Series: Division of Destiny||Story: Reign of the Undead King||Chapter: The Sparring
Characters: Piemon, Vamdemon, Chosen Children, others||Pairings: Ken x Daisuke/Daisuke x Ken, Mimi x Sora/Sora x Mimi
Chapters: 10-40||Words: 2,565||Total: 26,619
Genre: Romance, Drama||Rated: PG-13
Summary: Vamdemon and Piemon rule supreme. Only now, ten years after their victory, are things about to change. For good or for ill.
Piemon didn't like reading over reports. He knew it was necessary for the proper running of an empire, but that didn't mean he liked it. That was what he had servants for, anyway. They read over the reports and told him what he needed to know, if anything. He busied himself with what truly mattered: keeping his unruly horde of minions in line and preventing the Digimon from uprising and overthrowing his domination.
He also enjoyed spending his time practicing with his weaponry, hunting for Gennai and his idiot band of do-gooders, and sampling fine wines, especially the ones Vamdemon sent him from Earth. He seldom turned down the chance to read a good book as well. It was hard work ruling an empire. He deserved what pleasures he could save for himself.
With practiced care, he ran the edge of one of his swords against the sharpening stone. His Trump Swords didn't actually need to be sharpened like this; being forged of digital steel gave them an edge that never needed improving. But he liked the sound it made, and more than once he'd used it to keep lesser beings like Pinnochimon in line.
At least he had when Pinnochimon was still around. Where had the little fool wandered off to? Piemon didn't know, but he cared only in the sense that the puppet was indeed an Ultimate level Digimon, and power like that needed to be tamed and contained, not allowed to wander as he would.
Perhaps he'd have Koushirou look up the idiot. He'd had others look for the former Dark Master before, but the redheaded human was a master of finding others through the network. He still hadn't found Gennai, but Piemon knew well that the old warrior would be more likely found by accident than design. So far those leads the young man had spoken of had failed to pan out properly.
He made a note to himself to assign Koushirou to the search for Pinnochimon and continued to tend his blades. He still remained mildly surprised that taking in three humans, three who would've worked and fought against him under any other circumstances, had worked out so well. It had taken some time and effort, of course, to get them to where they would be as loyal as they were to him, but he'd had the time and he'd been more than willing to put in the effort.
In his opinion, he'd done a better job with these three than Vamdemon had with his four. Vamdemon destroyed their humanity entirely, replacing them with four hollow shells filled with bloodlust and fake smiles. Piemon took ten years to raise three fine children, each of whom was as loyal to him as could be.
He suspected that if they had the chance to return to the human world and seek out their families there, they would take it, if only for closure on that part. But he'd already made plans in that event. They were his and he would never let them forget that.
Piemon rose to his feet suddenly, sending his sword back to where the four of them rested when he didn't need them. He didn't care to just sharpen them mindlessly; he wanted to put his weapons to use. And since there were no Digimon in range who he wanted or needed to shred to their digital bits, there was only one other option: to find someone to spar with.
He knew just who he wanted, as well. He'd trained Yamato for years, once the boy recovered from his injuries, and knew how he moved as well as he knew himself. Yet there were still moments with the young blond could surprise him.
He wasn't at all surprised to find Yamato moving through one of the more difficult fighting forms when he arrived at the training room. For the first few minutes he simply stood in the shadows and watched, noting places where Yamato needed to improve his work or where he'd already improved from the last time they'd sparred against one another.
Piemon knew that he would want an assignment soon, something to prove his dedication and loyalty, something to show how much better he was than Enshoumon. He'd suspected that would happen ever since she began to rise up in the ranks. Yamato wouldn't stand for anyone else to take his position in anything.
"You're doing quite well." Piemon chose just the right moment to step out onto the training mat, hovering a few inches above it. Actually walking on floors wasn't something he did on a regular basis. He considered it more of an intimidation technique than a way to get from point A to point B.
Yamato whirled the moment the first word fell out of his mouth, and bent down on one knee without hesitation. "Master."
Piemon nodded, not touching Yamato in praise the way he would Takeru. The younger blond enjoyed the physical affirmation of his approval, while Yamato simply accepted a few words as accolades.
There were times Piemon wondered if human parents had to worry about these things as much as he had. Raising children of any species could turn one's hair white.
"Stand up. I have something new to teach you." He'd made a point to never teach Yamato everything that he knew, and to encourage the boy to develop his own style. He didn't want a mirror image of himself in human form wandering around. There could be only one of him. He imagined his enemies would agree with that as much as he did. Yamato was his student, his enforcer, and his minion, not his reflection.
Yamato was on his feet a moment later, and while his features remained hidden by his mask, his eyes betrayed his excitement. He said nothing else; not that Piemon expected him to. One point he'd always regretted about the attack that scarred Yamato was the loss of the blond's proper voice. Always an appreciator of the arts, Piemon wondered what his singing voice would've sounded like now that puberty had finished having its way with him.
Piemon drew out his blades and began the first part of the lesson. Both of them were already warmed up, and it didn't take long before their swords clashed against one another, sparks flying. Piemon knew well how much strength he could use against the other, and how much Yamato would use against him. He pressed forward, pushing the other to either step back or move around, then darted over to prevent that route of escape.
Yamato had definitely grown in strength since the last time they fought one another. Piemon approved; he would need all the power he could muster to finish Gennai off when the time came. The leader of the Dark Masters knew quite well how much hatred for Gennai burned within Yamato's soul, and never failed to take a chance to fan the flames higher. He hadn't inspired them, but he encouraged them frequently over the years.
The new move he had in mind featured more than just strength, but involved agility and speed as well, factors Yamato held just as much as he did strength. Piemon knew if he didn't master it now, it wouldn't be for lack of trying. It would come in due course. Yamato was not one to give up something that might give him an advantage on the battlefield.
Piemon showed him the move over and over, until sweat dripped from both of them, and Yamato had to fight to breathe without strain. Yamato did all within his power to duplicate it, and managed to do so, though not yet with Piemon's mastery of it, before the Digimon overlord called a halt to the proceedings. He'd successfully occupied his time and now dinner's hour approached.
"Master." Yamato spoke as soon as he'd caught his breath, busy wiping the sweat off with his handkerchief at the same time. "Mission."
Piemon did not hold back his smile. "Did you have something in mind?" He liked Yamato choosing his own tasks. It showed an eagerness to please that Piemon found quite thrilling.
He was also not surprised when Yamato nodded. The other had likely thought about this before he'd even considered opening his mouth. With as few words as Yamato spoke these days, he tended to make those as meaningful as he could.
"Gennai."
Piemon tilted his head. "Koushirou's clues haven't amounted to much. Do you think you can do a better job?"
Yamato's lips curved upward into a light smirk. "Yes." Oh, there was definitely a plan forming behind those cold blue eyes. Piemon approved. He approved so very much.
"Very well. Take what you need. I think I can manage without you for a few days at least." There wasn't much that he needed Yamato to do anyway, and Takeru could take up the slack while his brother was away. The two of them tended to trade off like that as it was. Yamato would also trust Takeru not to try to backstab him, a trust that he extended to almost none of the Digimon around the palace.
Yamato bent his head obediently, and headed out a heartbeat later, once Piemon gave a quick signal of dismissal. Piemon looked forward to seeing what he could return with. If nothing else, there might be a few interesting tales about enemy Digimon disposed of to regale them all with. Though knowing how Yamato worked, it would likely be Gabumon telling them instead of the blond.
Piemon smiled as he wended his way toward his own quarters. He wished at times that he could get his hands around the throat of that Flare Lizamon again. Perhaps this time he would drown it before shredding it down to its component data. Or perhaps even better, he would turn it over to Yamato and let him wreak his own vengeance on the creature that damaged him so much. He would like to watch that.
Leomon spun, slamming the sharp edge of his blade into the sparring dummy's neck deeply enough that if it were a living creature, it would surely die. He rested there for a few seconds before wrenching his sword out. It wasn't enough. It couldn't be enough, not yet.
I need better sparring partners. He could not be sure if he'd ever be able to go up against Piemon himself, but he trained with that thought in mind. Piemon was known far and wide as one of the greatest swordsmon the Digital World had ever known. Anyone who dared face him needed overwhelming strength, skills, or luck. Preferably all three.
For the last ten years or better, luck had been in extremely short supply, and strength and skills hadn't been much better.
Leomon checked the edge of his blade before he returned it to the sheath. It would do, for now at least. He would tend to it with more care before he took his rest. Until then, he needed something more to let out his nervous energy on.
If Ogremon had been there, he would've challenged the other to a match. They both would've enjoyed it, for different reasons. But his counterpart was needed still at the Village of Beginnings, and there were few others who could match him here.
He made up his mind on what to do in a heartbeat. If there wasn't anyone around here he could spar against, then he would find someone out there who he could fight, be it a not-so-friendly spar or actual combat. Depriving Piemon of any of his warriors was always a worthwhile goal.
Not to mention it would give him something to do that wasn't sitting around and waiting for reports from Earth to come in. He trusted Gennai's choice in spies and in getting Wizarmon to work with the humans there, but waiting for all of that to happen grated on his nerves far too much. He preferred action himself.
There were times when he wished that he could've gone to Earth, and could face Vamdemon directly himself. All of this was his fault, once the cobwebs and misdirection were swept away. If he'd not touched the humans who now served as his vampire pack, then none of this would've happened. He didn't know what would have, but it would be better than what they did have. If only because he had no idea of how it could've been any worse.
Focusing his thoughts away from there, Leomon sprang out of one of the concealed exits to Gennai's base, and strode briskly through the woodlands, keeping every inch of his attention on the alert for any Digimon who might be in the area. He hoped that none of the smaller ones had seen him coming out; they'd kept Gennai's location a secret all this time only by be exceedingly careful when and where they left and how they returned. A single Digimon looking in the wrong direction at the wrong time could bring it all down upon them.
If he hadn't known any better, he wasn't certain if he could've told that the Digital World remained under Piemon's thumb as firmly as it did. While the world had been twisted for years, there were still areas that reminded him of File Island and how the Digital World looked in its glory days.
Leomon made sure to range relatively far from the exit before he set himself to looking seriously for any of Piemon's warriors to confront. He refused to fight any of them near the exit, not wishing to risk anyone getting an idea of where to look for the hidden mansion. What little information they had from the inside of Piemon's workings told them that Koushirou, former Child of Knowledge, spent a great deal of his time trying to find them, and countering his efforts took time.
His ears twitched suddenly, and Leomon pressed himself against the nearest tree. He'd heard footsteps, measured and wary, the pace of a hunter. He didn't think it would be Takeru, not so soon after the encounter at the Village of Beginnings. But there were others high ranking in Piemon's hierarchy who might be in the area, and Leomon hoped this was someone who could give him a good battle.
The wind wasn't in his favor; he couldn't get any sort of scent of who it was. He didn't move, not sure if they had the skill in reading scents that he did. With it not being in his favor, it was in theirs, and he preferred to keep what little advantages he could find.
What he heard was little more than the movement of feet through the grass. No stray twigs or branches broke under this person, which argued against it being Piemon, who would not set foot to ground willingly. Leomon didn't yet know if that were good or bad. A chance, no matter how slim, to take the evil Digimon out could not be turned down.
He tilted his head up and saw a branch reaching out above him, one wide and strong enough to support his weight. He didn't think about it for another moment, but leaped upward, claws digging in and holding on tight. Attacking from behind wasn't his preferred method, but he could see who this was first, and make his plans from there.
To Be Continued