebellion, under the influence of Nico's skilled hand, tore through everything that got in its path. Nico could feel it through their link, how the sword almost squealed like a fangirl at the opportunity to slice through warm flesh once again, making Nico mentally roll his eyes. Practically all his Devil Arms had thirsted for blood, it seemed. All the slashes hit their marks, slicing through both the Assassins and the Arrows to rip them into teeny tiny pieces.

Blood, limbs, guts and gore splattered across the ground, almost like an artist painting a picture. A rather gory artist, but an artist all the same. The sounds of organs splattering across the ground rung throughout his ears, much to the joy of his sentient weaponry, while Nico himself smirked under his breath for a different reason.

This had been just what he needed, Nico was a warrior and he belonged on the battlefield. This had been the perfect way to relieve his pent-up stress. Now, he could focus much better on the tasks at hand. It had been too long since he had stepped foot onto the battlefield, all these politics and prepping for the Gala had stressed him too much and he needed something to vent it all on. This moment, this moment where he had meant to have been assassinated, in truth became a moment of freedom.

Freedom for a warrior dragged into politics.

Several cries of alarm, fear and dread filled his ears, breaking Nico out of his post-battle bliss. This made a wave of annoyance rush through his mind causing Nico to frown in disapproval while turning to the source of the sounds. 'Ugh, I'm going to skin alive the ones who dared ruin this moment for me…' the male thought to himself, clenching his fists as his Devil Arms screamed for retribution. His cold, piercing eyes soon caught sight of the two Assassins he had left alive, quivering in their boots while seemingly trying to get away from him. Horrible effort though, since thanks to his slicing of their tendons they could not even move their arms or their legs.

Now that he looked at them, the male noticed how they wore hooded cloaks that covered most of their forms. Their attempts at mobility had only resulted in them shifting, just enough so that he could see their leather armour beneath, including their various weapons, poisons, everything a typical assassin would wear. Pools of blood had formed around them though, thanks to their sustained wounds from his Quicksword technique.

At first, he considered the thought of just killing them and getting on with this farce called a Gala. After all, judging from what he had seen from the Nobles here it seemed that they were more interested in lining their own pockets than actual politics. The only ones he could feel were exceptions of a sort would have been Stefan, Vert and Yvoire. That last one seemed debatable, as while he did have a ducking love boner for his Nation, the man wasn't above taking out those he perceived as 'threats' with unorthodox methods.

However, another idea came to him when he remembered the looks on the faces of the girls, looks that stayed his impulse to end the lives of these wretches. An idea that he had to smirk at as he walked over to one and had IT come out, grabbing one by wrapping around the neck and pinning him to a wall. IT also stabbed the other Assassin through his limb, pinning him there so he wouldn't escape. Not like he could though thanks to his wounds, and now he wouldn't be able to use any healing items to speed his body's recovery up.

"Alright, now that I've dealt with your 'buddies' how about you talk? Oh don't worry, I have WAYS of making you."


Chapter end!

Another chapter, done!

Bit on the shorter side, but hey it got some very interesting elements out of the way.

To be honest, I see Nico and Guts getting along as two warriors on the battlefield, brothers in arms, due to their similar views, their opinions on their weapons, and them being general bad asses. Nico is self-explanatory, but Guts can do similar feats to Nico even though he is completely human. Guts is LITERALLY the strongest human in the Berserk Universe, and that holds some weight here. In my opinion, Guts could probably survive for a while in the Warhammer universe since its, essentially, a more extreme version of his own universe. Think about it, there's a world ruled by demonic forces, there's gigantic demons who kill humans, and the odds are stacked against him. Guts deals with shit like that EVERY DAY like they're nothing but mere bug bites. Fighting Warhammer Demons would be nothing new to him.

Nico has also shown to have similar views and traits to Guts. He may not be human, but realy what defines being human? Is it flaws? Beliefs? blood? genetics? There's no clear answer, but in the end Nico never considered himself human but a monster. A monster that kills other monsters. Yet, even so, he continues to fight, to fight in order to survive in this harsh, unforgiving Gamindustri. In that respect, not too different from Guts' situation, is it? Both are warriors born and bred for battle, so it would make sense for them to have a mutual respect for one another. Maybe they could become friends in the future. But right now, Nico has some #ahem' investigating to do, and he will goddamn get that shit done.

In addition, the thing about Leanbox having Martial Arts as a selling point shouldn't be that surprising. Look at the culture, marital arts existed in medieval times, I just added in some Japanese ones due to this being a Japanese game franchise. Not to mention KHORNE is into this place, due to being the God of bloodlust, hatred, rage, and also martial pride and honor. He doesn't like killing weaklings, only the strong. Though indirect killing is fine with him. Aside from that, carnage and bloodshed are all tributes to him, and a Land like Leanbox who specializes in this stuff (rivaling the Magic-based Lowee) would probably give that guy a massive power boner. Review and tell me what you think.

Till then, look forward to the next chapter, everyone! Leave a review to tell me what you think of the chapter.