Chapter 8

Real Men Face Their Fears

Regna Ferox: West Khan Training Grounds

Lucina fought not to shiver from the cold as she stood before the current most powerful man in Regna Ferox. It would seem even the cloak she procured for the harsh Feroxian weather did little for her, and as comforting as her usual get-up was, it stood no chance against the relentless winds that only this country seemed to know how to produce.

Which made it all the more baffling that the giant of a man before her was out here practically shirtless. The sheer size of the Feroxian would make any warrior wary of his presence and doubt their capabilities, no matter their build or battle experience. The titan of a man stood almost two heads over Lucina and had the chiseled build of a warrior, while the eye patch he wore gave him the one-eyed stare that could stop a manakete in its flight. Snow partially covered his dark-skinned skin, and the only hair she could see on him was the goatee on his face.

His physique was impressive, even with the shirt that barely covered his pectorals. The gorget around his neck was gold with puffy white fur that circled the plate from the sides to the back. Gold armor guarded his arms and legs, and a champion belt encircled his waist. His presence alone commanded respect, and no one would risk crossing a man who looked powerful enough to eat a wyvern for every meal. Gods, the glare he was giving her right now gave her more goosebumps than the wind!

Then there was the black-haired myrmidon next to him, wearing the garb of a Chon'sin warrior. His Valmese heritage only strengthened the permanent scowl on his face, which made standing in front of the Khan that much more intimidating. If not for his title and known friendship, she would have easily taken him for a Valmese mercenary.

"…So, you strolled past all my men, snuck into my grounds, just to test your steel? I knew lads these days were capable of bouts of stupidity, but I think this new generation has officially gone beyond even my expectations." Lucina did not retort. "…Hmmm, you don't dress like an assassin. More like an aristocrat playing knight. Makes me wonder if you are that good or if I should hammer my men for slacking."

"Would it matter, sir? I've come to challenge your Champion to single combat, as is West Feroxian tradition. Does how I present that challenge matter?"

The Khan actually snorted. "I suppose not. Guess the only thing that would matter right now is whether you can fight, no?"

The time-traveler nodded. "That is my hope, sir."

"HA! Alright, I'll humor you, lad. If ya got the brass ta sneak in, then ya probably got the steel as well." The relief she felt was refreshing. She'd ventured out here alone in hopes of proving she was worthy enough for the blonde to place the world in her hands, but the fear of failing lingered on her shoulders like an unwanted companion. Now she wondered what exactly was going through her head when she decided to come here alone.

"I only ask that when I am victorious, I replace your current champion at the upcoming tourney."

"Harharhar! Ya hear that, Lon'qu? Lad already has ya beaten!" Of course she did. In her time, Lon'qu was known to be second only to her father. Even at the time of the tournament, her father was the better swordsman, and though she did not claim to be on par with either swordsman, she would like to think she was close.

Stepping forward, Lon'qu placed a hand on his blade, prepared for the upcoming duel. "You'll find that my champion is no pushover, Lad. Hope yer words are as tough as yer bark!"

Lucina showed no signs of hesitation as she placed a hand on her sword.

This was it. After she was victorious, the course of time would change. Ylisse would get the soldiers that they needed whether her father won or lost, and the injury he suffered in this country would never be written. This was the time to-

Faster than she could blink, a blur shot over her head. Her breath caught, and she would have fallen on her rear if her leg hadn't caught her in time. She was ready to defend herself, but noticed the champion hadn't even drawn his sword and was just as perplexed as her. Both of their attention turned to the Khan whose now extended arm lowered as he glared in her general direction.

"I know you're out there. Come out."

His words were as cold as the look he sent her way, but clearly at something above her. She didn't know what until she got her answer in the form of a presence suddenly behind her. Her sword was drawn instantly and poised to strike whoever had gotten the jump on her.

The revealed, now kneeling, figure made her as wary as the Khan and Champion. Clearly of Chon'sin origin much like Lon'qu, the foreigner held their head low in a manner that seemed almost subservient. From the way the foreigner's head bowed, she couldn't see their face, but the colors and the way their black locks fell hinted at the figure being female. Question was: who was this, and what exactly was their business here?

"Well I'll be," Khan Basilio spoke up behind her. "An Ylissean with a Valmese Shinobi. I'd say it's a good start to a good bar joke if I wasn't the punchline! HARHARHARHAR!" Lucina looked agasped at the Khan's words.

"Wha-but, but I have-"

"Please put no fault on my liege, Khan Basilio," the figure spoke over her. "I was given orders not to follow, and did so of my own free will. The blame lies with me and I will accept any punishment on my lord's behalf." Lucina didn't understand what was going on or why this person was calling her by such a title. She knew not where they crawled from nor their intentions, but she was sure she'd never met a shinobi from-

Wait... it couldn't be...

On further observation, she could see the faint glint of something around the kneeling figure's neck. It was faint, but the silver plate and the stump that was the figure's right arm couldn't mistake the figure for anyone else.

Angrily, she stepped closer and whispered so only he could hear, "What are you doing?!"

"I'm saving your ass," he replied with equal containment.

"I'll give ya one thing," the Khan spoke over them. "You two both made quite a first impression. So, it's only right that I make my own, doncha think?"

Lucina wasn't prepared.

Scratch that, she was sure that even if she was prepared, she wouldn't have been able to do anything.

The 26th reigning West Khan of Regna Ferox was a legendary figure in her world, someone who was both feared and respected. With a blade, he could slice a water jar in two without spilling even a single drop—a feat most called superhuman. His strength was equally as terrifying as the man was known to wrestle Feroxian Wild Bears and come out unscathed and a new trophy to put over his fireplace.

However, his prowess on the battlefield wasn't limited to just feats of strength and skill. Though his strength was undeniable, his mind was just as sharp. Unlike Khans before him, Khan Basilio knew how to lead. He was powerful, but the acts and systems he put forward helped not only bring West Feroxia back to its former glory after 2 decades of no rule but also brought former clans back to glory while bringing back the trust the previous Khan once lost with the people.

But on top of leading, he knew how to win. The glory of fighting as a Feroxian may have been the backbone and culture of the Feroxians, but Khan Basilio proved to be the first reigning Khan of the West to throw tradition and ethics out of the window. In his own words that were later written by historians to tell his legend, "Honor means nothin' if yer gutted".

The quote perfectly described the actions of the Khan that was now right in front of her, swinging an axe nearly the size of himself, aimed directly for her throat. Like the throwing knife, she didn't even see the man move. One moment she was looking at the man. The next, she blinked, and the reigning Khan of the West was inches away from beheading her.

That should have been the end of her story. In Regna Ferox, Princess Lucina of House Lowell met her end at the hand of Khan Basilio. No one would remember who she was, and her friends would be left alone and unaware of her demise. She wouldn't have even been able to see the flashes of her life, seeing that her head would be removed before she even realized she was going to die.

Then blade met axe.

She was thrown back by a shockwave, snow hitting her face as she tried to stabilize and look at what had just saved her. What-no, who she saw had just saved her life was like one of her childhood dreams come to life. Holding a short katana downward horizontally while using his stump to hold back most of the force from the Khan's blow, was her teacher; disguised, teacher. The blade, she noticed, glowed a faint blue along the hilt to the tip of the blade, similar to the red that was the Khan's axe.

Swordbreaker.

A skill Khan Basilio was known to have mastered to the point performing it came as easy as breathing. A skill that took years, even decades to perform, let alone master, and yet Khan Basilio not only mastered it, but had more in his arsenal; the same skill that would have been responsible for her demise like it had so many others before her.

And her teacher, the man who swore to make her move mountains, matched the Khan's strength using Luna and a short blade. It, it was truly unfathomable.

Words were exchanged by the two clashing warriors, but the sound of her heartbeat drowned them out. A kick to the Khan's solar plexus separated the shinobi from the hulk of a man, the shinobi performing a flip before landing on his feet. Almost the moment he touched ground, the Khan was in front of him once more. His axe came overhead to which the shinobi dodged via twisting his body and using the momentum to swing his blade at the Khan's neck.

The Khan leaned back, followed by raising his free arm to block the kick that came shortly after. The Khan attempted to use the opening given by the block, but sensed steel coming from his blind spot that was his left missing eye. He was able to block the attack with the hilt of his axe, but the shinobi proved to be ruthless in his assault. The moment he blocked one attack, another was already heading his way-forcing the Khan to either block or dodge. He was able to go on the offensive, but whatever momentum he had in his swings was easily exploited by his much quicker opponent. Basilio was sure the masked man would tire much quicker than he, but at the rate things were going, the man would likely catch first blood.

The thought that he would, for the first time in what felt like decades, possibly be matched, or even defeated, made his Feroxian spirit sing.

Blows blurred from the Khan and shinobi, strength and skill being tested against speed and precision.

An overhead swing deflected into a forward jab.

A high kick blocked with a forearm.

A cheap shot to the groin foiled by the handle of an axe.

The same axe deflected later by a blade many would say was inferior.

Steel clashed against steel, but no clear sign of an advantage showed between the fighters. Despite clearly being slower than his opponent, Khan Basilio's defense was ironclad. The shinobi was fast, but Basilio's advanced senses allowed him to hold his own against the multiple fatal blows his foe continuously aimed for. One wrong move, and the Khan would most likely be delivered a fatal cut, but one misplaced step from the shinobi would have him split in half.

Alas, it was the shinobi's flexible fighting style that won him the first blow.

The Khan attempted to sacrifice first blood by swinging his axe wide, using his free hand to reach back into his pouch to procure the small Tomahawk he had stashed in his belt. In an amazing show of acrobatics and flexibility, the shinobi performed a spinning duck before reeling back and shooting his leg straight up. The kick hit home, snapping the Khan's neck back and damn near lifting him off his feet. Blow striking true, the shinobi retracted his leg and was already in position to end the fight then and there.

To what was no doubt the utter confusion of the two bystanders watching the bout, the shinobi thrust his arm right into the Khan's chest. Usually, that wouldn't have been a problem. The blow could have been enough to break a rib, stop the heart, or even be the perfect time to run a blade straight through. Problem with that was that you had to actually HAVE a hand to execute it.

Something the shinobi found out firsthand (no pun intended) when his stump slammed uselessly into the Khan's abs.

Both combatants stopped to look down at the failed attack as if the very act of thrusting a limb you no longer had was worth the realms, pausing to share a moment of silence.

Silence broken by a fist smashing into the shinobi's mask, sending him catapulting back. As expected, he landed on his feet, but the power of the Khan showed through the shattered side of the shinobi's mask, which showed an eye staring down at the stump that was his arm.

"Well I'll be. Not only blocked my axe but also got skill? Harhar! And Flavia says love at first strike doesn't exist!" The Khan laughed, stopping just as quickly to grin at the duo. "For a guy with one good arm, you sure as hell know how to fight! Don't know what you were planning with that stump, but I'm sure it would have given me another scar I will boast about to the next lass I lay!" The Khan laughed once more, yet the shinobi's eyes never left his arm.

"Alright, lad. Be honest here. Where didcha find such a gem?" Realizing she was being spoken to, Lucina looked back to the Khan and quickly searched her mind for a lie. In the end, she took a page out of her teacher's book and stole one of his quotes.

"On, the road of life, sir." Thankfully, the Khan's loud guffaws returned, even if Lucina couldn't find it in herself to even force a smile.

"Y'know what? That bout put me in a good mood. So good, in fact, I'm willing to have you prove yourselves once more." All attention was now back on the man currently putting away his axe and pointing his gaze towards his former adversary. "Thought you two clowns, but ya proved yer steel. So say this: You against my man. Winner fights as my new Champion. Good enough for you lot?"

Lucina's eyes widened. Yes. Yes, that's exactly what she wanted. It was her original plan from the start, so the only thing she'd have to do was-

"Forgive me, but I must decline for my Liege." Never had the time traveler's head snap faster towards a voice. "With all due respect, Khan Basilio, my Liege is not here to only represent you as your Champion. We also hold hope that you will listen to a request of ours when we are victorious in the coming tournament."

The Khan smirked while crossing his beefy arms. "'When'? You sound pretty confident in your kid. What makes you think she has a farts chance in the wind of winning? Nothing personal, but I've seen enough to know she is no match for my Champion." The Champion did not move an inch, which said more about the time-traveler whose hand balled into fist.

"You are correct. My Liege skill with the sword is unique, but far from ready to fight someone of you or your Champion's caliber." Lucina's head lowered, a hint of betrayal creeping into her heart, even if the words were possibly true. "That is why I wish to be the one to challenge your Champion." The surprises kept coming, making it hard for Lucina to stick with one emotion.

"HARHARHAR! Don't get me wrong, I like you, but gotta pass on yer offer. Don't know if you're aware, but you've got an obvious flaw in your fighting style—one that you've shown more than once during our short bout. You may have been formidable before your handicap, but that was then, and this is now."

"My weakness is only temporary."

"Maybe, maybe not. Fact is, the moment your weakness is discovered, that's your arse; and mine. Why in the Gods' names would I risk my rule and reputation on a recent cripple? If that's the case, then I might as well hand Regna Ferox over to Flavia with a griffon's head and a silver fork!"

"I believe you are vastly underestimating him, sir." Lucina decided to speak up, walking forward to be the center of attention. "It is true that his injuries are recent and an obvious weakness, but you have yet to see what he is fully capable of."

The Khan raised a brow, seemingly ready to give a rebuttal, but the time traveler did not give him a chance to.

"Furthermore, is it not Feroxian tradition for a Champion to accept any challenge, no matter who or how it is presented? If he loses, then you are proven correct, and we suffer humiliation. But if he wins even in his current state, then isn't it your Champion's skill that is put into question?" Lucina paused, praying to every God that what she was about to say did not make the father of one of her closest friends put her head on some stake on his wall. "In truth, what does it say about your Champion if he is bested by a cripple?"

The lull that followed carried even over the blowing wind, yet the looks aimed at her varied. The Khan's single eye widened slightly in what she thought was shock, while the single eye shown by the shinobi stretched to almost comical proportions. If she didn't know any better, she would say the stump he held up was meant to be some gesture of approval.

And the Champion?

"I'll fight him." We're the first words spoken by the myrmidon since she'd arrived. "I'll fight him, and put this talk to rest." The words he spoke were sharp and to the point. It would seem the man was as taciturn as he was in her future. Now, if only his glare was pointed at his actual opponent instead of her...

And the Khan would cease his obnoxious laughter...

...

A sharpened katana with a red hilt was removed from its sheath. Lowering his center of balance with his sword held parallel to his face and pointed right at his opponent, Lucina couldn't stop herself from awing at the man she knew as one of the strongest Shepherds of her time. His stance was ironclad, one of the best and most intimidating Chon'sin stances she'd seen in her life; the still present glare making the man that much more terrifying to cross blades with. It would seem that even in his youth, Lon'qu was equally as terrifying as the man on the opposite side of his blade. Many have spoken on how good her swordsmanship was compared to her father, but after being ruthlessly evaluated by both Naruto and the Khan, she was not so certain she could win a duel with the Champion of the West anymore.

Glancing to her left, she could see her 'guard' focused on his current adversary. She had every confidence that he could win even with his new disability, but the end of his recent bout with the Khan continued to plague her mind. If she believed the blonde, then he could somehow overcome his weakness before this fight was over. However, if he couldn't, then they'd have just humiliated themselves and lost their only chance to stop a major event from happening.

They needed this win. They needed to become the Khan's Champions no matter what. They needed both Khans' support if they were to avoid both her father's injury and the many lives they would lose if they did not get Regna Ferox's support. This would be the first major change they would have on the timeline, and Lucina could only pray her teacher knew what he was doing.

...

"...Your name," the quiet Champion spoke, getting a tilt of the head from the equally silent one across from him. "It is Feroxian courtesy to exchange names before a duel. So, name yourself."

There was no answer from the still neutral foreigner.

"Hmph, fine. Then your mask." The foreigner tilted his head once more before a hand came up to the broken mask. Truth be told, Lon'qu honestly couldn't care less if the man did or did not. If he wished to handicap himself by greatly reducing his visibility, then that was a mistake. Lon'qu simply had to make him see through the sharpness of his blade. However, with the already given handicap, it wouldn't be much of a duel if his opponent chose to put himself through another disadvantage.

"...Before we begin, I'd like to make another wager with you, Khan Basilio." Both Feroxian's brows slightly rose at the mask figure. "As you know, I was not the one intended to represent the West Khan. That honor belonged to my Liege. And, as selfish as her goals are, I made a promise that I'd make her goals a reality as well as make her strong enough to complete them even when I'm dead. I've only been her teacher for a short period of time, but she is still my student. As her teacher, an insult to my skills is an insult to hers. And as her protector," in a swift motion, the shinobi flicked his sword and blood flew from his missing arm. "I cannot, in good conscience, let an insult to my Liege pass without being checked. So, another wager."

Standing tall, he held the now bloodstained sword towards the Feroxian Champion.

"5 minutes. I give you five minutes to draw a simple drop of blood. Succeed, and it shall be your victory. I will fight and be the West Khan's vassel till your reign comes to an end. All of my skills shall be yours, and whomever you wish to teach them to."

Lucina's mouth fell open as the stakes were raised further than what she thought was necessary. "Th-that's insanity! You cannot actually be-"

A raised hand was all it took to silence her, the wind whistling through the training grounds being the only thing to fill the lull in the conversation.

"However, fail to draw even a single drop within the given time, and I shall not only represent you as your Champion, but also gain a favor of my choosing when the time comes. This should be no problem for your Champion, no? After all, I am a cripple."

Lucina was beginning to fear that her heart would beat out of her chest at this point. Every thump made her that much more anxious, and the continuous shivers were now extending to her entire body. The consequences of the blonde losing were the only thing she could think about, and it was beginning to make her lightheaded.

As what was starting to be expected of the Khan, he laughed.

"If I agree, then I'm a fool, but if I refuse, then I'm a bigger fool! It really is love, I tell ya! DYAHARHARHARHAR!" His joviality was contained shortly after before flipping into an almost mad grin. "You got yourself a goddamn deal! Hell, win, and I'll even give you a room in the castle till you reinstate me as the next Khan! Consider it a gift for you both havin' brass the size of Dragons!"

Lucina didn't even have the breath to speak anymore. The decisions being made were far from her wishes, and the fact she could do nothing only further grew the pit in her stomach.

All she could think to do was pray. Pray to all the Gods that the shinobi showed the talent and power he proved back in her timeline.

Otherwise, he may have just doomed them all.

...

"Your mask," Lon'qu said before the bout could start officially. "You are already at so many disadvantages. I refuse to add to that; no matter how small. That is my condition if you wish for this to continue."

In the silence, Lucina feared her teacher wouldn't concede to the simple request. She was proven wrong a second later when the shinobi slowly reached for the mask, removing it slowly and deliberately, as if to increase the suspense.

It was well worth it, but the reactions were stretched. Lucina looked as if she was seeing the man behind the mask for the first time while Basilio, immediately laughed. "Would ya look at that? This is either bad luck or fate tryna whisper in yer ear, eh boy?" He joked, making light of the situation despite knowing the gynophobia the man suffered from.

His trademark smile fell the moment he took a good look at his Champion.

For years, Basilio knew of Lon'qu's particular 'quirk'. Gynophobia was rare, but that didn't mean it didn't exist—proof being the man currently standing as his right hand. Whenever there was a woman nearby or just in the vicinity, the stoic warrior he knew became more of a wary dog afraid of contact. He never understood why and never asked seeing that it did not at all affect his sword hand or his prowess as a warrior. However, watching the man who he believed would replace him as reigning Khan in time be reduced to a frightened animal made the Khan wonder for the first time if he should have taken greater measures in investigating his pupil's troubled past. If he had, then maybe his Champion wouldn't be backing away in fear at this very moment.

He looked pale—paler than he'd ever seen him. His eyes were widened to inhuman proportions, and the step he took back was definitely in fear, but far more than usual. His mouth opened and closed, unable to force out a syllable as he stared down the face of the stranger, whom he was no longer sure was so.

Suddenly, he was not so sure of his Champion's victory.

"For your sake," the now unmasked 'woman' smiled with what Lon'qu thought to be feigned innocence, "I hope you fight with the intent to kill."

...

People are often severely ignorant of just how powerful fear is until the moment it takes control of every nerve and bone in their bodies. That precise moment when your joints lock up, your heart pounds, and your brain flashes through the important moments of your life is an experience few get, and fewer have the pleasure of living afterward.

Some live through the experience. Those who do are said to have a better understanding and appreciation for life. However, not everyone comes out the same. While some are able to use the experience to improve themselves both physically and mentally, there are others who suffer under the weight of particular ordeals. Commonly known as PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), the victim is known to have constant flashbacks of past events to the point they become physically ill, paranoid, depressed, hyper-reactionary, and sometimes even see hallucinations.

Lon'qu was feeling every one of those symptoms and more. Flashes of his past played before him, and despite adapting to the cold years ago, he could feel it running down his very spine. That should have been a sign to his brain that something was wrong with what he was seeing.

And yet, his mind couldn't make heads or tails of the sorcery that was in front of him.

"You are already down 30 seconds, Lon'qu-san. If you do not engage, then you will have no hope of completing this challenge."

His heart ached once more. Gods, even the voice matched. He knew this wasn't her. Memories of watching her be buried from afar were evidence enough that the woman before him was not her. But his heart wanted to think otherwise. It wanted to hope, despite the reality he'd already made peace with.

"Tell me," he tried, hoping to at least ease his heart's selfishness, if even a little. "Where were you raised?"

"Is that truly something you should be concerned-"

"Answer!"

The woman did not, in fact, answer. Lon'qu had the brief mind to answer the imposter with his steel before she finally spoke. "...Chon'sin. I was born and raised in Chon'sin." His heart-rate started its ascension once more. "Why is that of any importance to you, Lon'qu-san?"

Instead of demeaning her with her rightful answers, he decided to ask another question of his own. "Chun Lee. Chon-Gan. Do those names mean anything to you?"

The woman did not answer, nor did she show any signs of recognition.

"...May 13th. You know that date, don't you?"

"..."

"...North of Chon'sin, there's a village on the outskirts. What's its-"

"Oi! This ain't a local pub! If you two wanna lock lips so bad, then do so after one of you is on their arse or dead!" Basilio loudly proclaimed, getting irritated at both the lack of combat and the wager that was on the line. Despite his misgivings, a fire was lit within him as his sword arm stabilized for the first time. Training kicked back in and his desire to punish for using such an underhanded trick fueled his growing anger.

"I don't know who you are or why you share her face, but I fight as the champion of West Khan Basilio. In his name, I will cut you down where you stand." If this was some kind of sick sorcery, then she would rue the day she used that face against him.

"I think that's very ironic coming from you of all people." Lon'qu eyes furrowed at that.

"And why is that?" The man did not like the smile that appeared after his question.

"That someone who can't even protect a simple village girl from barbarians has sold his own sword to one-"

Faster than one could almost blink, Lon'qu was in front of the woman, his sword clashing against her own. Instead, testing his power against hers, the blade of the stranger deflected the blow to her left and jab forward with her shorter weapon. The swordsman ducked the blow and brought his sword up to remove the remaining limb from her shoulder. His arms were met with resistance as his foe forced his sword into the dirt with her foot followed by a high knee that snapped his head back and a kick that sent him stumbling back.

Shaking the lights from his vision, he readied himself for his adversary's next attack, only to remember the whole point of the duel.

"Did I, perhaps, strike a nerve?"

His answer was multiple jabs and swings to her guard, followed by an overhead swing that would have cut her in two if not for the short katana perfectly deflecting it to the side. Despite the deflect, Lon'qu saw the counterattack coming and raised his free arm to catch the imposter's wrist. Locking the wrist with an iron grip, he readied his sword arm to come up and cut the woman in two without hesitation.

What he did not expect was for the dagger to leave the hand of its wielder and sore back into her mouth while her leg blocked the hilt of his arm once more. Then, in a move he never expected from any typical warrior, she used the grip he had on her arm to pull him in and slash at his face using the blade in her teeth. Before the imposter could lop off his forearm, he quickly retracted the limb and made to take advantage of the imposter's momentum.

He was almost too late to notice that it was a feint.

In a show of speed and acrobatics that topped even the best Feroxian dancers, she spun on her heel and performed three kicks, all of which hit with devastating efficiency. The first spinning kick he saw coming and brought his sword arm up in time to block. He would have been just as successful blocking with a switch for all the good it did with his own arm. The blow completely broke through his guard and made him stumble. The second kick swept him off his feet, leaving him airborne and vulnerable for the last kick to crash into his abdomen and send him flying once more.

Despite the punishment and the speed at which he was sent flying, Lon'qu was able to roll to his feet just in time to see the woman's hand out stretched and multiple black objects soaring towards him. Metal rang as he deflected target after target, each coming faster and closer to hitting something important.

That is, until it did.

Honestly, he didn't know how it happened either. One moment, one of those strange knives flew over his head. The next, it was imbedded into his shoulder.

And like that, first blood had been drawn.

"You have one minute and thirty seconds left, Swordsman-san."

…

Lucina was awed at the speed with which the man, who was known as the Sword Demon back in her time, moved. It would seem that even in his younger years, the Demon was just as deadly as he was in his prime. The precision of every strike, his reaction speed, and the ferocity that could easily overwhelm even the best swordsman made her feel a bit ashamed at her confidence in victory over this man. She held no illusion that his first strike alone would have been enough to defeat her, if not outright kill her. She did not stand a chance against. Yes, maybe if she had a bit more experienced when it came to combat with an equal, but her lack of experience in clashing blades with anything that was not already dead and slow hindered her heavily, a fact she now fully realizes after watching the Demon fight before her.

A Demon that was being tossed around by an even more terrifying Demon.

The fight hadn't been going on for long, but it was clear after the first two exchanges who the more experienced combatant was. The swordsman was putting up an admirable fight, but his opponent was on a different scale, even despite the missing limb. Every swing was either met with a parry or outright missed its target, while every move of the shinobi landed and hit with devastating efficiency.

But Lon'qu was a legend in his own right. He was a future Shepherd. A Shepherd infamous across Archanea for his swordsmanship and was even said to be the next Reigning Khan if he had not died in the war with Valm. A man feared for his ruthless swordsmanship and chilling presence which could stop a charging wyvern. A legend that inspired warriors across Feroxia and put fear in the hearts of those who crossed him.

What exactly did all that mean in the face of a man who'd fought and nearly killed a God? As she saw the swordsman get sent flying back yet again by a palm strike of all things, she knew the answer was 'very little'.

She'd heard stories of how shinobi of the Realms fought, getting a taste of it firsthand not a day prior. But there was clearly a difference between what she fought had and what she was seeing now. As much as it ate at her pride, the Hero of Archanea had gone easy on her. The strikes he'd delivered on her carried weight, but didn't seem to be nearly as hard as the man's physique showed. His hits were but love taps in comparison to the punches and kicks she was seeing delivered to the Champion of West Ferox.

Seeing the swordsman get sent flying for the third consecutive time kinda, sorta, relieved the blonde had gone easy on her. She was no healer, but even she was sure hits like that would break her more frail female form.

That fact made her hands ball up in frustration. She was to be the one to save the world and change the future. She was the one Naga had entrusted the future to, and she was the one chosen to inherit the will of Archanea's greatest hero.

And yet, she was weak. Not very long ago, she thought herself an equal to the likes of the Sword Demon of Regna Ferox. She thought herself strong enough to tackle the responsibility of changing the world with her own hands. But it had already been nearly a week since her arrival, and, for the first time in a long time, an old feeling had resurfaced within her. That feeling of being a child in a world far bigger than her understanding.

The grip on her sword tightened, and she made sure her eyes never left this fight. Time was almost up, but Lucina had no more need to pray for her teacher's victory. She only prayed it was over soon so her training could begin anew.

…

Lon'qu fought to catch his breath as he leaned on his sword, the cold wind stinging his throat after every lunge full of air. He did not expect this fight to be easy, but he never expected it to be this one-sided either. As a warrior, it would be foolish of him to underestimate his opponent, no matter their stature, gender, or disability. It was a lesson stoned into him the moment he first picked up the sword and a lesson he learned harshly through real-world experience.

It was a very valuable lesson.

Never had he thought he'd meet an opponent other than the Khans who could so easily toss him around the snow like a sack of rice. Every move he made was expertly parried and countered with the ease of a master swordsman but with the versatility of an assassin. He was sure he would have been sent to the afterlife many times in their exchanges if not for his opponent's opting to use his limbs instead of his dagger.

It was humiliating; a bout he desperately wished Basilio wasn't here to see. The only thing worse was the fact that Ke'ri-no, this imposter not only held the face of someone who had long passed, but was also insanely skilled. It was infuriating.

"Eight years, and this is all you have to show? I'd say I'm disappointed, but it is to be expected from a swordsman that carries no weight behind his blade."

Lon'qu held his anger back from the words as he pushed himself back to his feet with the help of his katana. It had only been a few seconds into their bout, but the punishment his body had taken from both blocking and receiving hits from this imposter left his body bruised and nearly broken. In fact, he was sure the reason he couldn't get much air into his lung was likely due to the kick that no doubt fractured or cracked his ribs.

"Is this the same power you swore to protect me with that day?"

Once again, the swordsman did not acknowledge the imposter's words. Calming his breath, he closed his eyes to reach for the untouched pool of mana within. The pain was still there, and his breaths were still giving him discomfort, but regulating his breathing allowed him to aim his thoughts inward rather than on the pain throughout his body. In only a few moments, he could feel his heartbeat slow and his thoughts become more controlled.

"Do you think forgetting that day makes you stronger? If so, then you truly are the coward I thought you were."

Ignore all distractions.

Taking in another breath, he tried to remember his training. His opponent was not just some common bandit or Feroxian barbarian. She was trained and disciplined. Not one of her movements was wasted despite her earlier blunder with the Khan. Every swing of her dagger and movement of her body had purpose. She used everything as a weapon, and she used it well. Her mind was calm, while his mind was in turmoil; though he felt that was just an excuse, it was still a fact. There was no time for him to adapt to his opponent, either. Even now, as he sits here and deliberates, the few seconds he had remaining were quickly running out.

"No matter how hard you train your body, a weak spirit will forever hold you down. Is that not how you failed me before?"

Ignore all distractions.

She was obviously more skilled than he was. Her reactions were astounding, and her speed wasn't something to scoff at either. The only thing she seemed to lack was power, but that came with the disadvantage of being a woman.

That fact meant nothing. What was important was how he planned to win this duel and how to do it quickly. She did not seem the type to lose their cool, nor was his tongue skilled enough to rattle her.

"You can ignore my words-"

Ignore all distractions.

No, if he wished to win this duel, then he would have to pull something completely out of left field, taking a page straight from Khan Basilio's book. Something that she would not, could not, expect. Something that could completely crumble the wall that she'd kept up this entire fight.

"...but the truth of your failure will forever be with you, as it is with me."

...It was all too convenient that there was such a skill in his back pocket.

"It's ironic, really."

Slowing his breathing, Lon'qu grabbed hold of his mana reserves.

"You wish for answers, yet have yet to do so."

He held his breath.

"You'll need to spill my blood."

Doing so, he could feel something click in his body. At the same time, despite his body fighting to get the necessary air into his lungs, he could now feel the mana within him speeding up.

"The same blood you once watched spill."

His now-awakened mana began streaming through his body like a bursting dam. Power and stability began coursing through every cell in his body as he could feel his pain receding.

"It's tragic, yet funny."

No time to fully enjoy the power he was feeling, he guided the flow of power to a particular part of his body. The only parts that did not burn as much as the rest.

"Because-"

He felt light. Lighter than he'd ever felt before. It was a feeling he'd only felt in practice, yet the time to use it was a lot closer than-

"Win or lose."

...closer than-

"My blood."

...than-

"Will forever be on your hands."

His eyes shot open.

And the world changed.

...

He stood in a field, the white frost of Regna Ferox nowhere to see.

The sun was out, grass and flowers bloomed, and the foliage could be seen going on for miles; not a cobblestone to see anywhere. Breathing in, he smelt the scent of spring, something he hadn't had the honor of since he left his home country all that time ago. The absence of pain should have been the first sign that something was wrong, the beauty of the field he'd found himself in was all too entrancing to think about anything else.

"Are you even listening to me?"

The voice snapped him out of his trance. Immediately, he remembered he was in a fight. A fight with a stranger that used the face of his lost past companion. An imposter who stole her face, voice, and implemented skills that went against everything the pacifist Ke'ri was. Gripping his blade, he spun, blade aimed to take the imposter's head off.

Only to force his blade to a stop at the neck of the one he called 'imposter, a term he wasn't so sure of looking at her now. Gone was the garb signifying her as a shinobi of Chon'sin. In its place was a familiar red kimono decorated with pink Sakura petals. Her hair no longer stood in a ponytail but was left to fall free down her back and shoulders. Make-up accentuated her looks like none other, and though she currently had a sword at her neck, the pout she wore never wavered.

"You weren't listening at all, were you?"

There was no way. There was... just no way this was real. This was fake. An illusion; sorcery! Ke'ri was dead. She died years ago. He witnessed it, right before his eyes. He avenged her, watching her killer bleed at his feet.

So what exactly was he seeing? And why did those words sound so familiar?

Before he even knew his lips were moving, words spilled out.

"Sorry. My, mind was clouded."

He knew those words, yet he couldn't have been the one to speak them. Though his lips moved, his mind was in too much turmoil to be the one to have spoken.

"Geez... You're, really gonna make me say it again...?"

The shy way of speaking, the fidgeting, the way she looked down to the ground and twiddled her thumps. There was no more doubt in his mind. This was her. This was Ke'ri. It could be no one else.

And this scene. Where were they, exactly? Looking around once more, it finally hit him.

She'd taken him here many times all those years ago. It was one of his favorite places to be when not fighting in the slums. There, on the Outskirts of Chon'sin, where the wind blew and the Sakura Petals danced, she would come here in search of him whenever she thought she'd find him here.

And she did, every time. He remembered her always bringing bento boxes to have lunch. She'd always have a story to tell about her family and siblings—and he would listen. He never particularly cared for any of her stories, but for him, a street rat with no family and was only good at swinging a sword, it was his favorite time of the day no matter what he told himself.

Yes, the memories were coming back. This was their favorite place to talk. It was their own peace to get away from the lives they equally hated. The very same place he last spoke to her.

Meaning, he knew the question she was going to ask next.

"If, I wanted to leave this place. Say, go far away. Start a life away from Chon'sin, or even Valm, would you, follow me?"

It was the question. The very same question she asked him the day before her death. The same question he was too much of a fool to even understand. A question he was a fool for not giving her a straight answer.

His lips moved again. And although he couldn't hear his words, he remembers his reply to this day. Words that he desperately wished he'd never said.

Her face fell, along with the mood.

Desperation kicked in, and he parted his lips to correct his traitorous lips, to give her the answer he should have given her all those years ago. To make up for wronging her and fixing the mistake before the inevitable happened once more.

Yet nothing came. Again and again, his mouth moved, but the syllables wouldn't form on his tongue. He wanted to yell it, scream it, anything, but he could do nothing. Instead, he looked into her eyes, hoping beyond all hope that the desperation on his face could speak the words his mouth wouldn't allow him to.

Her lips curled into a smile filled with sadness, and his body felt heavy. The smile was beautiful. One that he'd always thought of, despite never telling her. One that he wished he could protect for the rest of his days. If only he could see that smile every day, then he would have no more worries in his world because she would be his world.

Red exploded from her back.

A stream of life liquid sprayed from her back and turned her expression to that of shock. Her body fell forward, yet Lon'qu was incapable of moving. Eyes wide and breath caught, he could only stare as the woman known as Ke'ri fell lifeless to the ground, blood splattering around the grass and staining her kimono red.

And standing over her was a man. A man Lon'qu knew very well. The same man whose gang he personally hunted down. The very same man he swore he'd cut down with the fury of a crazed animal. A man he thought dead.

Yet, there he stood—axe in hand, and standing over the woman he swore to protect once again.

His world went red.

...

Lucina didn't know how she should feel, nor did she completely understand the end of the duel. Sir Lon'qu seemed to be building up what would no doubt be a skill powerful or quick enough to turn the tides of the bout. Power poured off of him in droves, and she was sure she was about to see something spectacular.

Then he stopped, along with the power he was previously building. His eyes stay wide, a glassy look in them as the lid of the pool he kept his power in slowly slid close.

Time ran out shortly after, making her teacher the victor. Yet, it didn't feel... right. Next to her, Khan Basilio hadn't even twitched. His face was placid, not giving away even a hint of what he was feeling.

But alas, his state of mind wasn't something she was particularly concerned over. A deal was made, and she hoped the Khan was a man of his-

A scream met her ear, loud and agonizing. A scream so loud and pained that the princess was sure it could wake the dead. Turning back to the two duelists, she saw Lon'qu already in front of her teacher, sword raised and clashing against the shinobi's own steel. Sparks flew and blow after blow sang as the Champion formally graceful swordplay was replaced by a savageness not too distinct from that of a bandit. Her teacher didn't look as if he was struggling to defend against the onslaught, but he no longer looked as if he was pulling his punches. If this went on much longer, then she was sure Naruto would-

"Sir Lon'qu!" Lucina cried out, stepping forward in hopes of stopping this madness. "The duel is over! Cease this at once-" A hand stopped her. Looking down at it before looking up, she saw the still placid Khan not even gazing in her direction, opting to observe the ongoing bout ahead of them. His position, however, did not stop the anger from rising inside her. "Khan Basilio! The duel has already concluded! Tell your Champion to-"

"Sit and watch, lad." His words came out sharp and cold, but the way he turned to her and the look she could see in his eyes made her comply. "Interfere, and I will be your opponent."

Biting her lip, Lucina gripped the hilt of sword before breaking the Khan's gaze and reluctantly sheathing her blade. Thoughts in her head that this was about to end horribly raged, but there was little she could do without potentially losing her life in the process.

And watching the fight before her continue only made her anxiety increase tenfold. Contrary to what you may believe, Lon'qu wasn't winning. The speed and power of his blows had increased significantly along with his durability. But as he gained, he also lost, particularly in the skill and strategy department. His blows were no longer well placed and accurate, and it showed in the multiple openings left in his guard; a particular example made when the swordsman went for an overhead slash and was rewarded with a jab to his throat followed by multiple well placed blows from the shinobi that left him staggered for but a moment before his onslaught continued.

Her nails tore through glove and skin as she desperately wished the madness would end.

'Please, surrender, Sir Lon'qu.'

The swordsman, despite his opponent being more skilled than he remembered, did not let up on his assault. A part of him knew that he was being sloppy—that he was needlessly leaving openings for his friend's killer in front of him to exploit—but a stronger force in his mind was directing all of his rationality towards his anger.

This man had to pay. He needed to suffer. There would be no justice until his guts were spilling from his cold, dead body. No amount of pain would be enough for the life he'd taken from this world.

A horizontal slash to his abdomen was a mistake Lon'qu was finally able to exploit. Getting close, he grabbed the arm under his armpit and threw a jab at his face. As expected, Ke'ri's killer blocked with his free arm but missed him reeling his head back.

His head met the killer's chin, and elation filled his heart. Feeling his arm again, he reeled back and sent a fist right into his mouth and nearly cackled when the killer stumbled back. His head and fist ached, but the sight of the murderer reeling back was almost euphoric! YES! He'd gotten his first blow! Now was the time to advance and open his-

A spinning hook kick to his chin snapped his head to the side and nearly sent him into unconsciousness. A flash of Ke'ri's glassy eyes had him snap back into reality to stand straight once more. Panting heavily, he glared down at the pathetic excuse for a man. One blow. One good blow was all he needed to turn the tides in his favor. One blow would slow him down enough for him to succeed in putting this monster down, and mindlessly swinging his sword would get him nowhere.

Calming his rage, he returned to his stance, mana beginning its buildup once more. His body radiated with power, and the best part was that his adversary opted to stand unguarded with that same mocking grin on his face.

He froze upon glancing lower. Somehow, between their bout, they ended up back where Ke'ri's motionless body lay. Her glassy eyes stared into his soul and momentarily brought back his sorrow.

Until he saw the leg hovering over her head.

Horror built in the pits of his soul.

The leg came down.

Lon'qu disappeared and reappeared before Ke'ri's killer, blade held low and fully prepared to completely bisect the man in half. In that second, that split second where he saw the killer instinctively move his blade into a reverse grip to deflect the attack, the swordsman knew he had won.

'Vantage'.

A skill most myrmidons strive to achieve but few actually accomplish. A skill Lon'qu was widely known for and a skill only one lived to talk about after. A skill so fast and precise that his opponents never even saw him or the blade move. The killer would now be added to that list, but Lon'qu wanted to make sure his next attack hit true. Upon swinging, mana manifested upon his blade.

'Luna'.

It would take a trained eye to see the blue shimmer, but the mana covering the katana wasn't just for visual appeal. The blade vibrated with the mana making the swordsman tremble as he tried to hold it all together. It was an unfinished, unrefined skill, but it mattered little to the swordsman. All that mattered to him was Ke'ri's killer dead at his feet, and he would do anything to see it realized.

And it would connect, no doubt. Luna was used specifically to cut through armor and steel. He didn't fully understand the science behind it, but the vibration of mana sharpened the blade, making it easier to cut through forged iron, steel, and even silver. It was highly dependent on the wielder's skill and mana control, leaving very little room for mistakes but very rewarding if successful. His foe was quick despite his girth, but speed meant nothing to this skill if you didn't have the same level of mana to defend from it.

The blades connected.

The haze of anger that clouded the Champion's mind cleared, Ke'ri's murder also shimmering out of existence. In his place, Ke'ri stood—kimono gone, short katana in hand, and a fierceness in her eyes befitting a warrior. Snow replaced the spring of his home, cold replaced the warmth, and, curiously, half a blade floated between them.

He was confused. One moment, his blade connected with Ke'ri's killer, and the next he was back in Regna Ferox fighting Ke'ri herself. His attention instinctively drew towards the flying blade that he recognized as half his katana. He couldn't even process how it was possible before Ke'ri's sword swung up.

Pain erupted from his chest, yet he couldn't feel it. He couldn't tell how deep the cut was, nor could he tell how much blood he'd just lost. The only thing that came to his mind was the thought that Ke'ri, his friend, the woman he dared say he might have even harbored feelings for, cutting him down.

His arms went limp, and his legs gave from under him, forcing him to his knees but never straying from the woman who had effortlessly bested him. Her sword came to rest on his neck, and the thought of Ke'ri, real or no, killing him sent a fear to his heart that no mortal man could explain.

"You are ruled by your fear." Her voice came cold, colder than he'd ever heard the woman, both past and present. "Warriors forge their bodies and minds to be the steel capable of protecting the ones we love, yet your sword is so filled with doubt and regret. If you are so easily controlled by your emotions, then you have no right holding a blade."

The words made him still. They hit home far more than any he'd ever heard. His weaknesses were his own, and he swore to overcome them. And yet, they still ruled him—his life, his sword, his mind.

Was he ever truly free? Had he really made no progress? And how can someone who knows nothing speak so casually of his struggles? Was it that plain to see? Or was this really...?

"I do not know what you've lost, but I'm sure whoever it was would want you to move on. They would want you to live the life they couldn't and not wallow in the misery of their passing." Ke'ri's brow furrowed as she softly spoke her last words: "If you cannot live for her, then live for her memory. For it is in passing that we obtain immortality."

They were wise words. Words he never knew he needed to hear. Words, to his shame, brought an emotion to his heart that he never wished to show to anyone. He knew not who this imposter was, how he made him see that memory, or why he wore Ke'ri's face, but she was right.

Ke'ri was gone, but her memory remained. He would never be able to apologize enough for her death, but he would never move on if he didn't honor the memory she left behind.

The sword left his neck, erasing the danger. At the same time, the shimmer that had replaced Ke'ri's killer with her began erasing Ke'ri's face from the imposter all together.

What was left behind after the haze was a woman who looked nothing like Ke'ri. Her vibrant blue eyes were replaced with dull brown, and her round face was now pointed. Her once rough features turned soft, while the lips were a lot less pointed. They... they looked nothing alike, yet he was sure this was the same person who had defeated him soundly. The smile the stranger's face gave him was now gentle-far more than Ke'ri's had been previously.

He wasn't even surprised anymore. Whatever witchcraft she used in the end, he still lost. His head lowered, both due to his emotions getting the best of him and to, hopefully, hide the smile that grew on his face.

"I, concede my defeat."

The time-traveler allowed herself to breathe once the swordsman had finally admitted his defeat. The bout was still one-sided, but what else did she expect from the man Naga herself favored... the same man who believed she was worthy of succeeding him.

The thought continued to haunt her. She would not have stood a chance against Lon'qu and that fact still ate at her. She believed herself ready to take on anything the future had to throw at her, but this one duel opened her eyes.

She would take in every lesson he taught from now on—no more complaining, no more questioning. If it meant she could equal or even outclass even the Champion of Regna Ferox, then she would keep her pride and misgivings to herself from now on.

Clapping cut through her thought process. Looking to her right, she saw a smirking Basilio walking towards the shinobi while those big, burly arms slowly applauded. Not wanting to be left out, she approached them as well to hear their verdict.

"Well I'll be. Knew you were somethin', but never thought you'd be an even bigger Gem than even my keen eye can see! Seems I've hit the jackpot once again! Can't wait ta see the look on Flavia's face once I'm reigning Khan again. HARHARHARHARHAR!" His good mood seemed to instantly be replaced by curiosity as he rubbed his chin at his new Champion. "Though, gotta say, your fighting style doesn't exactly fit the Feroxian spirit. Mind telling me what you did to my boy over there?" He pointed to his former Champion who was currently being looked at by one of his medical staff that was apparently on standby somewhere.

"Forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn, but there was nothing in the rules that specifically stated that I was to uphold any conduct or code of Feroxian honor. You agreed to my rules of combat while agreeing to both of our guarantees, which I followed to the letter. Therefore, no rules or code were broken in this agreement, and it is simply your own folly for making assumptions in a bet. Am I wrong?"

The Khan stared, mouth agape, at the shinobi who did not falter at his gaze. Most people would have the right mind to choose their words wisely in such a situation; especially when they were trying to gain favor from a diplomat. But most apparently never met a man who didn't exactly care if you were a diplomat or a common street rat.

Apparently, it was funny because the Khan laughed... again. "I'm pulling yer leg, Lass! Battle is no place for chivalry! As long as you're not poisonin' food before the tourney, then feel free to do whatever ya gotta do to win!"

"Your words are refreshing, Oji-san. They remind me a lot of home." The shinobi replied with a closed eyed smile.

"HARHAR! Stop it! Yer gonna make this old fool blush! I'd ask ya for a drink if I were into you prim'n proper types!"

The shinobi's smile twitched as he realized this overly innocent comment somehow turned into flirting. But the smile turned genuine as he could remember the one saving grace of being 'Haku'.

"I am far too young to be flirting with a man at your age, Oji-san."

"HARHAR! Can't blame an Ox for trying, yeah?" Leaving her side, the Khan placed a beefy hand on the disguised blonde's shoulder who barely reacted to the sudden contact. "Well, congratulations are in order! I got a new Champion, which means a perfectly good reason to celebrate!"

"We must decline, sir." The shinobi denied coolly. "Our current goals are finished here, but we have much more to do before-"

The hand tightened on the shinobi's shoulder, telling the shinobi that they weren't as out of the woods as they may have hoped.

"I insist."

A/N: For some reason, I've had this undeniable urge to write a One Oiece Fanfic of a self insert as Enel. It was to be a crack fic with multiple cross overs and to only end in like 200k words. Well, I spent an entire evening writing up ideas and put it into a story that I found was pretty decent. 20k words and 6 days later, I finished... and realized I'll probably never post it...

But eh, had fun writing it. Might post it one day as a One-Shot, but for now it shall stay where it belongs, in my archive :')

Originally, when I rewrote this story, it was Lucina who fought Lon'qu. In that fight, she would learn how outmatched she was compared to the Shepherds of today and was meant to show how despite future kids training, the past Shelherds were beasts in their own making.

Sadly, I lost that chapter a few weeks ago during editing... which meant I had to rewrite it... Thought about going the same route, but had this rough draft still available instead so decided to use it.

Lazy? Yes, but I can promise you the chapter would have been a MUCH longer weight seeing that this chapter wasn't particularly my favorite. So, tell me what you think and I'm ready to be crucified :')

Wanna take the time to give 2 particular shout outs along with answering questions from the last reviews.

Shout out to Have a Little Faith for his constant and unbiased critique! Really appreciate it!

Shout out to Dasgun for always sending a review... even if it isn't exactly words lol. You're still appreciated.

Review responses:

Have a Little Faith: You got banned for that?! Literally abused the Ike DLC till everyone were Gods so i think i would be on that cheater list as well if they were worried about levels. Can never lnow with nintendo :/

Guest: Maybr it was, maybe it wasn't. I know this isnt exactly a response, but can't say anything without spoilers. Will just have to sit back and wait for the future my friend :)

Also, keep the speculation of who Naruto ends with up. I love the chaos :)