I don't own anything but what I create. For the sake of understanding, I will write Anderson's words normally, just imagine the words being said with a very thick Scottish accent.


"Are you sure that there isn't anything I could do to convince you to stay longer?" asked Walter as he watched his adopted son pack up his meager belongings.

"I told you when I came back that it was only for a couple of weeks," Ranma replied as he loaded up his backpack.

"I know, but I had hoped…"Walter said as he handed Ranma a couple of folded up shirts.

"What, that I'd stay here and help you? I don't think so," Ranma said with a little laugh. "I still need to travel, to wander. I'm not ready to devote the rest of my life to the Hellsing Organization."

"Well, I do hope that you follow my advice and return to your homeland," Walter said as Ranma finished packing.

"When I'm ready, father," Ranma replied as he slid his sword into sub-space.

"Very well," Walter said wearily. "Don't forget to write."

"Have I ever?" Ranma said with a smirk.


Ranma adjusted his backpack as he walked down the road to the airport. His thoughts, however, were on the final talk he had with his father. He had promised him that he would go to Japan, but he didn't say when. He sighed as he picked up his pace, he had a long way to go and he couldn't risk shifting to his hybrid form as he was in a populated area. As he walked, his thoughts turned to Celes. He wondered how she was doing and if he would ever see her again. He sighed again as it wasn't likely that he would ever find her. Once a person went into the 'system', they were almost impossible to find.


Ranma sat down in his seat. He was glad that Sir Integra was allowing him to use the Hellsing Family account. He looked around the plane he was in. First class had its advantages; one of them was comfy seats. He had decided to head to France first, see the sights, and then move on.

As Ranma relaxed, he never saw a very tall man get onboard. The man's name was Anderson and he was on a mission for God. He was tracking an unholy beast and had lost track of it in the airport. He knew that it was on this plane, but he didn't know where. Instead of risking the deaths of innocents, he would wait until the plane got to its destination and then he would kill the beast. He was glad that Iscariot was paying for his flight. He never had enough room to stretch his legs in coach. He took his seat across the aisle from a young man. He rubbed his eyes and let out a small yawn. He hadn't slept in two days, going straight from one assignment to another. He looked around for a pillow. If he was going to wait until later, he might as well be refreshed. He let out an annoyed sigh as he couldn't find a pillow.

"Excuse me, lad, but could you hand me a pillow?" he asked the boy across the aisle.

Ranma took a second to translate the thick accent before reaching up and grabbing a pillow. "Here ya go."

As Anderson grabbed the pillow, his hand brushed Ranma's hand and Anderson knew instantly that this was the beast he was looking for.

"Unholy beast, I will destroy you!" he shouted as he pulled out a sword and slashed at Ranma.

Ranma leaped out of his seat and flipped over the mad Scotsman's head, landing down the aisle. "Are you insane? What the hell do you think you are doing?" he shouted as Anderson pulled out another sword from…somewhere.

"I am the Paladin Anderson and it is my holy duty to rid the world of you creatures of the night," the priest said dramatically as he stalked forward. "You cannot win, beast!"

"You…are nuts," Ranma said as he dodged a knife that Anderson threw at him. Behind them, the other passengers fled the plane in terror. Ranma didn't have the chance to say anything else as Anderson charged him and started slashing at him with his swords.

Ranma bobbed and weaved around Anderson's strikes, some missing him by mere centimeters. Anderson didn't seem to care that he was destroying the plane in his attempt to destroy Ranma. Missed slashes would take out walls, seats, even the floor.

Ranma finally had enough after about five minutes of this, and he picked up a seat and threw it at Anderson. The priest merely slashed it in half and the pieces fell to the ground. Ranma used that time to try and run down the aisle and get some room, but Anderson would give him that time. He threw a couple of swords at Ranma.

"Oh, shit!" Ranma yelled as the swords burst apart and became twenty little daggers. He summoned his sword and tried to deflect as many as he could, but some got past his defenses. He flipped to the side and avoided the next round of daggers Anderson sent his way, landing with one foot on an armrest and the other on the back of a seat. He took a look down at his shirt and noted that it was shredded to pieces. He looked at Anderson with murder in his eyes.

"This was my favorite shirt," he growled as he tore the remains off and jumped into the aisle and took a stance. "Come meet your fate, priest!"

Anderson smiled and charged forward, leading with a right overhead slash. Ranma parried it and blocked the follow up cut with the left sword. He spun, adding power to his next attack. Anderson blocked his slash, but only barely. It continued like this for several minutes, neither one getting the upper hand. Ranma started channeling his ki and a white glow formed around him. His arms blurred in a burst of speed and Anderson was turned into a bloody mess. Ranma bowed his head in respect for a good swordsman and went to retrieve his backpack. However, before he got halfway to where his backpack was, a sword pierced his left shoulder. He whirled around to find Anderson standing there with a smirk on his face.

"You should never turn your back to an enemy, lad," he told Ranma, pulling another sword out.

"You're a Regenerator!" exclaimed Ranma in surprise.

"Aye, laddy. It is a gift from the Almighty in order to combat the forces of evil," Anderson told him while advancing forward. "Evil, such as yourself."

"You've got to be kidding me," Ranma resisted the urge to slam his head against the wall. "I fight evil, not the other way around."

"You are one of the creatures of the dark, so you must die!" Anderson said before attacking again.

Anderson seemed to fight with more force this time and Ranma was kept on the defensive. Ranma flipped backwards and was finally able to pull the blade out of his shoulder. He tossed it back at Anderson, who deflected it easily. What neither of them realized was that it flew out the door and severed a nearby fuel line.


"Okay, now I'm pissed!" Ranma shouted after receiving a nasty cut to the stomach. He shifted to his hybrid form and pulled out his whip in his other hand. Anderson's eyes widened as ten feet of feline fury bore down on him with both sword and whip. This time it was him who was on the defensive, but the wounds that Ranma inflicted healed almost instantly. It was a stalemate between them, but Ranma had enough of this. He used his whip to grab Anderson's arms and threw him off balance, at the same time he reversed his grip on his sword. His next slash neatly severed Anderson's head and Ranma wasted no time in grabbing his backpack and jumping out the door. As he landed, he noticed all the fuel and saw that the hose was still attached to the plane. He fired off a small ki bolt that ignited the fuel and took off. Ranma started running as he didn't want to be anywhere nearby when it went off. Anderson stumbled to the door just in time to see Ranma disappear over the hill.

"I'll find you again, and next time you will die!" he shouted at Ranma. Just then he saw the flames enter the fuel tank. "Oh, shi…"

Ranma could see the explosion from his spot on a hill five miles away. He sighed and shook his head, wondering if the gods hated him.

"Oh well, better try another airport."


Ranma spent the next few weeks in Israel, learning all he could about its history and anything else he could. After he got bored, he headed south to Egypt where he joined an archeologist team who needed a strong back and a good mind. Ranma had always had a fascination about Egyptian culture and history, in fact Walter had hired someone to teach Ranma how to read, write, and speak ancient Egyptian. Ranma was well versed in Egyptian history and culture, so when the team found a buried tomb, he was one of the first to go and search it.


Ranma looked around in the faint light given off by his torch. There was a goldmine of information, but it was all conflicting. One set of hieroglyphs said that this was the burial chamber of a Pharaoh, another said that it was of a High Priestess of Bast, while yet another said that it was a high ranking General. While he left the others to figure out what this all meant, Ranma decided to explore. He had just entered a hallway when the way behind him was sealed shut with a huge stone slab. Ranma thought about blasting his way out, but quickly decided against it because he didn't want to risk a cave-in.

"Only one thing to do," he said to himself as he walked into the unknown. As he walked down the hall, he got the feeling that he was being watched, but put it aside as him being paranoid. He saw an end to the hallway and walked a little faster.

When he came out of the hall way, his mouth dropped at what he saw. He was in a giant hall, with murals adorning the walls. Ranma walked over to one of the murals and almost dropped his torch. This was a hidden temple to the cat goddess Bast, and these murals told of an item of great power that was guarded here. He tried to read what was written higher up, but the torchlight didn't reach up there. Ranma shrugged and flared his aura, bathing the areas around him with white light.

"There, much better," he said as he could now see higher up.

Ranma tried to find out what this item was, but there was no mention of what it actually was. He decided to check the other murals, but they were all the same, speaking of this item of great power and praising the goddess Bast. He sighed and drew his aura in, but flared it back out when it got too dark to see. He looked at his torch and saw that it had gone out. He dropped the torch holder and continued walking with his aura going full blast. He walked for a while before he saw something new, a raised platform in the center of the room with am alter on it.

He approached cautiously and when nothing happened, he walked up the steppes. As soon as his foot touched the first step, four torches burst into flames. Ranma looked around, but he didn't see anyone or anything else in the room. He walked slowly to the alter and found a sword resting on a holder. It looked to be a broadsword, sheathed in a black scabbard. The hilt was black with red lines and the scabbard had what looked like runes running up the sides. Ranma knew that they weren't hieroglyphs, but he couldn't figure out what they were.

Ranma's hand reached out, as if it had a mind of its own, and grabbed the sword and picked it up. He grabbed the hilt with his right hand and pulled the sword out a little, revealing the blade. The blade was made out of a golden metal that wasn't gold, Ranma could tell that much, but what type of metal it was Ranma didn't know. When he pulled the blade free of its scabbard, he disappeared in a flash of white light.


Okay, short chapter, but I wanted to get something new out. I've been spending a lot of time on my two S.I. stories, which I hope you all will read and review, but I had to completely rewrite this chapter because I lost the first draft when my computer broke. It's a lot shorter than the first one too. The first one was a lot better as well. Oh well, lesson learned. I now back up all my stories onto cd's.

Love it? Hate it? Please review. Flames will be used to light my incense. (Sandalwood)