Of Sweeping, Searing Swords
Zesiro mowed down another foe. With his true ferocious nature of the predator within him unleashed he doubted any one could dare to stand in his way. His two swords had been in near constant motion since then. They hadn't stopped moving. It was as if Zesiro's true self had emerged from the shadows. A brief moment of freedom amongst their shackles. The beast could only be free for a short while so it would enjoy itself while it had the time.
Zesiro's predator instincts had grown. He could sense the slightest bloodlust aimed at him and the slightest fear towards him. "Flying Fish Slicer!" Zesiro shouted as he spun around, throwing an incredibly fast and powerful cut through the air. The opponent it had locked in on was another unfortunate sod that was under the control of Alistair's promises for a better future. The man didn't even stand a chance. His muscles had clenched up the instant the razor had flown towards him.
However, despite Zesiro's newfound power he still couldn't help, but feel slightly inferior to the world around him. Perhaps it was foolish of him, but now that he had found out about a great power he realized how clueless he still was about fighting. It was like taking one step forward just to find that the road you're on is a million miles long. Zesiro supposed he'd just have to take pride in the little things.
As a matter of fact Zesiro was fairly certain he'd run into someone else of high skill level on this island soon enough. He was certain there was no shortage of enemies around here for miles. However, that Al guy seemed like he was probably one of the strongest men under Alistair's control. He didn't really think anybody else he could summon was a threat.
Or perhaps he spoke too soon. There was a sudden wave of power that surrounded him, not quite killing instinct, but it was pretty damn well close and this wasn't an ill-trained solider who accidentally let it slip out when he had you in his sights. This was a targeted attack. Whoever was out there was trying to scare hm. Or get him riled up. Either way they were going to regret their choice. Zesiro unsheathed his swords, turning to meet his target, but to his surprise he didn't get the first strike. An inferno of fire began to whip around him.
"Red Hawk!" A great red incendiary bird burst through the skies and aimed its break right at Zesiro. The swordsman twisted around and brought his two swords forward, each one aiming at a separate wing of the beast.
"Two Sword Style! Sky Shark!" Zesiro lashed out with his swords, immediately piercing and destroying the bird. Zesiro gripped his swords tightly as he realized the bird was made of fire. He could feel a sort of undue warmth coming from his blades now. He should consider himself lucky that his swords were still cool enough to hold.
Zesiro locked eyes on his target. His opponent was a slender older man, not real old, probably just in his late thirties or something. The guy had a fierce bright red hair and wielded two blades, each with its own sheath at his side. The sheaths were black with golden flames trailing down the sides. His swords were mismatched one was black and obviously fairly dull while the other was silver and very sharp.
Zesiro spent a few more seconds eying the dull blade he had in his hand. Perhaps Zesiro was just a prude, but he believed a sword should be sharp.
"I hope you're a lot sharper than your sword," Zesiro grumbled as he looked up at his attacker. He just got a smirk in reply. "What's the matter? Shark got your tongue?" Zesiro stepped forward and began to spin his swords around in circles. "The least you could do is tell me your name."
"Flint Godstiel," stated the man, before shrugging, "or at least that's what people call me. I don't subscribe to the notion that we all need to possess a name. It makes things convenient I guess. But I prefer to just be known for my skills with a sword."
Zesiro smirked and nodded back at him. "I suppose you are right about that. Being talented with a sword is what all swordsman should be known for, not just cause their name is well-known. Everybody should focus on their talents rather than just trying to make a name for themselves."
Flint smiled. "Right. I suppose that's why I'm going to be winning this fight. I have honed my skills with my two swords to the point of damn near perfection."
"Really?" asked Zesiro as he looked around him at all of the burn marks dotting the area he was standing on. "Cause so far the only thing I've seen you use other than that mouth is your fire Devil Fruit power."
Flint laughed loudly as he stared down at his opponent from his spot on top of one of the buildings. "Devil Fruit power? What you've witnessed is just the strength of my swordplay." The guy lifted his two swords up and into the air, he crossed them. Suddenly he slid his black one down the side of the silver one. The twin swords suddenly burst into flames.
"Flint," Zesiro muttered as he shook his head, "I should've realized. Anybody who talks about sword skills as much as you do, but uses a dull blade probably has a good reason for it. The black blade is made of flint and in order to make it where it doesn't splinter and break at the slightest provocation. So it is thicker and a lot less duller to make it sturdier."
"Phoenix Crash!" shouted Flint as he slashed his swords across each other once more aiming for the skies. Once more a large flaming bird exploded from his swords and into the sky. It swirled around for a brief moment before twisting itself around. The bird plummeted down towards Zesiro.
Armed only with his swords Zesiro tightened his grip on them. They hadn't let him down before. He took aim at the large bird, crossing his swords before him. "Two Sword Style! Great White Whirlpool!" Zesiro spun his two swords out forming a funnel of flying slashes out in front of him. The great flaming bird was immediately absorbed into this funnel, destroyed by nearly a dozen slashes coming at it from each direction.
Zesiro was done being on the defensive. He turned to face his new attacker and brought the tips of his two swords together. "Shark Spreader." Zesiro leapt at this opponent bringing his weight behind the two deadly points. Then with a simultaneous thrust and slash he snapped the two swords apart from one another.
Flint brought his swords out and crossed them to block the vicious incoming dual thrust and slash attack. "Backfire!" Flint shouted as he scrapped his flint blade down Zesiro's blade causing a blast of spark to fly up and at Zesiro. Zesiro twisted around, swatting the blades aside with his own before charging in.
A new mix of attacks escalated from there. Zesiro kept on the offensive, just like his predator instincts told him to do. A variety of slashes flew from his hands, diagonal, crosses, uppers. He kept them quick, concise, and compact. No need for extra long swings, just amplifying his power as high as it could do with short rotations.
Due to the vicious offensive nature of Zesiro's attacks Flint was forced into a much more defensive role, but it fit him well. Every possible swipe Zesiro launched there was a threat of an equally terrifying counter-attack. If Zesiro's slashes slowed down by even one second, Flint would skewer and roast him on the spot.
However, Zesiro showed no signs of slowing down. Even if his finely tuned warrior senses weren't telling him to beware, his predatory instincts told him slowing down meant death. Zesiro rushed in. A larger swing coming from him, that burnt the air in front of him to cinders. However, a large opening like that was just what Flint wanted to see.
He drove his flint blade forward and rammed it right into Zesiro's shoulder. Zesiro didn't back down. Instead he remained charging in, letting the blade seep deeper into him, however, he didn't seem bothered by the pain in his shoulder. Zesiro twisted his swords around, placing one on either side of Flint. From there he brought them both back together with a dizzying amount of force.
With his blade still lodged in Zesiro's shoulder, Flint realized he couldn't just dodge the blow without losing one of his swords. Flint twisted his sword to put Zesiro in as much pain as possible. From there he used his other blade to block one of Zesiro's two blades. He would just have to grit his teeth and bare the other attack.
Flint's body was twisted from the attack, but he had been wearing a form of armor beneath his loose clothing. While he was still hurt, it was just an incredibly dull ache rather than loosing the lower half of his body. Flint sturdied himself once more, he pulled his flint blade free from Zesiro's body and took his distance once more.
The last attack my have been blunt due to his armor, but he could still feel the inhuman Fishman strength that Zesiro touted as quite possibly his greatest weapon. However, even with that ultimate strength Flint wasn't giving Zesiro the upper-hand. With his distance once more reclaimed he brought his two swords together and clacked them together just once, letting a shower of sparks surround him as two blades turned bonfire once more.
Flint threw the new growing fire at Zesiro, "Great Heat!" The large ball of fire soared towards Zesiro at great speed. Flint then quickly brought his two swords back together and then fired a both an upwards and downwards slash that clashed in the middle forming a near laserbeam like blast that rippled through the air and at Zesiro. "Red Magnum."
"Ship Split!" Zesiro stated as he rushed forward, leading with his two blades before splitting them apart and ripping the large ball to pieces. He quickly snapped his two arms back together, using the larger surface area of his arms and muscles to shield himself from the more laser-like blow. The attack seared his arms, but Zesiro wasn't in the business of complaining.
Zesiro dove through, braving the flames just for the chance to close back in on Flint. His two swords already beginning to beckon for blood. Zesiro narrowed in on him fairly quickly. Zesiro leaned over, moving in from below Flint's chest. Zesiro slammed forward, skidding right up against Flint and from there, he struck upwards a massive cleaving slice bursting from his hand and right at Flint's head.
Once more Flint managed to sneak his sword in between him and Zesiro's blade, this time bringing his Flint blade in and creating a massive show of sparks when the two blades clashed. Zesiro didn't give up though, he brought his blade back down on its returning path with just as much force. A quick block from Flint didn't even make Zesiro flinch as he just rotated into another. Every attack was met with a block. Flint was truly a fearsome opponent. However, even if Zesiro did admit that, he was not out of his league.
Zesiro had completely pushed Flint on the defensive and that alone talked of skill, power, and ability. That wasn't saying that Zesiro felt like he was better than Flint, it just meant that he was on winning side. Flint didn't seem like someone who liked being on the defensive any more than Zesiro. And he wasn't.
Flint soon returned to the offense as well. He charged forward, meeting Zesiro's vicious crossing of the blades. The two pushed each other equally, trying to gain the upper-hand to finish their offensive onslaught, but neither side seemed willing to budge in the slightest. Both seemed equally determined to go on the offensive. Apparently both sensing that the other would not yield, they decided to both go on the offensive.
Flint whipped his sword into the air, "Ashen Arc!"
"Geyser Burst!" screamed Zesiro as his blade came in, swooping upwards from below rather than above.
The two weapons clashed in the heat of the battle before the two swordsman's very own eyes. They both rotated into another slice this time coming in from opposite sides. Another magnificent clash which sent sparks flying upon impact. The two then rotated once more this time using their other blades and coming in from the other side. Another clash of the blades which resounded with a brilliant chorus of steel.
The two swordsman weren't done with each other. They took a powerful step forward, bringing their two shoulders together in a test of strength and endurance. Zesiro was surprised that Flint could withstand the strength of a Fishman, which was twenty times that of a normal man, but Flint didn't even seem fazed. He must've fought men of equal reputation and strength to that of his own.
"I find myself wondering where you came," stated Zesiro gritting his teeth and pushing off of the ground, attempting to shove Flint back. "You definitely don't smell like the same breed of the men on this island. Where did you come from and why are you?"
"I'm a member of the Revolutionaries," stated Flint, being up front for the first time during this fight. "Despite my many talents I am still one of the lowest ranking official officers. I don't care though, it just means there are all the more people there for me to test my skills against. I imagine things would be a bore if I was the best swordsman amongst the Revolutionaries."
"Who else is worth note?" asked Zesiro as he swung his sword around arcing it through the air to punctuate his point, "maybe I'll hunt them down when I'm through with you."
"Like you could handle them," Flint offered, "besides I was deemed enough to handle the riff-raff we'd find on this island, so the other two or three that excel my skills are remaining on call in case an actual need for their skills arise. However, I suppose knowledge of their names wouldn't matter. Damiyo and Carvo are our top two swordsman."
Zesiro recognized that first name, but ultimately he didn't care. His only thoughts were on this battle right here and right now.
Two Swords, Two Swordsmen
SWORDS! So this chapter didn't get uploaded.