OOC: Thank you for following my story. I hope you enjoyed the journey so far. In this chapter, I did my best to incorporate elements from the game, particularly the moves of Nailsage Sly and the Perfect Vessel. I hope you will find the read ahead entertaining and fun!

Chapter 5 – The Soul of a Warrior

What did I do wrong?

The knight backed away, as the merchant Sly drove him back at the tip of his oversized nail. One part of him was wondering as to how such a small bug could lift something this big, so effortlessly. The other half was just confused. The creature looked at the shopkeeper with its one eye. Desperately trying to remember. The mind was forming images. Fight? Humiliation? Cruelty? Injustice? Was the small bug wronged by it somehow? I … cannot remember. I couldn't have… could I?

Sly did not seem to be having any of these thoughts, as he pointed the blade at the tall bug, making it step away and create some distance. About three times the length of that triangular sword on the small merchant's shoulder. The lights from the Luma flies were reflecting on its pristine, polished surface. One of them, attracted to the gleaming, flied closer, only to be sliced in twain from the contact with the nail, and falling on the ground, twitching.

"Draw your sword, Knight! I, Nailsage Sly, am challenging you to a duel!"

But why?

The knight looked to the left, then to the right. A small crowd of confused bugs was forming to the side, still keeping distance, partly scared, partly excited by what was going to happen. This almost looked like a show to them. But the tall bug could guess an intent of some kind in the small bug's eyes. He was serious about all of this. And so, slowly, it reached behind its back, pulling out the sword out, holding it in the only hand. It left the scabbard with a raspy sound, as if it were an old bug coughing. Sly's frown became indignant, as he looked at it, eyes trailing the weapon all the way from the hilt and down to the tip.

"Tch. And you call yourself a knight? Might as well take a metal bar and call it a nail. You might have fooled others, but I will expose you for who you are. On your guard!"

'Tchhhink!' –the shiny, polished sword met the chipped one, leaving another bite on it. The small creature launched himself and his monstrous blade forward, to attack. In a blink of an eye, he dashed towards the knight, swinging the weapon at the knee, before turning around to attempt a strike at the other leg. Once more, the knight parried, and felt the vibration painfully resonate into its arm.

So strong… It can bring me down. I should not try andmatch it…

No room for more thinking. The third blow came in hard, cutting through the air, kicking up dust across the ground in its wake. The knight jumped high into the air, briefly a shadow above ground, before descending, with the tip of the blade pointed downward. If you want a battle… so shall it be.

PFTANK!

The flat of the triangular nail met the tip of the old nail as if it were a shield, its polished surface letting it slide harmlessly to the side. "Impressive! But do not think I am yet through with you!"

Backing away and putting the tip of the sword between himself and the tall knight, Sly suddenly propelled himself in the air and spun like a spinning top, so quick the bug's weapon turned into a big, sharp circle around him. The creature's eyes widened. What it saw was different. Instead of an attack, it was a buzz-saw. The buzzing sounds of thousands of whirring blades rang in the knight's ears as he jumped back, barely in time to not get caught by the sword. Its sharp edge easily slicing through the new cloak Iselda made earlier.

"Frightened, eh? Well you should be! For I… woah!"

PFTANK! PFTANK! PFTANK!

The knight counterattacked, angrily, swinging its own old nail in a left-right-left pattern, forcing Sly on the defense. Once more, the big wide blade acted as a shield, as the Nailsage parried the attacks, before dashing backwards, making distance between himself and the opponent. The tall bug planted its foot into the ground, to not try and chase after, lest be caught off-guard. Its shoulder ached at the joint, reminding the creature of that time it almost fell when climbing the chain up the well. The knight's chest rose and fell, a wheezing breathing coming from under its mask.

It dared to blink, with its one eye, and the moment that happened…

DINNNNNN!

The Nailsage was back, his blade barely parried. The force behind the strike was so great it pushed the old, chipped nail away, the edge dragging across the knight's chest. Cutting the bandages covering it, and leaving a thin slash mark over the hard, chitinous shell. Sly smirked, but then his eyes widened, as he saw underneath the bandages. One, two, three… nine holes. Nine stab wounds. They were clothed, but still visible across the chitinous chestplate. Flabbergasted, the Nailsage took a few steps back, which gave the Knight a chance to counterattack. Taking a few steps back, the creature lunged, with its blade in front as if it were a spear.

The attack taking Sly out of his brief stupor. Holding the handle with both hands, he made a counterthrust towards the tip, and then turned the attacker's blade and his own to the side. All the force behind the strike going to the right and down, into the ground. The Knight did not relent, planting one foot forward to stop the lunge and letting it absorb all of its force, pulling its nail back and releasing another flurry of blows. Weapons clashed, sparks flying into the air, as each strike was both an attack and defense. The smaller combatant jumping about like a deadly yo-yo, with the taller knight trying to cope with it by using its longer limbs for the reach. But with each breath, each passing moment, the knight felt a burn inside its chest, an ache in the stump of its missing arm, and a swelling ache at the right side of its skull.

I won't last… I must do this… quickly.

For a brief moment, the only eye behind the mask stopped looking lost and confused. In it appeared… resolve. The Nailsage noticed that, the moment another spinning blow was coming from above, threatening to cleave the Knight in twain! The nail came down, effortlessly slashing through the two-pronged bony mask, the cloak, and the black chitinous body… Before suddenly, vanishing.

AN AFTERIMAGE?!

A brief moment of terror, as the tall Knight appeared behind. A sharp, accurate thrust, aiming right into that space between the Nailsage's head and body. One blow, to sever all the nerves controlling the body.

CHHHINK!

The tip, once more, met the flat of the big, triangular blade, which Sly put on its path without even turning around. The attack had failed, the tip slid against the metal, harmlessly, leaving not but a single thin crape on its polished surface.

"I have seen enough." – the Nailsage announced, jumping away from the Knight, landing on top of the bench, to seem higher, and putting a sword on its shoulder. The creature looked at him, frozen still, not understanding what was going on. A moment ago, they were clashing blades, with an intent to kill.

"You didn't think I'd be fighting you for no good reason, eh? Na, I wanted to see what you were capable of, get a measure of you."

Unwilling to drop guard, the Knight remained with its weapon pointed forward, though its head tilted a little to the side, not sure what to think of … this. Sly laughed a bit, at that reaction.

"You are who you say you are. Compliments to whoever trained you in the nail arts – they managed to drill those lessons into your very being. Even though you lost your memories, your body still remembers how to fight. And you fought with one arm better than most fight with two." – the Nailsage said. He seemed… honest. It made the knight lower down his weapon. The habits and customs of the bugs in this city were … strange indeed. The Nailsage hopped off the iron bench, and approached, looking up at the knight, and let out a sigh, shaking his head.

"And yet… I felt no drive in you. No purpose, besides the primitive desire for self-preservation. Whatever took memory claimed your reason to fight with it. Look at your nail."

Both of them turned their heads to look at it. It was… pitiful. Slightly bent now, and with deep chinks across the blade. It hummed a little when moved through the air, almost as if weeping. Sly frowned.

"A nail is a warrior's soul. Yours is broken. Fix your blade, before you fix yourself. Venture to Greenpath. If you look hard enough, you will find a student of mine. Recently, I hear, he found a friend, skilled with the anvil and hammer. Perhaps that friend can help you."

The small bug walked past the Knight, towards the little shop. Before turning around, and giving a quick look over his shoulder.

"Come back with both intact. Maybe then we will have a real battle. There's no point in fighting … a cripple."

With that, the Nailsage left, leaving the Knight alone. The crowd dissipated, hushed whispers and gossiping the fight, and whatever the words said there meant. The tall bug approached the iron bench and sat on it, to recuperate, and catch a breath. It was not completely fit for fighting, not yet. The injuries of the past still took toll. Briefly, the bug passed its hand over the notched and chipped nail of his. Carefully feeling each of the little nicks it accumulated over time.

I'm so sorry… I've been neglectful, haven't I?

It almost spoke, reaching down and finding a nice, hard little stone with a flat side. Dragging it along the blade, at an angle, to soften up some of the harder nicks and bumps. A raspy sound followed in its wake.

Don't worry, we'll find the friend that strange little bug was talking about… He will fix you…

But can he fix me too?