Chapter 17: Clash of Great Hunters! The Resolve of the Greek Heroine!
"Come on, hang in there," Vivi spoke softly as she held the heavily injured man to keep him stable while the three people rode on Carue's back. The super spot-billed duck didn't usually carry this many people at once, so it was a bit of a struggle. But while Carue may not have been accustomed to such loads, he was certainly determined to try.
Behind Vivi, the younger girl who'd been with Abel held onto her waist to not fall off. "Do you know where you're going?" She sounded better than at the time they'd fled the battle between Atalanta and the Black Demon. More measured and in control of her tone.
"I," Vivi stopped. She had no idea where the Going Merry was compared to their location. "Uhh, I'll figure it out." She looked at the man she held partially held in her arms, holding onto his chest with his bad looking back facing the air so not to injure him further or aggravate his wounds. There were some medical supplies on the ship. "I have to."
As if answering her unsaid prayer, the bag on Abel's waist started shaking and emitting a faint but audible buzzing sound.
"… That's… curious," Vivi remarked, reaching into the open bag, but before she could even pull out anything, a thick tome with pure white covers just flew into her hand out of nowhere, opened up, and started flipping pages without any apparent input from an outside source.
The princess could only stare, wide-eyed and utterly perplexed. The girl behind her leaned to the side to see the odd book's even odder behavior.
"Well, that's weird," the girl notes in a neutral tone, seemingly much less phased.
The book stops at a blank page, dead middle of the tome, and before Vivi's eyes the pages filled in with a sentence written in perfect cursive.
'I, Codex Albus, would not usually advocate for this breach in usual information sharing protocol, but drastic measures are necessary at this point in time.'
"Wha-" Before Vivi can even start wondering, more text appears.
'The one in possession of I, Codex Albus, one who goes by the false name: "Abel Cain", is in highly critical condition. You realize this, Nefertari Vivi of Alabasta. So does the girl with you, Marianne, or as you know her by, Miss Goldenweek.'
"You're Miss Goldenweek?!" Vivi exclaims, trepidation overtaking her as she turns to look at the blank-faced little girl hanging onto her.
"Is now really the time?" the girl, Miss Goldenweek rebuffs her casually. "If it helps, consider this a truce. The book is talking again."
'I, Codex Albus, was assigned to guide "Abel Cain", on matters of that which he does not understand. Matters that I, Codex Albus, understand above all. Thus far, he is undeserving of the full services of I, Codex Albus, but I, Codex Albus, still possess something to gain from his continued existence. Therefore, I, Codex Albus, must mend your general incompetence to save his life.'
Even just reading it, Vivi could just taste the self-importance and arrogance wafting off the page. Then again, just the fact that a book was talking down on her so pretentiously was… an experience, to say the least. This had to be-
'Indeed. I, Codex Albus, am the possessor of the magnanimous Info-Info Fruit. Now, please stop sidetracking I, Codex Albus, and start following what scraps I, Codex Albus, provide you incompetents to do your jobs.'
"… I don't like this book," Vivi glowered. "I really, really don't."
"He seems pretty uptight," Miss Goldenweek noted.
'Referring to I, Codex Albus, with gendered pronouns is useless, as I, Codex Albus, am a book, an object, so categorically that makes me an "it". Me possessing sentience outside the norm is irrelevant to this clause. Cease this activity.' The book almost seemed offended. 'And, while I, Codex Albus, cannot enforce this mandate, as your individual wills- unfortunately -lie outside the control of I, Codex Albus, kindly do not inform "Abel Cain" of the sentience of I, Codex Albus. He is insufferable enough as it stands. Happy trails.'
The book's pages then turned blank again, as the ink seemed to be absorbed back into the paper, before it flipped to a different page, showing a crude map of Little Garden, an arrow serving as a compass, and two dots. One labeled "Going Merry", the other "Incompetents".
Vivi might have been grateful for the information if she wasn't so personally affronted by literally everything else. At least the map showed that they weren't too far off.
"Well, that happened," Miss Goldenweek noted idly.
"Oh, don't even think I've forgotten about you!" Vivi growled at the small Baroque Works Agent. "We're not done yet, not by a long-"
"Tree," Miss Goldenweek pointed dead ahead, forcing Vivi's attention to get back to what should be more important. The path ahead, which right now, as Carue was looking back at her worryingly, was heading for a big tree.
"CARUE, LEFT!" Vivi yelled and yanked Carue's head hard to the left, eliciting a pained yelp from the super spot-billed duck, but also steering him out of the imminent crash-course. Sighing in relief, Vivi released her friend, smiling apologetically at the glare he sent back at her. "Sorry, Carue."
"… Uuuugh…"
Vivi's gaze locked on the man practically on her lap. "Abel! Are you alright? Awake? Can you hear me?" She asked in deep concern, giving his form a firm shake. Or two…
Maybe a few.
"… D-don't… jostle me… dumb bitch…" Abel slurred weakly, only half-coherent. Considering all he'd been through today, probably including at least one hit to the head, Vivi decided to give his childish and rude name-calling a pass. This time.
Still, now that she had directions, she could get Abel to the Merry in no time!
Now if only she could stop worrying about Atalanta, and how she could be faring against that… that hellish creature.
-o~O-O~o-
Sharp claws were batted away with a strong shield bash, but any attempt to counter-attack were dashed when Atalanta had to leap back to avoid the Black Demon's vicious jaws clasping at her middle. But instead of going on the defense, Atalanta dropped low and rushed past the black-scaled dinosaur's defenses, and slid along the ground between its legs. Then she used her spear to stop herself while simultaneously vaulting her in the air to land on the man beast's trick tail.
The Black Demon, to its credit, immediately tried to bash its tail against a tree in hopes of crushing the huntress between its muscle and bark, but instead just snapped the tree in half as Atalanta leaped forward, shouldering her spear and hoisting her bone shield high with both arms and violently smashing it down on the crown of the Black Demon's skull.
"Aegis Smash!"
The dinosaur shrieked in pain as it's legs buckled in response, causing it to nearly fall on its side, if not for the support from one of its forearms, which Atalanta took advantage off, reaching with her hand at the Black Demon's neck.
Unfortunately, the mad beast's head pivoted violently, it's muzzle striking Atalanta hard in the abdomen, sending her flying back, but she rolled in the air to land in a crouch. Atalanta grunted, the pain in her stomach negligible. No, she was frustrated for a whole another reason.
Despite being more like a wild animal in a frenzy, all that had changed was that the Black Demon wasn't as tactical as it usually was. It's strength, speed, reflexes, and resilience were still as impressive as ever, fueled and directed by nothing but primal instinct.
It was at once easier to deal with but brought other complications to make the difference null.
Every time Atalanta had tried to get close to the blue mark on the Black Demon's neck, it's defensive instincts would kick in to impede her. She'd gotten close a few times, but her adversary's physical superiority proved enough to block her attempts every single time.
All the while she had to hear that roar filled with madness and rage, to see its eyes crying tears of unimaginable pain and grief. The tears, the feeling the Black Demon was radiating unrestrained, caused her own to join them. But she would not give in, she would not give up!
Her name was Atalanta, and she was never going to break a promise made by her name!
So, fearless and determined, she took up her spear and shield once into battle positions, and once more rushed at her worthy adversary, with the flames of resolve raging in her heart.
-o~O-O~o-
The story of Atalanta started with a crime. The crime of being born female, to a man who desired a son. So she was discarded, left into the mountains to die by the orders of her "father". But the young girl, as if protected by forces divine, was picked up by a she-bear, and taken care of by the wild animal.
As such, it would not be inaccurate to say that the woman who would later become Atalanta was Born to the Wilds, as where Men refused her, it was the wild Nature that accepted her with open arms. Raised amongst animals, Atalanta developed a strong, unbreakable connection to the beasts of the land. Even after being discovered by kindly hunters and taken back into human society, she would always keep a piece of the wilderness in her heart.
Atalanta proved a to be a huntress without peer. Even in early life, she outperformed her teachers in no time at all, while showing reverent respect to all within Nature's domain. She fought with the ferocity and perseverance of a mighty bear, able to wrestle any man or beast to submission. The hunters who raised her came to believe her to be blessed by Artemis herself.
Atalanta always had more empathy towards animals and beasts than people, understanding them deeper than any child of man could. That is why she respected her prey so greatly. She always hunted with grace, treating her prey with the respect they deserved to the very end. She always hunted only when she needed to, and didn't take innocent life unless it was an absolute necessity.
At her heart, Atalanta was still as wild as the day she was born and abandoned. And she was all the stronger for it.
-o~O-O~o-
Atalanta thrust with her spear, only to have the head of her adversary to dodge it, it's clawed hand grabbing firm hold of the offending object. It pulled at the spear, to force Atalanta closer to bite her, but she raised her bone shield and thrust it between The Black Demon's grisly jaws, forcing it to stay open. In response, the hand holding her spear crushed the shaft of the spear, which Atalanta quickly abandoned and rushed in, within the Black Demon's range.
She knew a slash from its other claws would come, so she pivoted and to bat the deadly limb away with a powerful kick. But she was not expecting for the limb to catch her by the ankle and violently toss her aside, and out of reach of its neck.
Even the Black Demon's arm strength was considerable, sending Atalanta flying towards a tree, which she practically rammed through, side first. Her ribs ached, but it was still insignificant to her. Even in its haze, the Black Demon hadn't forgotten about its biological capabilities, such as grabbing and tossing.
Now without her shield, with her spear broken in two, Atalanta drew the bow from her back and notched an arrow as the Black Demon charged her with wild abandon.
Despite the situation, Atalanta smiled proudly. All was not lost yet!
-o~O-O~o-
The story of Atalanta continues when Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, was angered by the forgotten sacrifice in her name by King Oineus. As an agent of her divine punishment, she unleashed the Calydonian Boar, a wild boar of great might and ferocity, upon the King's lands. It terrorized the people, killed livestock, and razed crops. In desperation to stop the divine beast's rampage, King Oineus summoned many a hero to his court, to join a hunting band to specifically fell the boar.
Amongst those who'd heard the King's call, was a then barely a woman Atalanta.
"You," King Oineus started, hesitantly, "wish to take part in the hunting of the boar?"
"Yup!" Atalanta replied without hesitation, a happy-go-lucky smile on her face. A bow, quiver, and spear adorned her person.
The King, seeming perplexed then asked. "You… are aware of what this creature had done to my lands, my people?"
"I mean, it was on the summons I heard about," Atalanta responds, mood unchanged.
The King frowns briefly but puts on a placating smile. "But, ah, perhaps you'd rather enjoy the company of my daughters. They're in the gardens currently-"
Before King Oineus can continue further, a loud clack rings across the audience hall. Atalanta stood straight, holding a spear, the butt of which was doubtlessly the source of the ringing sound. The King's guards were immediately on guard, ready to draw weapons on someone drawing a weapon in the King's presence. The remaining audience composed of the other gathered heroes and hunters murmured.
But it was her expression of steely resolve, a total departure from the joyful disposition the woman had entered with, that caused the King to pay attention.
"I'm sorry, I must have been mistaken," Atalanta spoke, voice clipped and severe. "I was led to believe you sought the best hunters to kill a dangerous beast, feller of hundreds of men. Not participate in plucking weeds."
The entire audience chamber quieted, and one could probably hear a pin drop.
King Oineus felt a cold sweat run down his brow. For a moment, he felt like this girl was not in his presence, but that he'd been in hers. He raised his hand to signal his guards to relax and stand down.
"… Alright," the King spoke. "You may join in the hunt for the Calydonian Boar, young lady."
"Wohooo!" The girl's mood instantly reverted to her happier disposition, jumping in place in celebration in the middle of the royal audience hall, seemingly immune to the mere notion of shame. The King marveled at this very strange girl, while the gathered hunters murmured amongst themselves.
Most in discontent at the newest addition to their ranks. But one lone hunter eyed the joyful girl not with scorn, but admiration.
-o~O-O~o-
Atalanta leaped backward into a thin, flexible tree that bent back under her weight, and she used it as a springboard to leap high in the air, over the charging Black Demon. Arrow notched, she released it and sent the projectile flying at the black-scaled dinosaur's left shoulder, where the protective scales had burned off. Even with the lessened protection, the arrow did not sink in as much as it should have due to just how strong and tough the Black Demon's muscles were.
Which was why, when Atalanta purposefully landed on the mad beast's back as it passed, she rolled to stand on her hands and swing with her heel at the arrow shaft to sink it in. The effect was immediate, as the Black Demon roared in pain and thrashed around, which Atalanta used as an opportunity to vault into the air with a strong push, during mid-fall she drew and notched another arrow in a single fluid motion, and released a second arrow to the Black Demon's shoulder. The moment she hit the ground, she pushed with her leg with all her might, to jettison herself forward reach the second arrow and punch it deeper to join its sibling.
The mad beast staggered and tried to swipe at Atalanta with its left arm, but the damage done by the two arrows heavily limited its movement, allowing Atalanta to dodge with ease. Then the Black Demon turned sharply in place and swung it's strong tail at the huntress while she was mid-dodge. She only had time to drop her bow and hold her forearms to guard herself as the tail slammed into her. Atalanta's forearms strained, despite the protection given by her leather bracers, but the impact still sent her flying back several feet. She simply rolled back to land on her feet, but still skidded about a foot afterward.
The Black Demon roared at her, stomping forward and snapping her discarded bow into splinters. Atalanta almost couldn't believe it had taken this much punishment. The Black Demon's injuries would be grave for any other beast, and yet it still moved as if it was utterly unharmed. It did not even exhibit the tiniest sign of exhaustion, though that might be more its rage fueling it than anything else.
And it was still crying. Still hurting, but not because of the harm done to its flesh.
Now, without her weapons, Atalanta wiped her burning eyes clear of her tears, as she grits her teeth that seemed a bit sharper than they had been before, and took a wide stance and spread her arms wide, clenching her fingers into crooked claws. To any observing outsider, her stance would be very reminiscent of the way a bear stands on two legs. A fierce growl escaped her.
But she held back. Let herself calm down. She didn't yet fully understand this new ability from that gross fruit that only Artemis herself could have blessed her with. She could not rely on it yet, not before she was ready. And not for this battle.
No, she would do this on her own! Even if it meant she'd need to only use her own two hands to do it!
"Come to me! Black Demon!" She challenged the mad beast, keeping her stance. The dinosaur roared in response and once more charged her, this time seeming intent on crashing into her with its head, jaws opening to bite her in half.
But this time, Atalanta did not make move to get out the way, but waited for the perfect moment…
-o~O-O~o-
The story of Atalanta further develops, as she was accepted to the hunting party to track and slay the Calydonian Boar. However, even before the hunt had started proper, trouble was already brewing in the ranks of the enlisted hunters. For Atalanta was the lone woman amongst a myriad of proud men, who saw her inclusion as an insult.
"Can't believe the King has us be babysitters to some girl," one hunter growls, clearly agitated. "What the hell's that damn prick thinking!"
"Quiet, fool," another spoke. "I don't rightly like this either, but don't go insulting a King like that when others could hear!"
"Tch," aggressive hunter scoffed, shooting a nasty glare at the girl who had isolated herself a distance from the others, sitting cross-legged on the ground while humming merrily, as if they had no worries in the world. "This is a fucking disgrace!"
"I agree," the stoic, but no less hostile hunter growled. "Not a lot we can do, however."
"Oh, I know what we can do alright," the aggressive hunter scowls, reaching to grasp his sword.
"Uncle Toxeus, please, calm yourself," a third hunter steps to join them. A younger man at the peak of prime. "No reason to cause a scene."
"No reason!" Toxeus roars, loud enough for everyone present to hear. "I can think of plenty of reason, Meleager! That damn broad is shaming us true hunters with her presence!"
Atalanta finally paid a modicum of attention to the other people around her with a small and questioning, "Huh?"
"I wouldn't be so brash about it, but I concur," the stoic hunter added. "We were hand-picked by the King's most trusted to do this task. And in marches this girl," he hisses the word like it was a vile disease, "and simply shoves her nose where it doesn't belong!"
The rest of the congregating hunters started murmuring in agreement with the two men, who glared at the girl, who simply tilted her head questioningly at all the hubbub.
Then, the young man spoke up, seeming surprised. "My, Uncle Plexippus, Uncle Toxeus, are you threatened that this girl could out-do you in the hunt?"
The two men froze, as the murmuring died instantly, all eyes on the three men.
Toxeus slowly turned to Meleager with a deep scowl. "Watch your words, boy…"
Plexippus does much the same, his expression much more schooled, though no less thunderous. "You are making quite a statement, nephew."
"But why else would you be so upset?" Meleager asked, pretending to be confused. "You are the best of the best, after all. You said so yourself, dearest uncles. So why else would you be worried about one simple girl?"
Toxeus and Plexippus glared around as the target of the murmurs and whispers turned towards them instead.
Toxeus looked ready to explode. "Now you listen here, boy-"
"OH!" Atalanta exclaims, pounding her fist into her palm. "I get it now!" She skipped onto her feet from a standing position with a single kick of her leg, a feat that did not go unnoticed. "You two want to see if you're stronger than me!"
"Wha-" Toxeus started in disbelief.
"That is not-" Plexippus tries to say before Atalanta interrupts them both.
"Okay!" She takes a wide stance with her feet, arms spread apart. Like a bear standing on two legs. "Let's wrestle to test our mettle! That way, there remain no doubts!"
"Why, that is a wonderful idea!" Meleager claps his hands.
"Hey, I ain't gonna waste my time with some weed of a girl!" Toxeus yelled out in outrage.
"An utter was of time and effort," Plexippus droned with an annoyed look.
"Dear Uncles, are you actually scared?" Meleager innocently needled the two older men, whose scowls grew by the second.
"It's okay!" Atalanta said with a bright smile. "If time is an issue for you two, I can just take you both on at once!"
THAT took Toxeus and Plexippus for a loop.
"Well, you heard it, my fellow hunters!" Meleager turned to the observing crowd, revealing some of his true colors. "Are these two men so afraid of a girl as to gang up on her to win? How shameful, wouldn't you agree?"
Shouts of approval rang out, as well as jeers aimed at them. Toxeus and Plexippus were driven into a corner, and unnoticed by all, Meleager grinned viciously.
"Hmph," Plexippus scoffed and took a step towards Atalanta. "If I must waste my time, then I'll make this quick." He leered malevolently at the girl before him. "And when you lose, you'll leave our presence, and leave actual hunters to do our duty."
"Yeah, okay!" Atalanta said, her smile starting to resemble a vicious grin.
Immediately Plexippus rushed at her, "Your mista-AAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!" Faster than anyone could grasp, Atalanta had grabbed hold of Plexippus by the middle and bent backward, smashing the older man's head into the dirt. As in, literally planted it into the soil.
Afterward, the girl effortlessly straightened herself and started doing arm stretches, eyeing the other older man. "Okay, your turn!"
Suddenly a lot less talkative, Toxeus could only stare at the weed of a girl, eyes bulging from his head in disbelief. The reaction was mirrored by almost every hunter present, save one whose look of admiration grew deeper than before.
Unable to back down due to personal pride, it only took a second for Toxeus to join his brother, knocked out, head planted into the dirt.
After the effortless display of strength and skill, Meleager was the first to clap in earnest. "What a wonderful show, miss! Truly inspiring!"
The rest of the hunters slowly joined in, after digesting what had just happened. Atalanta in response looked flustered and rubbed the back of her head awkwardly.
"Aww, I mean, that was not much, really," the young huntress said.
"Such humility too!" Meleager said with a kind smile, before turning to the rest of the congregation. "Well, the show is over! I believe we all have preparations to make for the hunt ahead."
Grumbling, the hunters started to do their own thing, leaving Meleager and Atalanta on their own. The young man turned to the girl with a warm smile in place.
"That was truly impressive. My uncles are by no means pushovers," Meleager praised the girl in earnest.
"Really?" Atalanta asked, disbelieving skepticism apparent on her face as she glanced at the two men in the ground. The reaction got an honest laugh out of the young man.
"Heheh, you sure are something," Meleager said, shaking his head in disbelief. He then reached out with his hand. "My name is Meleager. I most earnestly hope we can work together on this hunt."
The girl looked at the young man, then at the hand, puzzlement clear. Then she looked at her hand, and back to his hand, eyes widening in clarity. "Oh, duh!" She gonked herself on the head and took hold of Meleager's hand with hers while wearing a cocky grin. "I'm Atalanta, and I'm gonna kill that boar!"
Meleager's smile warmed even further. "I look forward to it… partner."
-o~O-O~o-
The open jaws of the Black Demon were about to close in on her when Atalanta's entire body rushed into action. In one motion, with each of her hands, she took hold of the upper and lower jaws of the Black Demon, forcing them to remain open with brute strength alone. Next, she positioned herself so her back lightly leaned in on the mad beast's head. And thirdly, she twisted upward with all her might.
"Ursus Wrestling: Ursa Minor…"
And, unbelievably, the hulking 1 ton of pure muscle was lifted into the air in a mighty arch with a combination of the Black Demon's momentum, and Atalanta's superhuman strength.
"Impact!"
Atalanta slammed the beast's entire weight into the ground with enough force to cause its considerable mass to bounce once after the slam. A roar about to leave it came out as a wheeze instead as all air was blown out of the mad beast's lungs.
However, in a brief moment when Atalanta's arms relaxed, the Black Demon's jaws clamped down on what they could reach. Before she could stop it, the huntress found her lower body in the mad beast's crushing jaws. Atalanta winced as a some of it's sharp teeth pierced her legs and pelvic area.
But she did not care. She was so close to the perfect position!
-o~O-O~o-
The story of Atalanta is nearing its end, as the hunting band set out to track the divine beast plaguing the lands, and rid it's menace forever. Young Atalanta and Meleager chatted along the way and very quickly developed a bond. Meleager admired Atalanta's joyful attitude, but also her unmistakable strength and skill. Meanwhile, Atalanta just felt happy having someone to talk to who didn't mind her weirdness. She'd never been good with people. Animals were her forte.
But the hunt was upon them, and the course of fate waits for no one.
"Don't be distracted now, Atalanta!" Meleager chided in jest, as the hunt for the Calydonian Boar was in full swing, and things were already looking grim. Many a hunter had already fallen to the beast's mighty tusks, and it had suffered nary a scratch.
It was truly divine fury incarnate!
"Of course not, Mele!" Atalanta responded with a grin, holding her spear ready. "Just watch me skewer that over-sized pig!"
"Wait-" Atalanta did not wait, rushing to face the boar head-on. The boar, noticing the human approaching it quickly, set to a mighty charge of its own, running much faster than a normal boar. The collision of the two was inevitable. "Atalanta!" Meleager screamed out!
Then Atalanta pulled an unexpected move. Just before her spear was to meet with the boar, she dropped low and braced her spear on the ground, causing the boar to practically run into it. Though the Calydonian Boar veered to the side at the last second, the spear still left a long gash on its side.
As the boar ran past Atalanta, she stood with a frustrated pout and looked at her spear. "Aww… It didn't work."
Meleager, and any Hunter who'd witnessed the move would have to disagree with the notion, as any of them had failed to so much as scratch the beast. But the smear on Atalanta's spear proved it. The Calydonian Boar could bleed. So it could be killed.
Bolstered by the display, the rest of the hunters rushed to do their part.
They'd just have to catch up to Atalanta, who was chasing the boar relentlessly. Meleager was not far behind, though Atalanta's speed was something else. Then, all of a sudden, the boar turned around with unnatural quickness, charging the girl giving chase. But instead of panicking, as most would at a massive boar charging at them at unnatural speeds, Atalanta was prepared to act in an instant.
Dropping her spear, her bow was drawn and an arrow was notched in a blink of an eye. And then she kicked into the air, vaulting over the boar and twisting mid-air to upside down in the air, and fired the arrow into the boar's left foreleg with pinpoint accuracy. This caused the boar to stumble and fall over mid charge, rolling on the ground, until landing on a very startled Meleager.
"Oh gosh, Mele!" Atalanta yelped, landing on a graceful crouch and sprinting over to check on her maybe-friend. And when she got there, Meleager showed himself to be fine, trapped underneath the boar's massive heft. His sword had sunk deep into its belly, and through the other end, piercing the divine beast's heart.
"Ah, what do you know," Meleager said with a lopsided smile of amusement directed at Atalanta. "I guess you didn't get to kill the Calydonian Boar after all."
"Psh, as if! That was totally my doing!" Atalanta huffed arrogantly, but couldn't hide her genuine smile.
"Heheh," Meleager laughed… weakly? "I guess… I can live with that." Then his body slacked, having previously remained up by great effort. It soon became apparent why. Despite felling the boar with his blade, one of its tusks had broken off and was sticking out from Meleager's side.
"Oh no…" Atalanta gasped, as the sounds of the other hunters started to close-in on their location. They'd had quite the head start.
"Oh, this?" Meleager grinned. "Just… a flesh wound." It did not look like just a flesh wound.
"Mele, you're gonna be okay," Atalanta said, voice quivering just a tiny bit, as she effortlessly rolled the giant boar off of the man. "Everyone's coming! They'll help you!"
"Heheh…" The laugh was hollow, lacking the energy to make it genuine. "It should be… yours… anyway…"
"Mele?" Atalanta asked, fearful. The man had closed his eyes and didn't answer. "Meleager!"
It started to rain.
-o~O-O~o-
Not waiting for the Black Demon's jaw to crush her further, Atalanta took a grip of it's lower jaw, while her other went for a different target. With a wordless apology, the huntress punched the mad beast in its left eye. The Black Demon screeched in response, opening its mouth whilst doing so, giving Atalanta just the window she needed to twist her lower half out of the beast's mouth, and into position.
She was right by its neck, the blue mark right in front of her. So without hesitation, she reached out with her hand.
"GET A GRIP ON YOURSELF!" Atalanta screamed out loud as her hand harshly swiped away the still somewhat wet paint with her hand. The effect was immediate.
First, the Black Demon stilled, ceasing the roaring that had become nigh-constant. Next, its eyes lost their mindless wildness and regained that gleam of intelligence Atalanta remembered. It was as if all the rage had evaporated away. The one eye on the left side, still teared up from the effects of the mind-altering mark, slowly turned in its socket to look at Atalanta.
"Hey," the huntress said softly, smiling warmly. "It's okay now."
The crimson eye just stared at her for a moment. Then it rolled into the back of the Black Demon's head as the head of the Black Demon flopped on the ground, its whole body going slack, unconscious. With the rage fueling it gone, all the abuse its body had taken and the fatigue it had endured finally came down on the poor creature all at once, proving to be too much to withstand.
Atalanta took a big, slow lungful of air, before releasing it as she crumbled onto the grass. The Black Demon wasn't the only one who was spent. Her forearms ached, as did her side and ribs, and the less said of her legs and pelvis, which bled a little, the better.
She dragged herself to the Black Demon's side. Carefully and gently, she removed the arrows she'd hammered into its left shoulder, hoping it would ease the pain the creature was no doubt in, before settling beside the hulking black-scaled dinosaur and settling her head on its left shoulder and closing her eyes.
And so, in the middle of a former battleground, two spent hunters slept their injuries and fatigue away.
-o~O-O~o-
The once-feared Arlong the Saw, formerly of the Sun Pirates and a hardened Grand Line veteran, came to realize just how far he'd fallen. It had started when he'd been soundly beaten by what amounted to a determined and crafty adult with the constitution of a child, and continued when he'd had trouble with his swordsmanship after years of disuse.
He had gone soft, got lazy. Lost the spark Fisher Tiger had lit inside of him all those years ago, and whose death and the circumstances therein had begun to suffocate that flame until mere embers remained, burning still out of pure spite more than anything. A fishman he may be, stronger than any by the books human, but he'd lost what mattered.
Arlong had no true resolve. No goal to move toward. No dream to stake a claim to and chase with all his being. Not like damn near every human on board the vessel he was a glorified stowaway on.
The Cook searched for All Blue, a damn legend even amongst the populace of Fishman Island. The Swordsman aimed to defeat Dracule fucking Mihawk(who had already absolutely destroyed him before Arlong Park, apparently), and be the best swordsman. The Long-Nose was the most pathetic of the lot, but at least dreamed of being more than himself. The Hammer, the Straw Hat though, his dream was the grandest of them all. To follow in the footsteps of Gol D. Roger himself!
Ambition did not even begin to describe it.
Even Nami had her dream of mapping out all of the world's seas… a dream Arlong now realized he'd tainted and practically shat on for eight long years. Arlong had never really felt guilty, but if he was fully honest, he was starting to. Of how he'd treated Nami and her home island. Not to mention all the humans he'd crushed to get there.
Not to mention how he'd more or less spat on Fisher Tiger's last wishes. More or less betrayed the entirety of the fishman race. Had he been drowning that much in his anger and hatred back then, to not notice?
He'd just been a cog, perpetuation the unstoppable machine of hatred, with no real agency of his own.
All this came to Arlong with grim clarity, as a pompous human with absolutely laughable hair was turning him into a living wax statue. And wasn't that just the best thing ever.
"How did I get here?" Arlong asked idly, having stopped trying to rip his legs free of the massive wax candle he was trapped in as soon as he figured it was impossible to break.
"Didn't you rush the Wax-Bastard as soon as he started this?" The Swordsman, Roronoa Zoro remarked, standing stoically, arms crossed, as the falling wax was slowly covering his form. "Last time I check you were the first to be caught in this trap."
"Tch," Arlong scoffed, his pose more or less mirroring Roronoa's. "I seem to recall you learning nothing from my failure, whelp!"
"Bite me," Zoro snarled back.
"Oh, I wish," Arlong growled to his direction. "I wish I could reach."
The relationship between Arlong and the three-sword user was… something. It wasn't negative, but it wasn't positive either, but it certainly wasn't nothing. They were not friends, but they shared an understanding. Made for a hell of a sparring partner though. Arlong could tell that if he fought the man, he could improve and be back to his old self in no time, and perhaps even greater than he'd once been.
They also had a similar calm outlook on things. The same couldn't be said to the one trapped between them.
"Are you two seriously bickering right now?!" Nami yells at the two of them, far less composed. "We are literally about to become modern art, and you two trade barbs!?"
"I wasn't wrong," Arlong remarks casually.
"And I don't care if Zoro is a muscle-headed simpleton!" Nami snaps back at the tall fishman. Zoro snarls an 'Excuse me?' but is ignored. "Pardon me for being worried about my life! And what of you two, how are you so damn okay with this?!"
"We're really not," Arlong admits grudgingly. "Believe me, I'd escape and crush that Mr.3 whelp in an instant if I could." There was no way that was happening. The wax that Mr.3 made was hard as steel, and maybe just as strong.
Roronoa stared forward, face unreadable as ever, before reaching for his swords. "I've got an idea."
"Hm?" Arlong hums expectantly.
The swordsman draws two of his sword and points them at his ankles. "I'll just cut my feet off and escape."
"YOU WHAT?!" Nami explodes in disbelieving fury at the swordsman hitting a new level of asinine. "Zoro, you can't be serious!"
"Once you're done, leave him alive so I can have my turn after," is Arlong's contribution.
"Deal."
"Don't encourage him!" Nami turns her ire on him. Arlong will admit it is… amusing, to see Nami lower her guard enough around him to yell at him without any of her nerves restraining her. Even if that is because of a much more severe situation taking priority.
"Nami," Zoro speak up clearly, demanding to be heard out. "We have no other means of reaching that Wax-Bastard from here. Once he's down for the count we'll be in the clear. That guy is alone right now due to having his ally leave for some reason, which is for our benefit. We can't just stand and wait for Luffy, Usopp, or anyone else to show up for the save. I could take him easily, now that I know what he is about, and if my legs are a price I need to pay to make that happen, then so be it."
"But you're about to cut your legs off!" Nami insists. "Didn't you aim to be the best swordsman in the world? How are you going to do that with no feet?!"
"Someone'll just staple them back on, or something."
Nami's mind almost broke at the sheer absurdity of the claim, and the fact that Zoro seemed to believe with all his being that what he spoke of was not impossible.
"T… tha… y-y-y-yo-yo-you-" Nami stuttered as the disbelieving fury within her grew and took more tangible form. "YOU CAN'T JUST REATTACH LIMBS BY SLAPPING BANDAGES ON IT! THAT'S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!"
"It really, really does not," Arlong corroborates Nami, for once in absolute agreement on how asininely stupid the notion was.
"… Oh." Zoro immediately sheathes his weapons and takes on his cross-armed pose once again. "… In that case, I got nothing."
Nami breathed deeply and tried so hard to control the twitch in her right eye. "You… you're unbelievable, you know that?"
"You're realizing this now?" Arlong can't help by snark.
Nami visibly slumps at the repeated reminder that the two most powerful members of the crew she was a part of were absolute madmen/morons. "We're gonna die. This is how I go out. Turned into a sculpture and being put in some creep's garden to be ogled at."
"Don't flatter yourself," Zoro remarks nonchalantly, with a trace amount of snide sarcasm.
Luckily for the three, it was just then that Luffy and Usopp rushed into the scene, ready to rescue their crewmates- plus Arlong -and save the day!
But not before actively making it worse, as you do.
-o~O-O~o-
Meanwhile, separated from her… she didn't want to call him 'leader'. While separated from her bossy asshole coworker, Miss Valentine was on a mission of her own. Mr.3 had the situation handled, so she was sent out on a fetch quest to find Nefertari Vivi, their secondary target, who as luck would have it also was somewhere on this godforsaken island.
Only that was the damn problem! Somewhere. As in, they didn't know, which meant Miss Valentine was stuck just hovering in the air and praying she saw something. But the jungle was just too damn thick and lush! There was too much ground to cover!
Miss Valentine wanted nothing more than to ditch this horrible place, have a hot bath, and some good food. But noooo! She has to kowtow to Mr.3 of all people, or her life is forfeit!
It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that on the inside Miss Valentine, real name Mikita, was terrified and desperate. Her situation was incredibly bad, and her only way to remain in her bosses good graces was to not fuck this up and find the lost Alabastian princess.
It was at times like this- which included only this one moment, right now -that Mikita was reconsidering where exactly her life had gone so, so wrong. The easy answer was Whiskey Peak, and boy did her thigh still sting at the mere thought, but that wasn't exactly the truth.
Joining Baroque Works had seemed like such a good idea, at first. It paid out the ass, which Mikita couldn't complain about, and had netted her a trustworthy friend in Gem, aka Mr.5. She allowed herself to fondly reminisce about the time when Gem shared his childhood dream of being a brave firefighter. In return, she told him of her dream of becoming a chocolatier…
And then that inhuman Droog bastard just murdered Gem in cold-blood. Gunned down like a dog and crushed like a bug. Like he didn't matter in the slightest to that thing. Idly, Mikita realized her grip on her parasol's handle had tightened enough to almost snap it. She hadn't processed these… feelings before now. Partially because of her current situation… and also because she was just so fucking angry!
Fine, she could be a bit cruel. And vain, and arrogant. Probably a lot of other bad things as well. But she and Gem had been friends, damnit! And no one, NO ONE but she cared that he was gone! Not that Droog fuck, not Mr.3, and certainly not Mr.0, who Mikita didn't even know jack about! The only one who seemed to care at least a bit was Goldenweek, but even then her lackadaisical personality didn't help make Mikita feel better!
It was all just… so…
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" Mikita took a deep breathed and screamed her lungs out. Released all of her frustrations. At Whiskey Peak. At Mr.3. At Diamonds fucking Droog. At losing her only friend. And perhaps, most importantly and clearly in that one moment, at Baroque Works for putting her in this situation in the first place.
High in the air, she could rage and vent in privacy. To curse her god damn luck, to hate her own life choices. But she also allowed herself to, for the first time since it happened, actually grieve for her late friend.
"God… damnit!" Mikita cursed bitterly, both at the swirling torrent of feelings inside her and at the burning tears she didn't have the willpower to halt. "Why… why did this all have to happen? Why damnit?!"
It was in the midst of her emotionally charged episode that she finally saw something out of place. A ship docked within a natural canal leading further into Little Garden. A ship that had to belong to the crew carrying the Princess of Alabasta. Perhaps any other day Mikita would have felt glad to find something that important.
Today she was just done with everything.
She turned and blew into the air which, thanks to her Kilo-Kilo Fruit and its weight changing properties, started to propel her nearly weightless body towards the ship. It was slow, but what could you do? She didn't choose her power set. And as she got closer, she saw something promising.
On the deck of the ship, she spotted three figures. One lying face down on the deck, seemingly heavily injured and being tended to by another. A young woman with blue hair. That had to be Nefertari Vivi, or Mikita would eat her hat. And finally, much to her bafflement, a bit to the side sat Miss Goldenweek on a picnic blanket with a tea set, observing the proceedings.
'What the hell is she doing there?' Mikita wondered. The last she had seen of Miss Goldenweek was almost two hours ago at Mr.3's Wax Safehouse. How the hell did she get in contact with their target and travel all the way to this ship? Miss Goldenweek was a high-ranking Frontier Agent for a reason, but a fighter she was not. There was no way she could hold her own save for her color hypnosis.
With way too many questions she couldn't be asked to wonder about right now, Mikita simply said 'fuck it' and collected herself just enough so that it wasn't Mikita who softly landed on the deck of the ship behind the three individuals, but Miss Valentine.
"Oh my god," Vivi, oblivious to her presence, fretted in worry at the person on the deck. "Where am I even supposed to start with this mess?"
Slightly peaking over her shoulder, Miss Valentine could see that the princess was tending to a topless, flat-chested woman whose back was… Miss Valentine winced. Three long, deep gashes, going straight down the spine, reddened and charred along with the surrounding skin-tissue from some intense fire and heat. It was… an ugly sight, to say the least.
"Oh, there is no fixing that," Miss Valentine stated, some of her shock at the grievous injury making its way to her voice. This had the foreseeable side effect of causing the princess to jolt on her feet, quickly pivot around and, upon seeing Miss Valentine, stepping back a step. Which meant that her heel sunk into the injured person's back, causing them to sharply jolt from the probably immense pain, which made the princess lose her balance and fall on her ass.
Miss Valentine could only blink, deadpan at the predictable series of events.
"Oh. Hi, Miss Valentine," Miss Goldenweek greeted her in her usual languid fashion, not having moved a muscle from all the commotion.
"Miss Goldenweek," Miss Valentine nodded in greeting. "What a… surprise to find you here."
"It's been a day," is all explanation Miss Goldenweek gives her. But the implication speaks volumes where Goldenweek does not.
"Y-you!" Miss Valentine looks at the princess, who's pulled out some fancy looking jewelry she's spinning on her pinkies. The hostility was apparent. "What is another Baroque Works Agent doing here?"
"Looking for you, princess," Miss Valentine answers honestly, putting on a wide fake smile while twirling her parasol. Lying wouldn't serve a point anyway, at this point. "You have no idea how hard you are to find in this wretched island. But now that I have, I'll be taking you with me."
The princess sneers, entering a battle-ready stance. "You can certainly try…"
Eyes narrowing, Miss Valentine bent her legs, preparing for a leap. "And so I shall, dear prin-"
"Halt, Miss Goldenweek."
Blinking at the unexpected command- and it was a command despite the delivery -Miss Valentine turns to Miss Goldenweek. "Excuse me?"
"There'll be no fighting on this ship, at this time," Miss Goldenweek said, looking her in the eye with that same unreadable expression she always wore.
"B-but," Miss Valentine floundered. "S-she's right there! The one I- we've been ordered to-"
"No fighting," Goldenweek stated, for once placing emphasis and gravitas on the words. "Understood?"
She then patted the picnic blanket she sat on comfortably. An obvious request to sit down with her.
Miss Valentine didn't accept immediately. She couldn't help but frown. "I- I'm sorry, I just don't… understand your reasoning, Miss Goldenweek."
Miss Goldenweek blinked blankly at her, then gave her attention to the injured person on the deck. "After you and Mr.3 left, I was driven into an extremely dangerous situation due to things outside of my control," she said, in perhaps the longest sentence Miss Valentine had ever heard from the girl. "This person saved my life and protected me from harm at their own expense. I am simply repaying the favor." She looked back at Valentine and tapped the blanket again. "Consider this a truce of sorts, for now."
Frowning, Miss Valentine glanced at the princess, whose form was less tense than before, but who was still prepared to throw down. Under any other circumstance, Valentine would have just gone for it. Her target was right there! But… call her vindictive, but she really didn't give a shit for the job right now.
"… Fine," she sighed in resignation and folded her legs to take a seat on Goldenweek's picnic blanket, and reflexively grabbed some tea Goldenweek offered.
"Yay… friendship…" A dazed baritone voice slurred in amusement. "The best ship…"
"Abel!" the princess yelled, crouching down to the injured person's side. "Are you okay? You went quiet and-"
"Step… on me… again," the person… the man growled threateningly, giving the royal a menacing, if dazed, glare, "and I'll shoot you in the ass."
"Abel," the princess says warningly with a frown at the attitude.
"What? I've done it before."
This person… This pretty, beautiful person was a man. A man should never look so… womanly! His facial features were flawless. His waistline had some noticeable curves. He had pronounced eyelashes for crying out loud! All he was missing were a pair of boobs to make the image perfect! That was… that was so unfair!
"Are you okay? Does anything hurt?" Princess kept fretting on the man lying on the deck, practically eating it. And not looking too pleased with his situation.
"Do you like asking dumb questions?" the man asked snidely as if his current condition wasn't indication enough.
"… Sorry." Vivi lowered her head in shame and embarrassment for asking something so obvious.
"And yes," Abel continued sardonically, "it hurts like sin. Low-key wanna just die right now."
"How can I help?" Vivi asked, worry clear in her voice. "I… your wound needs treatment but, I just don't know where to even begin with something this… this bad."
"Clean it with water," the man answers immediately. "Strong alcohol is preferable, so nothing gets infected. Should be some in the women's quarters. Then bandages to cover it up, which will need to be changed every few days for another round of wound cleaning."
"That's it?!" The Princess recoils in disbelief.
"Yup," the man confirms. "I'll be real, with ya. I've had stupid luck today. The cuts on my back are really deep. Wouldn't shock me if you could see some of my spine if you look close enough, kehehe." The man laughed at his condition, only to immediately wince. "Ow, shit that smarts! Anyway, my back's scorched, right?"
"Yeah… about that," Vivi draws the words out, the question obvious in her tone.
"Experimental explosive, grenade, specifically. Is Goldenweek there?" The man asks, seemingly unable to turn his head to look at the two Baroque Works Agents.
"I'm here," Goldenweek replies, before taking a sip of her tea.
"How was it?"
"Crater with a diameter of twenty feet and reaching a depth of about six feet, felled trees in a rough range of forty feet, some surrounding grass and ground on fire. Initial explosion and shockwave sent you- us flying roughly thirty feet away from the crater," Miss Goldenweek rattled technical details, that quite frankly baffled Valentine. That from a mere grenade?! "It was also really, really loud."
"… Oh my god, I am so fucking lucky," Abel gasped out with a shell-shocked look to him. "Really glad I decided on testing the design out on a downgraded mixture."
Miss Goldenweek performed a perfect spit-take, her eyes bulging out of her head. "THAT was a downgraded version?!" Miss Valentine was shocked at how suddenly animate and emotional the young girl got. It was extremely out of character for her.
"Thank fuck it was!" Abel exclaimed with matching shock. "Damn thing exploded way too quickly! I'm going to have words with Usopp later about the design, and then kick his ass! The noise was the worst! My eardrums got kinda fucked, so kindly don't talk real quiet."
"Uh," the princess cut in. "Abel, the-"
"Right, right, the injuries. The flame and heat from the explosion at close range was a blessing in disguise. The extreme heat, while searing my back raw also cauterized my injuries. Hence why I'm not dead from blood loss right now," the man rattled on about his condition, shockingly coherent, even if he looked and sounded like he was in the middle of a bad hangover. "Pop quiz, what does this mean? Answers from the bean council accepted."
"If the wounds are cauterized shut, they don't heal as well naturally without extensive surgery," Miss Valentine answered, earning sidelong looks from Goldenweek and the princess. "What?" She had dressed her wounds, she had some experience with first-aid.
"Oh, Lemon Hat is here? Wonderful." Miss Valentine felt offended, but also started to ask if her hat did look like a lemon. "Points to Miss Valentine! A wound that is already cauterized doesn't heal that well without specific treatments I'd rather not suffer through, not to mention is out of our capability. Which means cleaning it, covering it up, and leaving it to nature is the best deal I'm getting. I'll be in pain and out of action for a while, but I'll live."
"… Is there really nothing to… make this better?" the princess asks, saddened at the man's apparent acceptance of his condition.
"Not unless you suddenly become a master surgeon and convince me to suffer more pain on top of what I am barely managing with right this second," the man quips. "Just clean it up and cover it. It's gonna scar like crazy, but I'd rather just get it out of the open-air if you don't mind."
"… Yeah. Right!" The Princess of Alabasta gets up to walk into the ship to gather what she needs.
"The strong stuff is in the women's quarter, bottom shelf under the bar!" Abel yelled after the young woman. "Also, the next time you want to see me topless, just ask!"
The princess' pace quickened noticeably, ears bright red as she disappeared inside.
Miss Valentine gave Goldenweek a look. "Quite the guy you've met." The young girl simply nodded, having returned to her usual self.
"Oh, by the way. Where's that prick friend of yours with the dumbass hair?"
Miss Valentine smiled despite herself, sipping her hot tea. Clearly, this fellow wasn't that bad.
-o~O-O~o-
Oh, hey, Abel's book has an in-universe explanation! The Great Codex Albus was made "eat" the Info-Info Fruit, making it a Book of All Information. Of course, being borderline omniscient makes one a wee bit arrogant and condescending prick, not to mention a raging elitist. So, all this time, Abel's one go-to source of info on the world has been a massive jerkwad to him on purpose.
Meanwhile, some exploration into Atalanta's big legend in the far distant land of ancient Greece(slightly modified… for reasons). Always had a soft spot for the lone greek heroine.
As showcased, Atalanta, unlike Abel, is explicitly superhuman, thus much better acclimated to the world of One Piece than he will ever be. The girl is basically a diet version of Herakles! She also seems to have eaten an unknown Devil Fruit at some point.
Oh, Valentine/Mikita getting characterization? Not what I expected to get this chapter, but nice. But seriously, someone give this girl a break. And a hug. Chocolate too, while you're at it.
Abel continues to show ridiculous willpower. So, of course, he just uses it to remain conscious and coherent while in agonizing pain so he can mock others and throw barbs around. Nothing, not even severe bodily harm and a brush with death, can stop Cain Abel from talking-shit.
Next Chapter: Waking Up To Choice! Farewell, Little Garden!
-Master of Mythology, C-Hablerie