Episode Three
An Assassin Intent on Revenge, Will Vyse Infiltrate the DWMA?
A sound soul dwells within a sound mind and a sound body.
"Assassins Rule Number One - Silence: Dissolve in the darkness and erase your breath. Wait for an opening to attack your target."
Vyse was motionless, his breath was tucked deeply away into his lungs as he watched and waited.
"Assassins Rule Number Two - Transpositional Thinking: Analyze the target in order to predict his thoughts and movements."
He had targeted the elder of the Scroll Clan of Assassins. He was master at martial arts, stealth, and one of the most powerful Meisters in the world. Some would say that Vyse had bitten off more than he could chew, but he knew that he had not. This is was one of the moments that he had been waiting for his entire life.
"Assassins Rule Number Three - Speed: Take out the target before the target notices your presence."
Quick as a whisper and silent as a shadow, Vyse struck from above. He had always been taught to take the high ground if at all possible. He transformed his hand into a katar, the deadliest weapon in his arsenal. The elder easily deflected the blow and countered with a punch of his own. It was a low punch, coming upward. Vyse expected this. He had seen the elder fight many times before and was familiar with his every move.
He blocked the punch and prepared, now a follow-up, downward, diagonal chop was coming his way. He fought the urge not to smile when he saw the attack coming. He snatched the elder's wrist and twisted it around as he ducked under his arm, flipping him over. He did not expect the elder to use the momentum to land on his feet, pivot while in a crouch and punch back.
Nonetheless, Vyse was gifted at improvisational combat. He kicked the punch away with one foot and followed up with another. The elder blocked easily and took his stance on his feet. This was not how Vyse planned it. If he could have taken the elder out from the beginning it would have been better. Now he would have to outfight the elder which was no easy feat.
He decided to rely on the advantages that he had against the elder. Though he was by far the more experienced fighter, Vyse was stronger and faster than he was. He transformed his hands into steel knuckles, another weapon in his arsenal that would help him pack a wallop without compromising his speed like the katar would.
He stayed on the offense, wary for any counter attack. The elder was keeping pace, blocking the punches and kicks as they came, seemingly with ease. Vyse knew that it would be a test of endurance when it was said and done so he did not let it discourage him that he could not land a single blow. When the elder retaliated with counterattacks, Vyse saw them coming and dodged, blocked or parried each time. No one was gaining ground.
Vyse once ran for twenty-four hours straight just to prove that he could do it without stopping for food or sleep. He could literally do this all day long. He doubted the elder could manage that feat.
Suddenly, the elder caught Vyse by the leg and in a feat of strength of his own, spun and flung him away, spinning towards the trees. This act of desperation showed Vyse only one thing: he was gaining ground. He was not surprised to see that the elder was holding his ground instead of pursuing as Vyse flipped, kicked off of a tree and propelled himself through the air like a missile at the elder.
Fast as lighting the fight was on again. Vyse decided that swift attacks would be better than strong because it require more motion and blood flow in the body. He transformed his hand into kamas and slashed away. To protect himself from the blades, the elder had to step forward, into his block, leaving him open for an attack. Vyse dropped onto his hands and rotated his body with all his might, legs out and executed a successful sweep.
Like a tiger pouncing on its prey, Vyse was atop the elder, katar pressed gently against his throat. Victory.
"Yield," Vyse said. The elder nodded and Vyse let him up off of the ground.
"Vyse Rosemont, you have passed every trial to become an Assassin, including defeating me. Before I bestow upon you the rank of Master Assassin, I must ask one question of you," the elder said. Vyse took a knee and bowed in respect. Even though he had earned the right to be the elder's equal, he still had the utmost respect for the man who had taught him more than most could hope to learn in a lifetime.
"Anything, Elder," Vyse replied.
"How did you beat me?"
"I have been studying your fighting style and assessing your strength since I was young. I knew this day would come and I have prepared my entire life for it," Vyse replied.
"You are very wise, and you will rank among the greatest of assassins. Rise, Master Assassin Vyse, and come take your place at the council," the elder said, holding out his hand to lead Vyse.
"Elder, I must respectfully decline," Vyse said. The elder gasped. He audibly gasped. It was unnatural because in all his life, Vyse had never seen the elder express surprise about anything.
"You're declining your role as part of the council? Why? You've earned it," the elder asked.
"I have expressed my desires before. Upon completing my studies as an Scroll Clan Assassin, I seek to infiltrate the DWMA in order to take vengeance upon Black Star and Tsubaki," he said resolutely.
"You know that the council vehemently opposes your desires to do this," the elder said.
"I do," Vyse replied.
"And yet this is the path you choose?" the elder asked.
"It is. I will bring honor to my family and clan by getting the revenge that rightfully belongs to us," Vyse said.
"If you take this path, you will go alone. No Meister here is allowed to assist you in your endeavor," the elder replied.
"I understand, Elder," Vyse said.
"I wish you success, Vyse. Know that you always have a place here among the Scroll Clan," the elder said finally. His expression mirrored the disappointment in his voice.
"I pray that I bring honor to my family and clan," Vyse said, standing to his feet.
"Though I disagree with your decision, I am confident that you will do just that. Be swift, be silent, and stay alive."
And with that, they parted ways. Vyse said goodbye to his family and friends in the clan, packed a small bag and made way for his destination: the DWMA.
Black Star…Tsubaki…I will have my revenge.
Daunting. Walking through the city still gave Vyse a constant view of the enormous building sitting high upon a mesa. He started counting the stairs that led up to the entrance and stopped after he reached a hundred. The oversized candles erected on the side of the mesa were all burning brightly. He wondered if it was not some sort of magic or artificial fire because he knew a flame of that size would emit a lot of heat.
He had sent his falsified enrollment papers to the DWMA several weeks ago and confirmed his enrollment. The only information on the forms that was correct was his name. Everything else about where he had gone to school, his parents, and his grades were all lies. He figured that they would not have accepted him if they suspected him of forgery. All must have gone smoothly in administration.
The ascent of what seemed to be the endless staircase gave Vyse a lot of time to reflect. He would be lying if he said he was sure that he was doing the right thing. He was sure that Black Star and Tsubaki needed to answer for their crimes, but he was not sure that killing them would accomplish anything. What more, they wanted the same thing that he did: to rid the world of Madness and the evil that came as a result of the Kishin.
Still, he knew that his soul would never know rest until he brought them to justice. It was his duty to his family to avenge, and he would be damned before he would sit idly by whilst none were willing to hold the Meister and Weapon accountable for their crimes. If that meant that he had to play student inside of the DWMA for a while: so be it.
When he arrived at the top he saw the open double doors into the Academy. They must have been between classes because he saw lots of kids his age going to and fro through the hallways. He was ashamed to admit that he was nervous about having to interact with his peers. He had always been ahead in his studies as an assassin and dealt a lot better with adults than kids his age.
When he got about twenty feet from the door chaos erupted in front of him. Confetti cannons fired, balloons were released, party horns were blown and a huge sign rolled up in the doorway dropped down to say, "Welcome Vyse!" Repulsion. Disgust. Embarrassment. It was reminiscent of when his mother had the bright idea of throwing him a surprise party. He threw a shuriken at the first person he saw and they were in the infirmary for weeks.
BOOM!
He turned and when he saw the fireworks he was not sure what to do. He wondered if this is how the DWMA welcomed all of the new students. Maybe they were hard-up for enrollment and wanted to make sure they retained their students. Who could know?
"Hi there! You must be Vyse Rosemont!"
He turned to see the person responsible for this extravagant welcome. There was a young man standing there with short, curly brown hair, steely blue eyes and a smile from ear-to-ear. He was wearing a brown t-shirt that simply read, "Meister," on it and khaki cargo shorts. He stood only an inch or so taller than Vyse which was not saying much because Vyse was what people would consider short.
"Hello," Vyse managed. He was leery of breathing with all of the confetti in the air.
"My name is Tsarevich and I will be your tour guide and welcome committee for your first day at the DWMA!" he announced proudly, hands on his hips, grin never faltering.
What's with this guy?
"Nice to meet you, Tsarevich," Vyse said. In a flash, the kid was in front of him, hand extended to shake. Vyse flinched at the sudden movement and almost lashed out at him out of reflex. He had to remember that while he was here, he was just a Weapon. He was not an assassin from the Scroll Clan.
He extended his hand which Tsarevich shook firmly and friendly. He started to pick up Vyse's bag for him but Vyse snatched it up before he could. He didn't like people doing things for him that he could easily do himself.
"Thanks, but I'll carry my own bag," Vyse said insistently. Not to mention that aside from a few changes of clothes, the only thing that he brought with him was an arsenal of weapons to kill Black Star and Tsubaki with. He didn't want to look suspicious.
"Suit yourself," Tsarevich said, throwing his arm around Vyse's shoulder. Disgust. Male-on-male affection. Not his thing. He tolerated the contact and allowed Tsarevich to lead him through the Academy.
"This is the classroom, we'll be spending a lot of time here, you know. This is a school after all," Tsarevich said. Vyse couldn't help but notice that there was an abundance of classrooms. Was Tsarevich sure they were in the same class. It made sense that one of his own classmen would welcome him and he dismissed the thought.
"This is the lunch room. It's where we eat. The food is great here! All you can eat if you paid for lunch tickets. If you didn't I have plenty of spares," Tsarevich said. Vyse only nodded. The room was huge. There must have been a lot more students than Vyse had originally thought.
Great…
He did not do well with large crowds of people. He had always loved living in a quaint little village outside of the main town where the Scroll Assassin Headquarters was. He went and learned, interacted when necessary, and went home to solitude if he could help it.
"This is the gym, the lavatories, the library, the dungeon—this is where we keep any criminals we catch for interrogation—this is the door that leads to the Death Room. Lord Death is in there in front of his mirror watching over the Academy and Death City at all times. We can't go in there, but I'm sure you'll get the chance to someday," Tsarevich said as he took Vyse into every nook and cranny of the school. It was impressive, larger than any building he had ever seen, lavishly decorated and comfortably housed hundreds of people.
"What's our teacher like?" Vyse asked, genuinely curious. He was also making an attempt not to be so anti-social. He did need to blend in after all. If he made himself to popular it would draw attention, and if he was too reclusive people would notice that as well. He needed to blend.
"Professor Aurion is great. You'll like him. He's a little strange though," Tsarevich admitted.
"Strange how?" Vyse asked.
"It's hard to explain. It's like he always knows more than he's letting on. He can go from cheerful to somber in seconds, and he has this weird pet peeve about people wasting their potential. Make sure not to hold back in his classes. If you do, he will know because he always does, and he will call you out and punish you for not doing your best. It's kind of annoying," Tsarevich said, rolling his eyes and sighing in frustration.
"Sounds charming," Vyse said.
"Hello, Tsarevich. Are you showing our new student around? I would hate to see you not living up to your potential. Be sure and give him the best welcome you can."
They turned and a young man in his twenties, tall, slender with smooth black hair falling into eyes stood to greet them. Tsarevich turned upside down, fell on his head and then immediately got back up. He kept a smile on his face bigger than the one he was wearing before.
"Gee, Professor…ha! Didn't see you standing there…how long were you…I mean did you hear…wow this is awkward…" Tsarevich said, laughing nervously between each fragment.
"Don't be rude, Tsarevich. Introduce me to our new student," the professor scolded.
"Of course. Professor Aurion, this is Vyse Rosemont. Vyse, this is our professor: Merios Aurion," Tsarevich said, complying.
"A pleasure to meet you," Vyse said, warily putting his hand forward. The professor shook his hand, not as vigorously as Tsarevich had, but welcoming enough.
"The pleasure is all mine. Welcome to the DWMA. As Tsarevich was so eloquently explaining, I will be your teacher this semester. We're about to start our final exams soon. Don't worry about studying for those. You're exempt from them since you're starting in the middle of the semester," the professor said.
"That's a relief," Vyse said. He doubted seriously if they could come up with a test that he could not pass. He was well-versed in the history of the academy, the rules and laws that governed both Weapons and Meisters. If he didn't ace it, he would be surprised.
"But don't think about slacking off. You still have to come to class. Tsarevich was right about one thing: I don't tolerate wasted potential. But you don't look like the type to slack off," the professor said.
"No, sir," Vyse replied, forcing a smile.
"That's a good man. Alright. I'll leave you boys to it, and I'll see you in class bright and early tomorrow morning," the professor said.
"Sure thing, Professor! Thanks! C'mon, I'll show you to our dorm," Tsarevich said.
"Our dorm?" Vyse asked, horrified.
"Yes, silly! Our dorm. We're gonna be roomies!" He actually jumped up in the air and threw his hands up in jubilation.
I'm going to be sick.
The next couple of weeks proved to be unproductive. Vyse was surprised to find out that there was plenty of stuff to learn about Weapons and Meisters and souls that he never learned as an assassin. Since theft was not above him, he took all of his textbooks, mailed them home and then told the dean of students that he had misplaced his books and got new ones. The Scroll Clan valued knowledge above all other virtues and he knew that they would love to learn some of the things in there.
Already he had several opportunities to strike at Black Star and/or Tsubaki. He would hide in the shadows, get ready to strike and then…
"Hey, Vyse! Whatcha doo-in?"
He was like a tumor, Vyse decided. No matter how many times he cut the tumor off, it just kept finding a way to glue itself to his hip. Six times now he had the opportunity to kill one of his targets and six times Tsarevich showed up at the most inopportune moment. He was starting to think that he would have to kill his Meister roommate before he could get to Black Star and Tsubaki. Unfortunately, being annoying was not grounds to kill someone and his code forbade it. He was going to get a nice little sleeping potion tonight at dinner so that Vyse would have some peace and quiet.
He was surprised and impressed on his first day of Advanced Martial Arts. He had taken the placement test. Professor Aurion was overseeing him so he had to make sure to do his best. Black Star was supposed to be his teacher, but he was nowhere to be found. When Tsubaki praised his skill and technique with a genuine smile, it was all he could do to keep the rage from showing on his face. It was all he could do not to accuse her of her crimes. It was all he could do not to lash out at her then.
Professor Aurion's presence is what restrained him. The more time he spent around that man, the more he distrusted him. He had a sneaky suspicion that he knew more than he was letting on, and that his intentions towards Vyse were not entirely noble.
The reason Vyse was surprised and impressed was that it turned out that Tsarevich was not only in Advanced Martial Arts with him, but he was at the top of his class. Out of all of the people he never imagined to be capable of hand-to-hand combat, the goofy, over-friendly, talkative Meister was at the top of the list. Naturally, they had to spar.
"Don't think I'm going to go easy on you just because you're my roommate," Tsarevich said, stretching and popping his knuckles. Vyse just smiled slyly.
You have no idea what you're about to get yourself into.
"Begin!" Tsubaki said and the match started. Vyse was faster than Tsarevich and got in a sneak attack before he even had time to guard. Vyse knocked him down on the mat with a swift punch to the gut.
"Point! Vyse: one. Tsarevich: zero. Stance! Ready! Begin!" Tsubaki announced.
Vyse dashed in to do the same attack and was caught off guard when Tsarevich blocked and counter-attacked with a flip-kick to his chin. Vyse flipped over and fell face-first on the match. Vyse was stunned. Tsarevich was quick, formidable and strong. He had taken harder hits, but he hated to admit that his roommate packed a wallop.
"Point! Vyse: one. Tsarevich: one. Stance! Ready! Begin!"
It's on now!
Vyse executed a flying dragon kick. Tsarevich stood his ground, blocked the kick with both forearms and pushed Vyse back. He jumped in the air executing a four-kick bicycle kick, all of which Vyse blocked, before coming down on him with a power fist attack. Vyse blocked with both forearms as Tsarevich had done but when the force of the blow hit him it caused him to stumble back.
He's stronger than me. How is that possible? I've been training as an assassin my entire life! I'm not going to get beat by this goofball!
Taking the defensive stance for a while, Vyse focused on blocking each blow, studying Tsarevich's moves and techniques. His punches were top-notch, but his kicks were always wide and always lacking in power. His build was on the stockier side and it slowed him down just the iota that Vyse needed to take advantage.
When Tsarevich went in for a kick, Vyse got bold and dropped down doing his signature sweep. It connected properly and Tsarevich's feet came out from under him. Up on his feet in a flash, Vyse dashed forward to land a point with a power punch of his own. The punch never hit its mark. Tsarevich twist in the air, grabbing hold of Vyse's wrist. He twirled and locked his legs behind Vyse's head and rolled forward, sending them both tumbling forward.
He did it with enough force and momentum that Vyse bounced off of the mat and into the air again. He was powerless to protect against the punch that vaulted him all the way against the matted wall.
"Point! Vyse: one. Tsarevich: two. Stance!"
Vyse was on his feet again.
"Ready!"
That was the last time Tsarevich caught him by surprise.
"Begin!"
Adrenaline flooded through Vyse's veins as he attacked. Taking the defensive was a bad strategy. He was going to see just how well Tsarevich could defend against the fastest assassin in the Scroll Clan. Tsarevich seemed to anticipate this approach and tried his best to keep up with Vyse's speed, but to no avail. When the opening came, Vyse did a flip-kick to his chin to return the favor he had given him to begin with.
"Point! Vyse: two. Tsarevich: two. Match point. Ready! Stance! Begin!"
Punch. Kick. Block. Dodge. Dodge again. Dodge again. Regain stance. Strike. Keep striking. Locate a vulnerability. Dodge. Block-block. Strike.
Vyse let his instincts take over and it looked for a moment to be a stalemate. He had fought this fight before and new his endurance would outlast Tsarevich. He persevered even when the sweat started to drip into his eyes and start stinging. He ignored the pain, pushing it to the back of his mind.
Tsarevich was trying to grab hold of him to either put him in submission or get him off of his feet, in the air, or on the mat. He was good at that. The fighting styles he learned as an assassin did not put a great deal of focus on submission holds. Lethal strikes were of more value to them. He would remember to learn a few after this fight. Wrestling his way out of Tsarevich's grip was tiring.
Vyse feigned a punch to distract his opponent and was satisfied to see he was going to fall for it.
"Gotcha!" he heard Tsarevich say as he blocked the downward chop and prepared for an uppercut. Vyse caught Tsarevich by the wrist and vaulted over his head, holding onto his arm, pulling it backwards over his head. Naturally, Tsarevich had to lean back to keep his arm from breaking it. When he did, Vyse kicked the back of his knees, let go of his arm, vaulted off of the floor and twirled through the air before bring a punch to Tsarevich's solar plexus that smashed him against the mat.
"Point! The winner is: Vyse," Tsubaki said. Vyse looked down at Tsarevich expecting him to mad. He knew that he was competitive and hated to lose. To his surprise there was that same cheesy smile on his face as he sat up, sweaty, winded and defeated.
"That was awesome!" Tsarevich said with a smile.
"It really was impressive," Tsubaki added, "Where did you learn your techniques?"
She knows. The Scroll Clan has a very distinct style. I can tell by those smiling eyes that she knows. I am compromised! Don't just stand there, you idiot! Lie! Make something up. Anything!
"My grandfather was a martial arts teacher at the school I attended before this one. He taught me everything I know," Vyse said. He lied. Both of his grandfathers died in battle before he was born.
"Your grandfather must be a remarkable man," Tsuabaki said.
"He certainly was," Vyse added.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize he had passed," she said apologetically.
"It's okay. You couldn't have known."
"Well, I'm glad to see that Tsarevich is finally going to have some competition. We had to resort to having him spar teachers recently because he beats all of his peers. He's quite the fighter," Tsubaki said. She looked proudly at Tsarevich as he picked himself off of the mat.
"I had a good teacher," Tsarevich said.
"Yeah. Black Star is really good at martial arts," Tsubaki added.
"I was talking about you," Tsarevich said with a raised eyebrow.
"He's the teacher. I'm just the assistant," Tsubaki said with a chuckle.
"Well, he's never here and I learned everything I know to you. Just giving credit where credit is due," Tsarevich insisted.
"Black Star wants to be here, he does. He just gets distracted, you know?" Tsubaki replied. It was clear that she was hopelessly devoted to her Meister. It was sickening. Vyse wondered which one he would take out first. They were probably too powerful to take on at the same time. He decided that Black Star would be the first to go. Without a Meister to wield her, even a Death Weapon like Tsubaki would be no match for him if he struck her unawares.
He and Tsarevich made their way back to their dorms after class and Vyse started getting excited as he always did before he hunted a target.
Tonight is the night. Black Star. Tsubaki. You're mine.
Tsarevich was snoring quite loudly. He passed out at the table after he gulped down the drink that Vyse had spiked with a sedative. He felt guilty drugging his roommate, but he was not here to make friends; he was here to make sure that Black Star and Tsubaki were brought justice.
He donned his classic black assassin garb and decided not to take any weapons with him. He was, after all, a living Weapon. The slightest bit of extra weight or chance that the metal would clank together and give his position away was not something that he was going to leave up to chance. He was going to strike before either one of them knew what hit them.
He waited until the laughing sun went down and the sneering moon rose in the sky. While Tsarevich had been able to thwart his attempts to strike out at Black Star and Tsubaki, he had not kept him from learning their schedule. It was Tuesday and they had hall patrol duty together. Usually, Black Star skipped this responsibility. That didn't matter. Even if he could only get Tsubaki, that would be fine.
He left his room and crept through the shadows of the hallway, treading as softly as he could manage. He looked up and saw a hallway with balconies on either side. Eventually, they would come through here and he would be free to strike. With ease, he scaled the wall up to the balcony and hid behind a pillar, concealed in the shadows and waited.
He was not normally impatient; being an assassin had taught him that waiting for the right moment to strike was crucial to success. He had been preparing for this day for years as well. As soon as his mother told him what had happened to his little sister he knew that one day his Blades would taste the blood of those responsible.
Vera, I will avenge you.
"—No way, Tsubaki! Even Advanced Martial Arts isn't cool enough for a big star like me!"
"Black Star, I'm tired of picking up your slack all the time. I know that you like to go on missions, but you have responsibility as a faculty member too."
Their voices echoed through the hallways and Vyse pinpointed their location. He watched from above, staying concealed in the shadows, his breath silently held as his eyes fixed on his targets. He would take out Black Star first, he decided. He knew that one hit from the Meister's powerful wavelength would probably kill him. With Tsubaki, even if she managed a particularly deadly blow, he would survive it simply because his weapon made him harder to injure.
Also, Black Star was a formidable opponent without his Weapon partner. Even though Tsubaki was a Death Weapon, he had a feeling that she would not be nearly as dangerous without her Meister to swing her around.
Just as they were getting close, Vyse perched himself up on the banister, transformed his right hand into a katar and zeroed in on Black Star's neck. One jump, one leap, one diving stab and that would be it. Nothing was stopping him. He just had to make sure he attacked quickly and silently.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
He nearly leapt from his skin. The quiet, somber voice came from behind him. He turned and watched as Professor Aurion stepped from within the shadows into a silver of moonlight coming through the skylight above. Even with only half of his face illuminated, Vyse could see that his expression was grim.
"Don't get in my way, Professor. This doesn't concern you," Vyse said. His voice was just above a whisper. He turned to see his targets. They were further away than he would have liked, but still within range.
"I think that a Scroll Assassin infiltrating the DWMA with intent to kill two executive faculty members does concern me," the professor said. Vyse felt his blood run cold. How could the professor have known that about him? How long had he known? He was found out and his assassination mission would have to wait. He would get answers out of the professor.
"You knew all along?" Vyse asked.
"No. I didn't realize that you had come from an assassin clan until I watched you in Advanced Martial Arts. Once I saw you fight, I knew that you were from the Scroll clan," he explained.
"So you're familiar with our fighting style and that gave me away. Bravo, Professor. What happens now? You tell Lord Death and I get expelled?"
"No one else has to know this secret but us, Vyse. I haven't told anyone. I want you to give up this foolish notion to bring vengeance on Black Star and Tsubaki. I'm not sure what it is that you think they did, but killing them will not bring back your sister," the professor said. His words cut through him, and the surprised kept surmounting.
"You perceive much, but you understand little. I am not sure how you know intimate details of my heritage, and I don't care. Mark my words, Black Star and Tsubaki will pay for the death of my sister," Vyse promised.
"Not if I have anything to do about it," the professor countered. Vyse didn't see the momevent, but he felt the vibrations in the floor and heard the shiny shoes squeak ever so slightly against the marble floor.
He dashed and struck out at the professor, hand transformed into a kama and aimed for the throat. The professor ducked and disappeared from sight. The dark room made it hard to see. Vyse closed his eyes tightly and listened. He heard the pivot in those squeaky shoes and felt the disruption in the air and threw his fist up just in time to block a kick meant for his head.
He turned and crouched, then propelled himself forward with his fist transformed into the knuckle weapon. He couldn't be sure, but he imagined that he felt facial bones giving way under the blow. Still, he knew it would not be a killing blow. He needed to kill him swiftly and silently.
He transformed his left fist into a katar and aimed a punch for the professor's heart. It never hit its mark. The professor parried the blow as he sidestepped and then planted an attack of his own into Vyse's chest. It sent him stumbling backwards, but Vyse could tell the professor was holding back.
"I wouldn't hold back if I were you. I'm not some helpless little Weapon who needs a Meister to be powerful," Vyse said, taking stance again.
"Vyse, stop this folly. Believe me when I say that I have an accurate grasp on just how capable a Weapon you really are," the professor said.
"You haven't seen anything yet," Vyse said. He was striking again, both arms changed into katars. He punched, always aiming for the middle, trying land a blow that would put the professor down. He wasn't aiming to injure, but to kill. Fighting the professor was more challenging than he ever imagined. He doubted that professor was actually faster or stronger than him at all. It was as if he could read Vyse like a book. Every technique, every improvisation seemed completely anticipated and he dodged, blocked or countered it with ease. Another punch to the chest, this one harder than the one before, sent Vyse rolling back. He found his footing and looked at the professor again.
"My now, that is interesting! I can't believe I didn't see that before. You're a Dark Arm! Just like Tsubaki!"
"Don't ever compare me to her!" Vyse screamed. He struck with endless punches and kicks, all evaded easily. It was if they had rehearsed the fight and were going through the motions. The Professor was never surprised.
"Enough of these games, Vyse. I'm sure you've figured out by now that there is no way that you're going to beat me. You must see the futility of this and give it up. Black Star and Tsubaki are even more powerful than I am. If you can't beat me, how could you ever hope to defeat them?"
"Shut up! Why do you interfere? This doesn't concern you! I have unfinished business with them."
"You'll settle it someday; I'm sure of it. The time and the place for that is not now. If you engage in battle with Black Star and Tsubaki, they will kill you. Black Star is not nearly as forgiving as I am when people try to kill him."
"As long as I died fighting for the honor of my family, I would welcome death," Vyse said.
"Those are brave words, but we both know they're not true. You fear death above all things and it makes you weak. You're going to have to defeat your own fear before you can ever hope to defeat your foes," the professor said.
"Stop giving me advice! Is there something wrong with your head? I'm trying to kill you! Remember?"
"You are a remarkable Weapon, and assassin to boot. I don't think even you fully understand the scope of your skill and talent, or the depth of your potential. All of that is of no use to you if you continue on this meaningless, misguided mission to avenge your sister's death by killing Black Star and Tsubaki. You were meant for so much more than that, Vyse. You will play a role in the events to come that will decide the fate of many. You can't afford to waste your time and talent on silly notions like revenge," the professor said.
"You shut the hell up! You have no idea what you're talking about! My sister is dead and it's all their fault! I will never rest until my Blades taste the sweetness of bloody revenge! Do you hear me! I'll kill you if I have to!"
"So…this is the path that you have chosen. So be it. Do your worst, Assassin. I won't be holding back this time," the professor said, taking a combat stance. Vyse advanced and assaulted him with a barrage of kicks, punches, slashes and jabs. He moved without consciously thinking about what he was doing; he let his instincts take over just as he had with the elder.
Low punch. Block. Bring knee up to strike. Duck. Downward slash. Dodge. Improvised whirlwind kick. Vulnerable. Defend. Retreat. Advance. Strike again.
"If you're trying to wear me down, you should change up your strategy. I'm sure my endurance is on the same level as yours. I'd like to finish this up before classes begin if you don't mind," the professor said. Vyse decided a new approach. He picked up some tricks from fighting Tsarevich. He reached out to grapple onto the professor. He was confident that if he could get hold of him he could strike a killing blow. The problem was that no matter what he did, the professor just dodged with ease.
Am I really outmatched? Can this really be happening?
He took his last stand. He stopped thinking about executing disciplined attacks and fell back into the recesses of his hate while he lashed out. Suddenly, the professor was on edge. He wasn't dodging or reacting nearly as fast. He was able to keep pace for the most part, but just barely. What had changed? Vyse knew that he had been performing at his peak level the entire time. Why was the professor on the run now?
Vyse was more vulnerable than ever. He was attacking like a berserker, not giving any conscious though to fighting at all. He let out involuntary howls and breaths as he executed attacks, but he couldn't recall whether he was punching or kicking.
"Soul pulsar!"
If felt like the Earth's gravitational pull was no longer keeping Vyse on the planet. All of the threads that held him to the world had been cut except for the few tying him to the pain wracking his being right now. It was more than just pain in his body. His mind could only focus on one thing: the pain. He wasn't a Meister so he could not see or manipulate his soul wavelength, but he was aware enough of things to realize that his very soul had been assaulted.
The professor pivoted on his feet and prepared for another attack. Vyse was only vaguely aware that he was barely standing to his feet, arms drooping, back slouched, eyes agape and mouth wide-open. Another attack was coming.
"You look hungry; have a second helping," the professor said. Vyse could not so much as attempt to get out of the way to avoid the attack.
Speechless. Thoughtless. Soul-less. He was un-made. The pain was so intense he wished he could just pass out or die. What was only moments in real time felt like a lifetime. He was caught in a world were only pain existed and it was driving him mad. He cried out from deep in his being for relief. He begged for death without words or thoughts. He needed something to cling to in order to maintain his grasp on reality before the void swallowed him up.
Why was he here? What had he come to do? Did he even know that anymore? Vera. He remembered his sister. Bright, smiling, pretty little girl, carefree and whimsical. He remembered her life snuffed out prematurely. He remembered the grief, the pain, the sorrow, the anger, and the thirst for revenge. Black Star. Tsubaki. I will have my revenge.
I will have my revenge.
"I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!"
Vyse finally came out of whatever state of awareness he had previously been tied to. He was on one knee, using one arm to brace against the floor to keep him from falling. The other to cradle an arm across his chest in attempts to soothe what he could only describe as a bruise in his soul. He looked up at the professor standing about fifteen feet away from him. He wondered why he did not attack. Why didn't he finish him off.
"Kill me. I have brought dishonor to my family and clan. I have failed my mission. I do not deserve to live," Vyse pleaded.
"I will not. You will live to fight another day. I want you to think about what I said. You'll never live up to your potential if your only goal in life is revenge. If you can find the strength to let it go, you will become something far greater than you ever imagined."
"I will never let go of my quest for vengeance. I underestimated the power of the Meisters at the DWMA. I'm coming back, and this time I'm going to be prepared," Vyse promised. He gathered his strength, ran for the nearest open window and leapt out of it into the night.
He knew that no one had ever died of a bruised ego, but he wondered if anyone had ever died of a bruised soul.
I'm not just coming for Black Star and Tsubaki next time, Merios Aurion. I'll have my revenge on you as well. The DWMA has not seen the last of Vyse Rosemont.