A/N: I hope none of you have forgotten about the Greed story arc! First begun in Chapter 31 and continued in Chapter 38, this trilogy of chapters was written by Henry, an avid fan of IAYS. I'm delighted with the story he's developed (receiving fanfiction based off of my own fanfiction is rather flattering) and I've been more than happy to include it in the fic. After many chapters in-between, the conclusion to the Greed side story is finally here. Enjoy!
Greed's right arm began to twitch, and he immediately reached his left hand over to grasp his wrist, holding tightly.
Keep it together. He waited a few moments for the spasms to pass and for the pain to finally venture out of his mind, even if his discomfort was growing.
I'm running out of energy. This host cannot contain my essence anymore.
Greed dropped to a knee and called for his superiors. Heeding his call from across the plane of existence that separated them from reality, they manifested around him instantaneously.
"Report, Greed," instructed the tallest and most well built of the six looking down upon him.
"There isn't sufficient power to draw the rest of you here yet, and I have to admit I'm vulnerable," Greed said, head bowed low. "You will need a host if you want to influence the mortals, but that would require us to exert much of our energy; we could lose all ability to reconstitute ourselves."
"Perhaps, but we will never cease to exist," a buxom female noted. "And even in a mortal state we will be more powerful than Zasalamel or the Azure Knight."
"That's not what concerns me," Greed chimed in. "Both of those two are single minded enough that we can subdue them. Schtauffen is my concern; so long as he retains his sanity, his possessiveness can be overridden by guilt."
"Siegfried Schtauffen?" the tall one demanded. "Still you've failed to deal with him?"
"He has proven far more resilient than I'd ever anticipated," Greed answered. "I expected that each tragedy would bring him further into my grasp, but with his comrades supporting him, he's managed to avoid that fate. Even the loss of his little concubine hasn't been enough to deter him."
"This is your problem, Greed," the tall one pointed out. "Deal with it before you enlist one of us."
"No," the curvaceous female disagreed. "Let me assist him. If Schtauffen's covetousness cannot be tempted, we must target his libido."
"I have a host for you, if you wish it," Greed agreed, reaching into the ground and pulling up his prize, a bloody gash running along her throat. "Her name is Miser, foolishly spared by Taki the nukenin."
"Better than nothing," she surmised, fading from the council and sinking her essence into Miser's body. The red haired woman convulsed, her single eye turning deep black as the sin welled within her, consuming her spirit and contorting it to her whim.
The woman who had once been Miser sat up, examining the blade and large shuriken strapped to her back. She examined her fingers and reached up to feel her face, grimacing.
"Only one working eye, malnourished, and suffering from a throat wound," she noted. "A weak body indeed."
"Can you still transform at will?" Greed asked.
Miser's hair turned from red to deepest black. Her single eye traversed every spectrum, and her skin changed tone effortlessly. "I'll need time to work on the attire, but I should be able to change my body shape whenever it's called for."
"Then I'm glad to work with you again, Lust," Greed said approvingly. "I'll take you to the boy."
"And his compatriots," Miser agreed. "Siegfried Schtauffen isn't the only one I intend to seduce."
---
Nightmare had spoken no words to Tira upon her return to him. Speech was not required to infer that she had returned empty-handed, as she was not presenting him with the Soul Embrace, a suitable host body, or Siegfried's head. However, she bowed deeply and offered forth a few shards that she had scavenged, presumably as penance for her failure to bring him something of greater value. Nightmare took the shards and added them to Soul Edge, and then continued to travel in the direction he had been going without speaking a word to her. There was no reason to be disappointed in her or satisfied with her; she was incidental to him, similar to the winged creatures that scoured the world on his behalf; if they provided him with some form of benefit, so be it. If they proved to be useless, they were not a loss, as they had cost him nothing to begin with. This servant of his, while she had failed to retrieve what he had sent her to obtain, was still capable of delivering him souls and shards. He would not kill what could bring him an advantage. That alone kept Nightmare from adding Tira's soul to his blade...for the time being. He issued no commands to her, and the shame that Tira's failure had brought her caused her to be silent. She merely followed Nightmare in silence, assisting him in harvesting souls wherever he slaughtered.
Tira had grown used to 'forced marching' while traveling with Siegfried and their comrades, but Nightmare's daily trudges were even more strenuous. Nightmare did not 'tire' in the strictest sense, as he had no true body to expend energy with, and no muscles to stretch and strain. He marched ever on, generally in total silence. Tira followed him, and found his slow-paced stride to be her only small mercy – it was the only way she could keep up with him, especially late into the day. On some days, the only chance for her to rest was while Nightmare was slaughtering some hamlet. The screams and cries of defenseless peasants were shrill and deafening, but at least the sounds reminded her of simpler times; times when all she had to do was listen and obey, listen and obey. With dark-circled eyes she kept her gaze fixed upon her Master, ever waiting for a command as he slew the doomed townsfolk around him, growing stronger with every life he took. He had become very powerful, and soon he would test his strength against Siegfried...
The thought turned Tira's stomach. When she saw Siegfried again, and would have to either kill him herself or just watch him die. Either way, she would lose the only man she had ever loved. There was no other option; she could not return to him, and she could not defy Nightmare, her Master, and the most fearsome and terrifying force she had ever beheld. To betray him would incur his wrath and ensure her own death. Even if she wanted to flee from his command, she could not; all who encounter Nightmare are forever bound to him by fate, destined to be swallowed by his sword. To continue to serve him was the only way she could guarantee that he would not add her soul to his blade; and even then, he might simply change his mind and consume her at any time.
While the thought of making the ultimate sacrifice to serve Nightmare's will was exhilarating to Tira, the thought of death was horrifying, even if it was a death in service to her Master. She tried to shut out those thoughts, tried to ignore her destiny...but the longer she traveled with Nightmare, the more she felt as though a sword perpetually dangled above her head, held by a single string.
Tira closed her eyes, trying to fall asleep amidst all the bloodshed and chaos erupting around her. Tried to shut out the sounds of what could eventually become her fate. Tried and failed not to think thoughts of disloyalty. Tried and failed not to regret choosing Nightmare as her Master. Tried and failed not to wish for Siegfried's embrace.
---
Siegfried gazed at the mountain range not far beyond him, and saw the streams and waterfalls running along it. He had never before considered whether the rivers of the world followed a single current that converged upon a single point, and had never imagined that his journey would one day lead him to that point. He had risked life and limb across countless treacherous environments, and was relieved that for once his destination was a place of peace. Siegfried knew little about the Lost Cathedral and even less about what to expect from it, but from what he had heard, it was as good a place as any to try and purify the Soul Embrace.
They were racing against time; Zasalamel could interfere with their journey at any time, and Tira's recent appearance in Athens was proof that Nightmare was actively working against them. Though Seong Mi-na, Cassandra, and Setsuka had left their ranks, they had never been better equipped. They had met many souls along their journey, most of them their foes, but some of them their allies. They had not seen the two easterners Kilik and Xianghua for many months, but there was still hope that they would encounter them again, or receive support from them in some way. Nevertheless, Siegfried and company were moving quickly, and not relying on help from others. They simply carried with them an increased fortification for their camp, and kept their weapons in top shape.
Sophitia had begun caring for their weaponry, keeping each blade as clean and sharp as she could, emulating the techniques of her blacksmith husband. She had scarcely spoken a word since her ordeal in the Labyrinth, and had become cold and distant where she was once the one whom gave the others warmth and strength. The rest of the group was concerned for her and their curiosity about her ordeal grew by the day. She was the only one of them who had fallen prey to the remnants of the Evil Seed; had she been bewitched by Soul Edge, or had she willingly submitted to it? Now was not the time for suspicion and distrust...nor was it the time to have their journey compromised by a turncoat. The others kept their tongues still to avoid fostering strife between them and Sophitia, but their suspicion began to foster a sense of paranoia toward her.
Taki hadn't slept for days, obsessively insisting that she take the night watch duty. She had become increasingly vigilant since her tangle with Zasalamel, and almost fanatically determined to destroy him whenever he next appeared. It seemed that she didn't trust anyone to stop him but herself, and refused to allow anyone else have the responsibility of guarding their lives. The others found it to be slightly insulting that Taki did not believe them to be as capable as herself, but at the same time they acknowledged that she was their greatest asset.
Ivy remained fairly isolated from the others, devoting what little spare time she had to her studies. She had added new weapons to her arsenal along with the Valentine, with what limited alchemy she could perform. She was already able to separate the myriad pieces of her sword and reconnect them at will, and had begun taking the same approach to additional atoms in the air around her, to increase the strength of each attack by heightening its speed or the density of the air. Her decision to remain among them was somewhat perplexing to the others, considering how little she actually interacted with them. Even in closer quarters with fewer comrades to manage, Ivy remained lost in her self-imposed isolation.
Amy barely spoke a word. Sophitia tended to her needs, and she sparred with Ivy for training; there was little else to be said about her. She was a rapidly becoming capable combatant, and less dependent on the others as well.
Their once nightly fire had been drastically toned down, as they didn't want to leave anything for Tira to track in case their former ally was still searching for them. The ashes were interspersed with dirt, the remains of wood destroyed and scattered in forests. Their meals no longer consisted of meats of any kind, only fruits and vegetables and breads that could be entirely consumed without leaving evidence. Nightmare's flying servants could certainly track them anyway, but any delays on their part could be the difference between making it to the Lost Cathedral or losing Soul Embrace.
Siegfried still laid out his tent in the same manner, with room for himself and for Tira, even if she was long gone. The empty ground beside him was a constant reminder of that failure, that personal shame. He lay there each night, occasionally taking Ivy in Tira's place. They were not ashamed of appeasing each other's desires, knowing each day could very easily be their last.
Perhaps it was with that in mind Ivy stepped into his tent in the dead of night. She was quiet, almost sardonically so. Though he generally expected to hear witty remarks from her, Ivy didn't need to provide a reason why she was there. He knew that she intended to make use of him, and she knew that he would comply, and nothing needed to be said.
One might've thought that overexposure to so many beautiful bodies would dull Siegfried's interest, and lessen the appeal to him. Yet Ivy's tantalizing form remained a constant object of his desire, as it had been the night he'd met her. The night she'd fought Tira in the arena. The night she'd seduced him, the first time he'd willingly allowed himself to be used so he could curb his lust. And the many times after that when he'd taken her, unable to resist her form.
As he took her in his tent, enjoying the pleasure her body wrought, Siegfried's thoughts drifted, as they always had when he engaged in coitus. He knew the pleasure he'd receive and the eventual release would quell such troublesome thoughts, so he waited them out as he continued his thrust.
If we finally end the threat of Soul Edge, my comrades and I will separate, and return to our lives. If I am successful in my task, will I ever see this woman again? Verily, that accursed sword is the only thing that has bound us together.
Our lives have become so completely defined by that cursed blade. We've spent years interconnected by it, even if we didn't know it at the time. I took that sword from the cold dead hand of this woman's father. I travel with the two women who personally battled him before I even got there. Thanks to the sword, we have become comrades, and occasionally, lovers. We all fight against the sword, the very thing that brought us all together in the first place. Its destruction will sever that bond and end the relationships between us.
And when that happens, I'll never do this again with any of them. Sophitia has her husband, and Ivy and Taki show no interest in love or progeny. They'll devote themselves to their crafts, to their ambitions...but not to me. When all of this comes to an end, I'll be alone again.
Ivy's hands roamed over the muscles of his back. Her nails breached his skin, adding fresh cuts to the numerous scars already marring him. He didn't mind the pricks of pain, as his introspection had dulled him to it, and dulled the pleasure as well.
There was only one woman who was ever devoted to me, who would have stayed by my side no matter what.
Images of Tira flashed through his mind. When he'd met her on the raft passing through Ostrheinsburg, when she'd landed before him and declared how happy she was to finally find a Master she could pledge herself to.
How happy he'd felt, with Tira. Not only for the pleasure of her form, but the pleasure of her company and the sight of her smile.
Or had he just manufactured that joy, knowing she'd appease his every desire for so little effort on her part? Would he have cared for her as much as he had without her offering herself to him so readily?
Would he have ever wished to leave her side had he not agreed to Ivy's proposal that night?
As he looked at Miss Valentine writhing beneath him, Siegfried could see what drew him too her. She was beautiful, and she was strong enough to keep up with him. Their bodies were very compatible at night, as well.
Yet, during the day, he did not feel much affection for her. Ivy hardly merited it, with her cruel remarks and her dismissals of etiquette and social convention, and her constant insistence that she work alone. Perhaps that desire for isolation and that avoidance of social norms drew him to her more than that beautiful body. Her sharp mind had probably helped them more than he could remember, but her arrogance had led to several difficult situations that could've been avoided altogether if Siegfried had kept a closer eye on her.
And, of course, Ivy didn't like him, really. She didn't like anyone.
And Tira...Tira she'd hated above everyone else. Ivy had made every effort to alienate Tira, to remind the girl of her status as slave, to diminish Tira's every success and dismiss Tira's contribution. Though Tira and Ivy cooperated for the sake of their mission together, Tira had retained a deep dislike for Ivy, and had always withheld it for her Master's sake.
In that moment, in that aftermath following their release, Siegfried found no comfort...whatever pleasure he'd felt had been washed away by those memories. He felt warm, and he felt his body connected to Ivy's, and he returned to the present, albeit with thoughts weighing heavily on his mind.
Ivy had no desire to share parting words. She would enjoy the moment, but nothing more, and began preparing herself to leave as soon as their act was finished. As she dressed herself, Siegfried adjusted to a sitting position, head downcast.
"It's your fault." He whispered.
Ivy, halfway dressed, tilted her head toward the man. "Did you say something, Siegfried?"
"Isabella...everything that has happened so far is your fault." Siegfried said.
It wasn't quite rational. It wasn't a complete thought, and he hadn't stopped to scrutinize it. Saying those words made him feel better, and that was the only motivation he required.
Ivy glared at him as she clothed herself. "You didn't seem so angry before we got started, Siegfried. Very classy of you to mention a qualm with me afterwards..."
Siegfried pulled his covers tightly around himself and turned away from the woman. Very quietly, he uttered two simple words: "Get out."
Ivy glared resolutely at the back of Siegfried's head and finished dressing herself quickly, exiting without another word. It wasn't unusual for her to leave without parting words, but for once Siegfried had removed her of his own accord.
It felt good to be rid of her. Whatever pleasure she brought him, she counterbalanced with some annoyance, some pettiness. Siegfried felt much better having both made use of her body and subsequently thrown her out, even if it was rude.
He fell asleep, and hoped he wouldn't dream.
---
The monstrosity known as Necrid charged across the landscape without tiring, driven by the desire to possess Soul Edge once more. He held only a single fragment, and he'd so wished to integrate the blade into himself that he'd grafted the small metal shard into his chest, behind a metal armor plate. His search had been fruitless thus far for the remaining pieces, and his inarticulate nature had generally led to him slaughtering people in his way. He also occasionally slaughtered whomsoever might conceivably be in his way at some unspecified point in the future.
Necrid's exposure to Soul Edge had left him sensitive to evil energy, and he moved in pursuit of the greatest source of it. Assuredly that massive aura he sensed in the distance could only belong to Soul Edge itself.
Floating above him, monitoring his progress, sat Zasalamel, drifting effortlessly through the clouds, concealing all of his own power from Necrid. As he watched, Zasalamel admired the creature, and the uncontrollable power it possessed.
Though, that was no surprise...when Zasalamel had battled the creature, he came to a realization. Zasalamel's memories of his many past lives had become dim with time, but the memories of his first attempt to control Soul Edge were vivid; he distinctly remembered how it had overwhelmed him, consumed him, altered him, transformed him into a monster.
That monster had died long ago...yet its flesh moved on, driven by the desire for Soul Edge. While Zasalamel had been reborn in a new body, his ancient deceased body had continued on, unstoppable, permanently twisted by Soul Edge's power.
Zasalamel saw it so clearly now; that old body from eons past had become this creature, a vessel of flesh that somehow moved without a soul. Zasalamel had taken to studying Necrid when not keeping tabs on Siegfried, and fully expected Necrid to interfere in Siegfried's quest.
Necrid would have to be disposed of at some point, Zasalamel rationalized, but he could wait until the beast's Soul Edge shard had been reintegrated. Zasalamel's own shards would go along with it, and combined with Taki's purified shards would retain the balance he needed. With the two swords in harmony he could perform his ritual, as he needed the powers of both readily available...it would be only too easy to be consumed by Soul Edge again without its foil to balance the weight.
However, as he watched Necrid advance, Zasalamel was growing concerned. Necrid was not heading in the direction of the Soul Embrace, but rather of Nightmare, the very will of Soul Edge that Zasalamel had personally reanimated.
Nightmare...no other entity concerned Zasalamel as much in this multi-pronged conflict. Though vulnerable and unable to sustain himself without a stream of souls, Nightmare had proven remarkably adaptable, and his power increased dramatically very quickly, even without a host to bind his incomplete soul to. Though predictable and single minded, the will of Soul Edge would not be denied. It would reclaim its host and reconstruct itself or it would cease to exist, and Zasalamel could not allow for either outcome.
When Nightmare had first demonstrated his renewed power, it had pleased Zasalamel to the point he'd actually smiled, even as baneful energy tore at his skin. He had set all the players in place, and Nightmare was strong enough to fight Siegfried to a standstill.
Yet now Nightmare's power was growing out of control. Though still not strong enough to decisively defeat Siegfried, Nightmare could easily overwhelm the fragile state of the Soul Embrace and create a more powerful, unified Soul Edge. It would take him mere moments.
Perhaps, Zasalamel thought, as Necrid bounded towards the Azure Knight, his old host body would be better suited to this battle. Zasalamel had no interest in sullying his own hands, so he waited for their paths to cross, and waited to see a new, unexpected enemy emerge to battle Siegfried in Nightmare's stead. Though, of course, if Nightmare were victorious...
He preferred not to think about that. Even if that body was no longer his, it would remind Zasalamel only too well that he had real competition in his plan to release the power of the swords onto himself. Nightmare's power could grow further, and overwhelm those around him. It was already beginning to affect Siegfried's old servant girl, and would've spread to Amy by now had it not been for Talim's efforts.
Yet, Zasalamel was optimistic. Either way, Necrid or Nightmare would only be able to play a hand after everything had gone to Zasalamel's plan. The single, glorious moment to come within a few days had been centuries in the making; the suffering of these simple, transient entities and the inevitable conflict awaiting them were small prices to pay for the fruition of this scheme.
That conflict alone would be the only thing capable of allowing Zasalamel time to complete his ritual and bring about the end he so desperately sought...
---
Greed and the new Lust stepped towards Siegfried's camp in the dead of night, traversing through shadows amongst the tents and passing undetected by Taki or Sophitia, the evening's sentries. Each would be approached in due time, but they had to be careful, or risk waking Ivy or especially Siegfried, the real threat to their plan.
"I'll keep the Japanese girl distracted," Greed offered. "I assume you can handle the Athenian?"
"With ease," the woman who had been Miser purred. Greed moved away from her, and stalked towards Seong Mi-na, allowing Lust to channel her powers alone in the darkness, spreading the shadows towards an unsuspecting Sophitia, as she looked out at the plains and mountains beyond their campsite, lost in thought.
She thought of her home, as always. Her visit to Athens had brought an end to months of worrying about Rothion, but with Patroklos and Pyrrha dragged back into this struggle, she felt as though she had failed them. She had undertaken this journey solely so she could protect her children, and confront the evil forces pursuing Soul Edge. She already bore wounds from her first battle with the evil blade, and she had been determined never to allow such harm to come to her son and daughter – yet they had fallen into Tira's clutches in her absence.
"Ah, so much pain in your past and present alike..."
Sophitia drew her sword, the blade brushing the neck of a red-haired woman in a shawl, a katana and shuriken strapped to her back.
"Who are you?" the Athenian woman demanded.
The red-haired woman smiled. "All that you covet, and all that you wish could be true..." She grasped the blade with her right hand, and instantaneously vanished, the area around Sophitia cast in impenetrable shadows. She moved her sword and shield about, trying to find a target.
"I can detect your uncertainty, your imprecision..." she continued from somewhere in the dark. "Your thoughts are drifting so wildly, and your tension is rising. You're getting sloppy. Vulnerable."
"Show yourself!" Sophitia demanded.
"As you wish," and from that formless darkness appeared not a woman, but the strong build of her husband, so beautifully built and tanned.
"What are you – " she began, but could not finish, as Siegfried stepped to Rothion's side. Each disrobed, revealing their fit forms to her.
"You don't have to make the choice, or be burdened by your indecision," Siegfried told her.
"You can have your passion, and enjoy it without reserve," Rothion added.
"There doesn't have to be anything more to this than your wants and needs," Siegfried continued. "No battle for the Soul Edge, no fight for your children."
Siegfried embraced her, and Sophitia's shield and sword dropped to the ground.
"No mention of the past," Rothion added, his mouth moving along her neck. "Nothing but this moment, and this feeling."
Sophitia had already lost. And she didn't care that she had, with these sweet promises and the strong bodies to back them up.
---
Ivy was still awake after being unceremoniously dismissed from Siegfried's tent. She had resumed her study, and she was in the process of weighing the Valentine against metal fragments of the same size and approximate density, trying to even out the influence of Soul Edge fragments in each individual piece of her blade. She consulted her notes on iron impurities within Soul Edge and to what degree that made her blade heavier.
At least, that was what she was up to until she heard the clanging of metal, and definitely not the ones she was examining. Ivy reformed the Valentine and stepped outside her tent, only to dodge just in time to avoid being hit by Taki as she skidded backwards.
"Greed," Ivy muttered at the sight of their assailant, remembering him only too well. "Back to trick us again?"
"Oh, no, I have a far simpler objective," Greed replied, smiling his toothless smile. "I've come for Soul Embrace at last. No need to force you to fight anyone else, when you've already lost half your force by your own hand."
Taki began to preparing a spirit-based attack, and Ivy moved to take her place to battle Greed. They were both so focused on their adversary that neither noticed Sophitia lying on the ground nearby in an apparently catatonic state, drooling a bit from her mouth, eyes glazed over in evident joy.
Ivy's sword clanged between the two prongs of Void as Greed casually spun the Austere in his free hand.
"You aren't telling the truth," Ivy told him. "You aren't a single-minded entity like Nightmare. You must have a plan."
"Have you no ears?" Greed asked. "I came for Soul Embrace. My associate, however..."
Greed stepped aside as a shadow appeared in the ground before Ivy, and from it emerged a red-haired woman, grinning at her.
"A different tactic for this one," the new adversary noted. Ivy swung out with the Valentine but struck only empty air, as all light around her was suddenly extinguished, replaced by shadows. Ivy whirled to and fro in the dark, searching for a target. "You don't love anyone but yourself, am I correct, Isabella Valentine?"
"Certainly not far off the mark," Ivy agreed, "but I'd prefer that these people stay alive."
"Oh, I'm not here to harm anyone," the woman replied from somewhere in the shapeless void. "I came to alleviate your tension and dismiss your woes."
"Luring us into a false sense of security?" Ivy asked.
"Oh, no. I just think you'd rather die in passion and joy, rather than on the sword of one of your enemies," she answered. "Or perhaps a sword is what you want after all…"
Siegfried stepped forward, fully nude. Ivy attacked him instinctively, and cut into him. He vanished almost as quickly.
"Ah, so you don't like the Azure Knight enough to stay your hand?"
"Not when it's clearly illusion," Ivy spat. "Do you really think me so weak?"
"Yes," she answered simply. "As you'll soon realize."
The Soul Embrace lifted up from the darkened floor, pulsating. The energy of Soul Edge was spreading outwards with baneful light, overcoming the will of Soul Calibur. Instinctively, Ivy reached forward to do something, hand stopping just shy of the blade's hilt.
"We all want something, Isabella Valentine," the woman told her. "Or have you forgotten how much you wanted to do this?"
Ivy felt hands grasp her own and push her forward. She looked over her shoulder and saw...herself, driving her hand forward, smiling her own familiar cruel smile.
"No," Ivy protested, struggling. This facsimile of herself continued to push forward, her hands reaching towards the pulsating weapon.
"Which will you take? Which destiny will you seize?" this apparition asked, speaking clearly with Ivy's own voice.
"I will take neither!" Ivy responded flatly. "This weapon must be purified and destroyed."
"Who are you intending to fool?" the facsimile Ivy demanded. "You want that power. It courses through you. It is a part of you. It is your origin. It is your destiny. You rebelled against your father, but deep down inside of you, you want to return to Soul Edge, the foundation of your being!"
"Lies!" Ivy replied, shaking her head. "This isn't what I want – "
"It's the only thing you want."
Her hands were pressed forward, closer...ever closer...
---
Lust stepped away from Ivy and casually sidestepped as Greed skidded back after receiving one of the nukenin's kicks, and took her partner's place. Taki did not relax her guard, though surprise briefly passed over her face.
"Miser?" she asked.
"No, not anymore," Lust replied. "But it seems we have you to thank for sparing this woman and providing me a vessel."
"You're working for Greed now?" Taki demanded. "What have you done to my comrades?"
"I have allowed them to feel their last joys, each in their own special ways," Lust replied. "Just as I'm about to offer you."
Things went dark. Taki moved to attack, but her foe had vanished, surrounding Taki in shadows.
"You are a lot harder to read, but you do have desires of your own, far beneath the pristine surface," Lust observed. From the darkness emerged several towering demons, wielding claw and blade alike in pursuit of Taki.
She leapt back, drawing her purification arts, from scrolls to sutras, and began the appropriate hand motions and incantations where applicable. However, as the demons drew nearer, all the seals Taki erected vanished before her eyes, ineffective.
"You desire the thrill of combat," Lust observed, immaterial. "You seek that simple release, that rush...the feeling of victory and triumph at the end."
"Lies," Taki replied, avoiding one of her assailants and slashing its back, to little avail.
"Your own heart cannot lie to you," Lust explained. "You've steeled it well, but cracks do appear. You need this combat, this proof of your strength and fortitude. It's the only thing that prevents you from realizing how alone you are."
Taki leapt onto one of the beast's backs and slashed into its dark flesh, but saw no visible change. She may as well have attacked stone with her bare fists.
"Or is it simply that you wish to slip up?" Lust asked. "And let others see you are not invincible?" The demons vanished, and Taki fell to the ground in a heap, as her comrades appeared in a semicircle around her, looking down. "You wish there wasn't so much weight on your shoulders. You wish you could ease your burden and share it with the others. You wish that the others knew that you are vulnerable. Human."
They offered their hands to her. None showed any disdain or disappointment, only the sincere desire to help.
"And perhaps, you'd like to share with them your very human failings," Lust continued. She vanished, and Siegfried took her place, his extending his hand down toward Taki. "Perhaps there is even one of them with whom you would share...everything."
Taki stood on her own, glaring about the darkness.
"In denial, then? So be it," Lust conceded. The demons reappeared in Siegfried's stead. "Then I'll force you to show your hand."
---
Nightmare stopped. Tira was so surprised to see him halt in the middle of a march that she nearly bumped into him, and screeched to a halt only a few inches behind, moving her head to be out of the strands of his red mane.
"Master?" Tira asked.
Nightmare roughly shoved her away, drawing the phantom Soul Edge. As soon as Tira hit the ground she saw why she'd been removed from his way: a beast of a man with red skin, a prominent chestplate and a gray face mask had just tackled Nightmare, and the Azure Knight had blocked the strike with the flat of his sword.
"No soul resides within you." Nightmare stated. "You are of no interest to me."
The beast could not speak in the common tongue. Rather, its communication consisted entirely of hisses and snarls, emotion unreadable behind an inexpressive gray mask. One arm was a three-fingered claw like Nightmare's own grotesque right arm, and beneath the beast's chestplate, imbedded in his very skin sat a shard of Soul Edge. The energy from that shard was mingling with some power coursing through this monstrosity's own body, creating an enormous supply to force the long necrotized flesh to move.
"It appears that you possess something of mine." Nightmare observed. "You have brought something to make me whole again? How kind of you."
Necrid growled and Nightmare threw him off, raising his phantom blade to a parrying position. The red skinned man bounded forward again, and Nightmare sidestepped, driving the blade into the monster's back, forcing him to the ground in one deft move. Nightmare concentrated his power into his fist, and Tira moved further back as the baneful energy coursing through him blasted into Necrid. The red skinned man cried out in pain but quickly righted himself, throwing Nightmare off and sending the Azure Knight to the floor with a sweep of his leg.
Nightmare clamored up and slashed, only for his blade to be caught in Necrid's twisted right arm. The two fighters locked fingers in their free hands, each trying to overpower the other.
"Cease your struggle, fool!" Nightmare instructed, pushing Necrid further back. Necrid and Nightmare locked two pairs of yellow eyes and held that gaze, each finding something familiar in one another's stare. The facsimile of a sword grasped in Necrid's hand had been there before, when it was complete...when it had been strong.
The will of that blade, living on in a suit of armor, was delighted to find such a reliable host again. The power he felt clanging against his own would be added to his own, and he'd be that much closer to restoring himself completely.
Tira looked on, fascinated. Whatever this monster was, its strength was equal to Nightmare's. She might need to intervene.
Would she do the same when Nightmare and Siegfried did battle? Would they be as evenly matched? As vulnerable to a definitive, surprise attack?
High above them, away from their notice, Zasalamel watched, fascinated at the display. While it was undeniable that Necrid possessed only a mere fraction of Zasalamel's power, Nightmare's ability to hold his own was impressive.
Magnificent as it was to behold, Zasalamel couldn't help but feel concerned about the outcome...about what would happen when either one emerged triumphant.
And what role would the servant girl play?
He was patient. He didn't care what became of his old body, as it was nothing but a hollow construct.
Just like Nightmare.
Regardless of the victory, he would be first to know who had triumphed, and he would respond accordingly.
---
Siegfried had slept well. The afterglow of passion offered him some sanctuary from his memories and shame, and had eased him into slumber – but that slumber was interrupted by the sounds of combat. Knowing better than to emerge from his tent unshielded, he quickly affixed some of his armor before emerging from his tent, Zweihänder in hand. He saw Sophitia first, prone on the ground, eyes wide, mouth open with a single bead of drool running down her chin. Her weapons were discarded, her clothing loosened. Ivy and Taki were not far away – the former was on her knees, reaching towards something, her eyes glazed over, while the latter was moving rapidly, slashing at the air around her.
It was evident that the women were somehow bewitched, but Siegfried could not determine who to help first, or how. He heard a sound behind him, as though something had dropped down. He drew the Requiem at once, but stopped when he saw whom it was that had landed behind him.
It was a girl, about 17 years old. Her hair was blue, her eyes purple, and her skin partially covered by green clothes and a few feathers. A large circular blade was strapped to her back.
She couldn't be responsible for the state of his comrades. She would have just killed them. Another force was at work here. Whatever it was, Siegfried didn't know how he was going to handle both saving his comrades and dealing with Tira as well.
"Oh, Master!" she cried out suddenly, her expression dreamy. "I've been waiting for this day! The day when I can finally introduce myself to you!"
He remembered those words.
"As of this moment..." She kneeled down. "...I open the most sacred depths of my heart and accept your will into myself, Master!"
He recalled his confusion. He'd been so unsure how to react, what to think. He had been overcome by this girl who had used nothing more than her words to disarm him.
To seduce him...
"Master, isn't it obvious?" the girl asked. "I am giving myself to you!"
From that moment forward, she had him wound around her finger. Though she claimed to be the willing slave, it was he, Siegfried, who had then been ensnared by her.
He'd taken her to bed, and he'd loved her, and no matter what deeds she'd done before, he didn't care. All that mattered to him was having a source of warmth and comfort for the first time since becoming the Azure Night.
Footsteps behind him. Siegfried turned around and saw Ivy, standing in a beautiful gown.
"Please, come in," she greeted, smiling at him. Though more skin was exposed in her usual battle gear, Ivy's dress exposed a great deal of her ample chest. It was hard to tear his eyes away from her, even when the real Ivy...or what he assumed was the real Ivy...was on the ground only a few yards away.
That dress. She'd willingly torn it asunder just to take him by surprise, all in pursuit of stopping the evil she presumed to be Nightmare. She had repented, even if she retained some of her cruelty.
Sophitia stepped forward, dressed in a loose translucent toga and little else. She leveled her Omega Sword at him, eyes fierce. She had been defending her temple, the sacred edifice of her god Hephaestus...and even in combat, he'd been unable to not admire her.
Cassandra appeared next. And Setsuka. And Taki. And Seong Mi-na.
All their words. All their bodies. All around him.
"Can't choose just one?" Greed asked, leaning on Siegfried's shoulder. "I know the feeling."
Siegfried swung with the Requiem, and Greed was willingly dismembered, casually reattaching his limbs to his joints and his midsection back to his waist. Siegfried prepared to slash again, but stopped as the women drew closer.
They weren't real, yet the hands caressing his neck and face felt real enough. They felt warm. Familiar.
"This is what you want most, Schtauffen," Greed pointed out. "And while I generally hate to lose more than I gain, I can offer you a simple trade."
Siegfried glared at him, even as his resistance slipped away.
"Abandon your journey," Greed instructed. "Forgo everything you have gained, what little you have to show for your efforts. Let the Soul Embrace go, into my hand. I have no wish to unleash it, only to possess it. To add it to my collection."
This is illusion. Lies. He's not human. He can't be trusted.
"My associate Lust will give you your release," Greed assured. "She will give you all that you ever wanted. Your father will live again. Your lovers will exist all for you, only for you. You will finally know peace."
Soul Edge had promised to revive his father, but it had been an immaterial, flimsy illusion. It had been a construct of his own twisted, convergent mind. He had rejected the illusion, placing his blade through the false Sir Frederick, and realized how mad he had become.
But then again, no illusion had ever touched him like this...
"Just give me the Soul Embrace," Greed asked. "I'll keep it from Zasalamel and Nightmare and have it all to myself. You won't have to worry about anything ever again."
Just tell him no. Show him the same face you did last time. Make him retreat and play his game elsewhere.
...Or just let these women covet you forever...
Greed opened his mouth to speak further, but no words escaped him. The thin blade protruding from his mouth and the gargling of blood impeded him somewhat.
The blade withdrew and cut him in two again. Greed was unharmed and already healing, but as he fell, Siegfried saw Amy standing behind him, her rapier – Albion – in hand.
Greed turned to face her. "This one is stubborn as well, I see."
Amy too was subjected to darkness. Siegfried and Greed and the women vanished, as Amy beheld only her papa Raphael, reaching out to her.
She cut him aside without a second's hesitation, and appeared once more in Siegfried's fantasy. Greed was stunned, at last losing his calm exterior.
A red headed woman fell back, a deep gash in her chest. She was piecing herself back together, but not as quickly as Greed. The women around Siegfried seemed to flicker, as though their forms were fading in and out.
Their touch, their warmth vanished for just a single moment, and Siegfried's sense returned to him. He slashed at the women around him, cutting the illusions apart. The red haired woman cried out, and as Greed turned his attention to her, both kunai were knocked from his hands by Amy.
Lust groaned, falling to the ground, bleeding where Siegfried had slashed her apparitions. "Greed," she muttered. "I can't maintain – "
"We have them," Greed told her, moving to her side and away from Amy. "We're mere moments from drawing out the energy needed."
"Greed," Lust said again. "There's nothing for me to draw on..."
"What?" Greed demanded. Again his calm exterior vanished as he turned his attention to the other three women.
---
Taki stopped. She set down her two blades and waited.
"No more struggle?" a demon demanded.
"I cannot push myself any further," Taki responded simply. "I cannot do more than my best. And I know my comrades will carry on."
The beast attacked. Its claw passed right through her.
---
Sophitia moved away from Rothion and Siegfried, stating frankly: "No."
"Sophitia?" Rothion asked.
"No, I can't do this," she said. "I can't have you both. I can't force both of you to love me."
"Sophitia, love can be shared," Siegfried told her. "It doesn't have to be monogamous."
"Yes, it does!" Sophitia snapped back. "I...have to think of my children. I do not want to give them a poor example to follow. Mine might be the only one they'll ever know."
---
Ivy held the Soul Edge of her own free will. Its power coursed within her, energizing her. Its voice was not harsh, but simple and direct...comforting.
She held the very blade she'd been created to wield. With a single strike she could unmake any foe.
And yet...she was not alone in her own mind. A second soul had joined with hers.
She tossed the Soul Edge aside like the unnecessary baggage it was, and returned to her peaceful isolation.
---
All three emerged. Each stood up, and moved to stand beside Siegfried or Ivy, encircling Greed and Lust.
Lust was writhing, her illusions shattered. Her eyes were bleeding, her hair drenched in sweat. Her mouth and nostrils and ears were glowing dark blue, wisps of energy escaping from her.
Greed snarled and then gave a deep cry of frustration as he watched Lust's essence dissipate. It returned to its original form...
Immaterial. Conceptual. Nothing but an idea. A parasitic existence, barely surviving with so little sustenance.
His hands were shaking again. His host was resisting his control.
Siegfried lifted Greed by his vest and held him at eye level. His comrades stood behind Siegfried, weapons leveled. Siegfried did not look pleased, but he wasn't angry. He wouldn't allow Greed the emotions that he coveted. That fueled him.
"Why couldn't you give in?" Greed asked. "Why couldn't you just let go?"
"I allowed myself to be corrupted," Siegfried replied. "And I still am to this day. You don't get to play a part in it anymore."
Greed smirked. "Ever the fool, Schtauffen. Can you really defeat your true nature? Can you stand against Soul Edge with so many sins still within you?"
"I don't know if I can," Siegfried admitted. "But we can." Each of his allies nodded. "And nothing...not even immortals, will stop us."
"Oh, not immortal," Greed replied. "Just...immaterial." Wisps of energy floated out of Greed's mouth as he smiled his toothless smile. "My part in this is over, but when you fail...I will return. When you acknowledge what you are, I will be there to grant you all that you wish for."
"I suppose I shouldn't fail, then," Siegfried responded, dropping Greed. "But it's too late for you to avoid it."
"A poor farce..." Greed observed. He began to laugh, maniacally, before falling silent and slumping in Siegfried's grasp. Siegfried released Greed and he fell to the ground, landing in an unmoving heap as his energy drifted away and dissipated.
Siegfried turned to the red haired girl who'd so easily pierced the illusion. "Thank you, Amy."
She nodded and turned her attention to the horizon, where an orange light signaled the rising sun in the East.
A new dawn – and a very important day.
---
Long after the camp had been taken down and Siegfried and comrades moved on, the man that had once been Greed and the woman known as Miser awoke. They instantly began to battle, with Miser seeking vengeance, and the old man after the contents of her wallet.
Both were disposed of by a Japanese swordsman, passing by on his own journey, seeking an unstoppable sword, albeit unaware it had just passed by in another direction.
---
When midday rolled around, Nightmare let loose a satisfied breath and drove the phantom blade once more into Necrid's back. One final time, the beast writhed before breathing his last and lying still.
"This place shall be your grave," Nightmare observed, as power flowed into him. "You deserve nothing less than destruction."
Necrid could not reply. The energy he'd drawn from Soul Edge was all that allowed him to live. Nightmare removed his blade and lifted the Soul Edge fragment and grafted it into his sword.
He was stronger. Reenergized.
This beast had been very useful, and he'd be only too happy to show Siegfried how much stronger he'd become. There was no doubt he was ready now.
"Come," Nightmare instructed simply. Tira followed him as Nightmare charged ahead, his form growing stronger and moving his heavy armor with ease.
Zasalamel watched from high above, a chill running down his spine for the first time in that particular lifetime.
It had been a likely outcome. Why was it still so surprising?
It didn't matter. Siegfried and Nightmare would destroy each other and he'd pick up the pieces at the end.