THE NIGHTMARE - FACET VIII
As soon as the band began to play, one of the pirates stuck in the theatre snuck around the guards and bashed him behind the head with a beer bottle.
That act of violence created a chain reaction of chaos within the club. People started running in every direction! Civilians and aristocrats started running for the kitchen exit. Meanwhile, the unruly and disgruntled started rushing the city guard. And other idiots began to fight among themselves, punching braggarts they had a problem with. It was an all out bar-fight!
The guardsmen tried pushed back against the mob. Their shield wall rippling as they tried to move forward.
Saga and Maxwell pointed their focus towards Gasparde and Helsing. When the fighting broke out, Helsing seemed chose that moment to try and rabbit out of the club. However, Gasparde gave chase, not forgiving the attempted double-crossing.
The mage and the swordsmen weaved through the crowd, trying towards the stairs leading to the second floor. They avoided the brawlers, the thrown bodies, and glassware people were chucking around the club. People were even running down the steps, tripping over themselves as they became awash in the tide of escapees.
Maxwell conjured a Winter rune, loading the Fade Step spell. Maxwell was telling himself, "It should work this time!" with his new prosthetic substituting the missing mass from his forearm. It just wouldn't be as mana efficient.
Both men entered the circle, running. Max and Saga turned into mist and rocketed up the stairs. They passed through humans who jerked to a halt, their brains not computing what their eyes were seeing. To the naked eye created more of a backlog on the steps. People toppled over like dominoes when others crashed into them. But, Saga and Maxwell made it through!
"IT'S HIM! IT'S THE MAGISTER!" one of the soldiers called out over the shield wall. "HE'S HEADING UP TO THE SECOND FLOOR!" Clearly, Bellos had told his men to keep an eye out for Maxwell. No doubt he wanted the satisfaction of apprehending Helsing herself.
They might not get the chance though! As soon as Max and Saga reached the second floor, they were witnessing Gasparde and Helsing wrecking the second floor. Chairs and tables were destroyed as they played their deadly game of Cat and Mouse. Helsing was darting around the furniture, trying to use them as obstacles between her and Gasparde.
His entire arm had transformed into a gelatinous green spiked club. Gasparde was using it to crush and bat away those chairs and tables to get to her. That wasn't all though. From his liver side, thin hardened green spikes shot out from Gasparde like quills, trying to harpoon the ginger malcontent. Those, Helsing had to duck away to hide from!
Max and Saga dashed forward, needing to save Helsing before she could get brutalized! They feared they might not make it though, Gasparde had already corralled Helsing into a corner, cutting off any chance of escape!
…But then Maxwell saw Helsing pull out a sack of powder from behind her dress! It was both a complication and a relief. Helsing was going to try and disappear again!
Gasparde wasn't having it though. Just as Helsing threw down the crystal powder, Gasparde thrusted his hefty hand-club limb at the woman like some oversized fist! His arm stretched out, punching straight the wall, and creating a massive hole in the gentleman's club.
Gasparde reshaped his arm back into a regular limb and looked down over the edge of his newly made balcony. He HAD punched Helsing! But it had felt like punching cotton.
"Tch!" He saw Helsing land on her back into a wagon of hay bails. Shaken, but still very much alive.
"Saga! Think you can take him!?" Maxwell asked his companion as they rushed for the hole.
"Yeah! Just tell that geezer to give me my sword back!" Saga told the mage.
"Agreed!" Maxwell replied, sending a mental message for Mordred to relay. "Now! One! Two!"
"THREE!" Saga yelled back as both Max and Saga tackled the enormous pirate.
"OOF!" All three of them fell through the gap in the wall. Gasparde hadn't expected to be tackled just after losing his opponent.
Helsing herself looked up after shaking her head. She gasped as she saw three more figures falling toward her and speedily tries to get out of the wagon!
She doesn't make it out though. Maxwell, Saga, and Gasparde all fall into the cart, breaking it, and exploding the hay into a cloud of straw. Hay bails lay broken and scattered, turning the wagon into a giant pile of straw and splinters.
Helsing was the first to emerge from that pile, gasping for air. Breathing felt like she had swallowed a jar of needles. Bits of straw littered Helsing's hair and her skin itched with agitation. Her snake, Alucard, slithered up behind her, not appreciating the texture.
They thought they were safe for a moment. No one else was climbing out of the straw pile. But then the hay exploded with an eruption of goo, and Maxwell and Saga were thrown out!
Saga landed on his feet, drawing his tanto as he looked back towards the straw pile. Maxwell simply rolled as he landed, tucking his arms in until he rolled to a stop.
The blob of candied goop congealed, reforming back into the gigantic form of Gasparde. He patted his jacket, trying to scrape the hay of his arms. He shook his legs, stepping out of the straw pile. Bits of straw grew and spat out of Gasparde like angry green zits, his body expelling the farm contaminants. And he was PISSED!
"…Who. The. Hell. Are. YOU!? Do you know who I am!?" Grasparde pointed at himself. A throbbing vein appeared on his forehead, his wrath promising pain and torment for this transgression.
"I AM GENERAL GASPARDE! CAPTAIN OF THE GASPARDE PIRATES! YOU IDIOTS HAVE A LOT OF NERVE TRYING TO ATTACK ME FROM BEHIND!"
"Wait, this is Gasparde?" Saga looked up and down, observing the pirate. He remembered that assassin, Shuraiya, and those drunken thugs from last night. THIS was their captain! "…I'm not impressed."
Now that he thought about it, Saga recognized Gasparde from the wanted posters. He remembered talking about the bounty with Lieutenant Commander Drake, back when Saga ran the dojo.
Gasparde was originally a Commodore stationed at Marineford, and was later revealed to be one of the most most despicable individuals the marines had ever recruited. Gasparde had a reputation of being cruel, a bully, and the investigation revealed just the depth of how corrupt he was. He was taking bribes from marines and pirates alike. Only so long as it benefited him.
Then one day, word got out that the navy had confiscated the Ame-Ame Fruit. A Logia Devil Fruit said to be able to control, and make the user like, candy. Charolette Perospero, eldest son to Charolette Linlin, was said to have a similar ability with the Lick-Lick Fruit. Only, his power came from a Paramecia, and was limited to manipulating it. Among the Big Mom Pirates, he had been a menace for decades. So lot of marines were relieved when they heard the news about this fruit.
And then, Gasparde went ahead and ate it! He was a part of the protection detail, escorting the fruit back to Marine HQ. Gasparde had staged a mutiny, killed Rear Admiral Yukimura, and commandeered the ship, declaring himself pirate. With the Ame-Ame Fruit, Gasparde believed himself to be invincible!
However, the former Commodore had proved to be a coward when he was chased into the Grand Line. He fled from the South Blue when Vice Admiral Johnathan led the a fleet to arrest him. Unfortunately, Gasparde escaped when their ships encountered a Sea King nest in the Calm Belt. Vegapunk hadn't yet developed the Sea Prism Ship Coating technology when Gasparde was a marine, so it was miraculous that even both ships survived.
From then on, Gasparde was declared to be a wanted criminal, with a bounty of 95,000,000 beris. He was later give the epithet, "The General," and was considered, "The Greatest Stain to the Marines."
"Got to get out of here…!" Helsing immediately turned tail and ran, kicking off her high heels.
"Trevelyan! Go after her!" Saga jerked his head quickly, indicating to the woman. He would fend off Gasparde while Maxwell captured Helsing.
"Right!" Max quickly scrambled to his feet and started chasing after Helsing. He conjured a Winter glyph and immediately ran through it, turning into a cloud of racing vapour.
Gasparde grinned despite the absurdity of his opponent, "Heh! You think you can take me on with that little toothpick? You should have kept your friend around. At least he seemed to have some semblance power!"
"I don't need Trevelyan's tricks in order to cut you down." Saga held his tanto out, steady, in a reverse grip. "My name is Saga of Shimotsuki Village. And I know a great many of people who would celebrate your death, Zheng Gasparde."
That name gave Gasparde pause, "…It's been a while since someone said my family name… And Saga… Saga…" Gasparde pondered of the name, tasting the syllables on his lips. "Ah! So you're the little pipsqueak who decided to humiliate my underlings last night. Shuraiya hasn't reported back either, so he's either dead or turned into a coward."
Gasparde started studying the swordsman more carefully, assessing the silverette. Grinning, he spoke, "You're strong. And you know what, I appreciate strength. I might be even willing to overlook your transgressions. IF you join my crew."
"Hmph!" Saga scoffed, "I've seen the kind of men you have among your crew. I wouldn't fit in even if I tried. They're pathetic, just like their captain."
Gasparde's eye twitched, losing his malicious grin. Now there was only a scowl, "Big words coming from a dead man." A throbbing vein receded into his hairline. This brat was going to suffer!
*SCREEE!*
An eagle's caw pierces through the night air.
Buzz, in his full feathered form, swoops down above the street. His body was absolutely enormous, for an eagle! In his talons were Maxwell's staff and focus, clutched in one claw, and Saga's sword held in the other! Buzz releases his hold on the Shichiseiken and let's it drop from on high, right above Saga's head.
Saga reaches out, grabbing the handle of his sword as it falls and flings the sheath away with a swiping flourish. The Shichiseiken glows red, jewels ready to taste blood as the steel rings in anticipation.
Saga stands there at the ready. Like a blackened shadow against a blood red sun.
A dark star that shines, eclipsing the night.
O O O
Meanwhile— "Thanks Buzz!" Maxwell willed his foci toward himself as the staff and skull fell from the cap wearing bird. Mordred's skull joined the rest of the anchors as the belt beneath Maxwell's sash fully revealed itself. Maxwell grasps the staff in his good hand and collapses it back down to a mace. He quickly holsters it into its thong as he had to keep running!
Max had been chasing Helsing through the red light district. The street was full of colourful lights and bystanders. Some were groups of men on a tavern crawl. Others were gaggles of gals looking to dance the night away. Occasionally, there was even paramour plying their trade around a street corner. All of them were in states of dress Max wouldn't be caught dead it, but ultimately that mattered little.
"Damn it!" Helsing accidentally collided with a party goer, but kept running. She was barreling down the street, pushing and shoving people aside as she ran. Sometimes her pet serpent would hiss and make people step back, but that was only when Alucard was watching them.
Maxwell didn't stop to apologize. He was jumping, weaving, and magicking his way down the sidewalk, following in Helsing's wake. Maxwell couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop running, or else he risked losing her in the streets and tonight would have been for nothing!
He was gaining on her! …Though a slower pace. "Come on!" Helsing was quite light on her feet! That only came with years of experience trying to escape pursuits like these.
The only magic Maxwell dared use was the Fade Step. Any other spell, and he would have had to slow down—! And Helsing already had quite the head start.
Max saw her turn a corner, and immediately hastened his legs to go faster! He was NOT letting her get away!
The mage used the Fade Step to glide into the new road. Alucard had dropped down from his mistress's shoulders while Helsing tried to prying open a manhole cover. She was going to try and escape through the sewers!
Maxwell quickly draws his staff, briefly twirling it in his hand, before stamping it down!
"AHHH!" Ice erupts from the sewer grate, trapping Helsing in Winter's Chill. Cold radiates from the chunk of ice as Helsing tries to pry herself out, but it's useless. Her arms and legs are sealed shut in the frozen prison, and only her head can move. The serpent retreats from the ice, recoiling from the sucking warmth the ice permeates. Alucard had been too close to the spell to begin with, and it shivered as it searched for warmth.
"FINALLY!" Maxwell huffed as he slowed his beating heart. It had been a hard run!
"ARGH! WHO ARE YO— Magister!?" Helsing had rolled her head to chew out her pursuer, but flinched back as soon as she saw who it was.
Maxwell walked forwards, carefully keeping an eye on the kuja-hebi to see if it react to his presence. However, the serpent seems to have coiled up on itself, trying to preserve it's body heat. Alucard wasn't going to be slithering anytime soon.
"Expecting someone else?" Maxwell introduced himself, half rhetoric, in the deserted street. "I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me, my lady."
"Mierda! What in infierno are you doing here!?" Helsing cursed, "Don't tell me you're actually here to do my tio's dirty work—!" but then she paused.
"Oh~ Ho ho ho…!" she chuckled, "You have no idea just how much cagar you're in, hombre."
Maxwell thrusts his staff, pointing it beneath Helsing's chin and demands, "What do you know about the Children of Nightmare? Where are they!?"
"You sure you want to know that?" Helsing smiles despite her captivity, "Those locos really have it out for you…!"
Maxwell grimaces, "I already have an idea about what they are serving… And if they actually have the means to summon it here, then they have to be stopped!" Maxwell collapses his staff and holds it high as the mace head ignites on fire. "Now where are they!?"
"AKUMA GAS!" Maxwell looks up only to be promptly blinded by a jet of mustard collared smoke. He coughs and stumbles back as he is forced to choke on the foul-smelling concoction.
"*COUGH—!* Fuck…!" Max suddenly feels his throat tighten and his muscles twitch, contracting! It's the gas! Maxwell can't breath! He drops his mace as the fumes try to act like a nerve agent!
Maxwell quickly tries to casts Dispel on himself, trying to disrupt the toxins. He's on the ground but Maxwell feels the magic working! The mage rockets out of the snake with a Fade Step. He makes it out, but Maxwell still lands on his hands and knees as he retches from the poison in his system.
"Jeez, did you have to spray it near Helsing, Skunk One?" A muffled voice spoke in the gloom. Maxwell looked up to see one of the Children of Nightmare, wearing a gas mask approach. "You know she's one of our allies, right?"
The smoke clears, and Maxwell can see Helsing coughing on the residual fumes of his attacker's gas's. He wears the same robes, but it's more like a cloak, as it hangs over an unusual hump on his back.
"Hey, I did my part, Borodo-gas." Skunk One, a small statures man with a beak like nose and huge overbite, stands on one of the jutting icicles. "You know just how potent my gas is-gas."
Skunk one then takes out a pouch of powder, "I'll make sure to get her out of here-gas. YOU just make sure the Magister dies-gas! PRAY FOR THE NIGHTMARE-GAS!" He throws it down, and both he and Helsing disappear in a cloud of blue dust.
"Prey for the Nightmare…" Borodo takes of his mask and pulls out a kris dagger. Maxwell could barely make out any facial details below the hood. But he could see the eyes. Both sclera were bloodshot red, and Borodo's pupils were dilated to almost pinpricks.
This guy wasn't a cultist. He was a thrall!
Maxwell rolled when Borodo brought down the knife to stab him. His movements were almost mechanical. With every step, Borodo knelt down to stab the dagger into Maxwell's heart. However the mage kept rolling.
As he did, Maxwell tried to observe Borodo. If it was his intent to kill him, Borodo was doing a poor job of it! Most thralls, from what Maxwell had read, weren't as jerky with their movements. Their very will would have been supplanted by the maleficar's blood magic, and would carry out their orders without hesitation.
So maybe, this victim still had a meter of willpower left!
Maxwell had heard stories of victims to try and resist possession. However, almost no one was prepared to defend their own mind. Most thralls were mindless, little more than puppets. If this thrall was capable of speech, then the maleficar they were facing was more powerful than Maxwell thought, or this guy was another example of Grand Line bullshit-ery!
Not wanting to maim the guy, Maxwell summoned a Stonefist to collide with the blood slave. Borodo was thrown onto back by the rock, but like some sort of demented puppet, Borodo stood back onto his feet. Maxwell watched in fascination as he stood up. Knees, pelvis, torso, they all snapped up like hinges as Borodo stood erect.
"Good hit," Borodo's shoulders popped back into place. He didn't even wince pain! "But you're going to have to do better than that." The dagger flicked into a normal grip.
Maxwell energized his familiar's anchors and had them fire off arcane bolts to keep Borodo at bay. It worked, to an extent.
Borodo wasn't quick, but he took on heavy fire all while keeping his left arm raised. He was using his left forearm as a shield.
As the sleeve tore away, Maxwell could see a metallic glint under the fabric. Metal bit into the thrall's bicep above the joint, and Maxwell realized this man also had a prosthetic arm! The extension was about twice the size it should have been, encased in a bulky shell. However Borodo's prosthetic actually allowed for hand movement and a full range of motion! The fingers actually moved, and the elbow's hinge was mechanically flexible! Maxwell would have been in awe at the technology if he wasn't trying to stay alive!
But that arm also gave Maxwell an idea. How to disable his opponent!
Taking a risk, Maxwell withdrew Mordred, Mineive, and Salem, and summoned his mace to his hand. Then Maxwell rushed in with his weapon held high!
Borodo tilted his head at the change of tactics, but raised his fists and dagger. If the Magister wanted to die so quickly, he was welcome to it.
Maxwell swung his mace, twisting as he stepped, but it wasn't to strike Borodo. No, he was charging up a Flashfire fireball, and he flung that spell right at the thrall!
Borodo skid to a halt, it was coming in hot! Borodo raised his mechanical arm to defend, and the flames dispersed on impact. The Flashfire was a distraction though. Maxwell got in close!
With Borodo's guard up, Max cast down a Veilstrike upon the thrall, focusing on Borodo's shoulder. The gravitational force yanked on Borodo's shield arm, stressing the gears and tenderizing the muscle. Maxwell also felt the effects as he had cast it too close to himself as well. Gravity mantled his head, his neck, his shoulders, like he was below the sea!
But this was part of the plan!
Maxwell worked with the momentum! With his mace held high, fired ignited upon the head, the bludgeon swung like a pendulum smashing into Borodo's mechanical arm! The four ribbed club cracked that hull open like an egg. Gears screeched, pistons snapped, and oil ignited as it bled over Maxwell's fiery mace. It didn't shatter the arm like he hoped, but Maxwell had thrown Borodo off balance with that strike, carrying Borodo's arm with him!
Maxwell then tripped the blood thrall, making sure he fell over as he spun. Borodo hadn't expected such a reckless ploy, yet he still reacted. Lashing out with the kris knife! Maxwell caught it between the ribs of his new forearm, the blade sinking into the silk fabric. Twisting it, Max disarmed Borodo, and let the dagger fly out into the street.
Borodo landed on his back, and soon felt the weight of Maxwell pinning him. His weapon on his diaphragm. His knee was on his good elbow. And now the mage held a blade to his throat, conjured through sorcery! It was glowing like it was made of pure light, overlapping his own porosthetic.
His broken mechanical hand was dead weight now, and with Maxwell barring down on him, there was no chance of him getting up. Maxwell had him dead to rights!
"Huh. So you can fight in melee range." Yet, the blood thrall didn't seem concerned. Borodo smiled, almost like he appreciated being defeated.
"Who are you!?" Maxwell barked. "Where are the Children of Nightmare hiding!?"
"Now now, you know this thrall can't answer that question." Another voice, a deeper voice, then began to speak over Borodo's. It chilled Maxwell to the very bone. Borodo's eyes glowed with a sickly hue of green. The corners of his mouth stretched into an almost impossible grin!
"You…!"
"Well, well, if it isn't my favourite plaything." The Nightmare spoke through Borodo's body. Plucking at the bloody strings that bound the thrall to his master.
Maxwell brought the knife closer, "Leave this body! You have no right to him, demon!" The blade grew brighter, as if reacting to Maxwell's intent.
The Nightmare threw back it's head and laughed, "HA! Hahahahaha! No right? I have EVERY right!"
The Nightmare leaned forward pressing Borodo's jugular against the edge of Maxwell's construct. "This body was offered up to me, by my champion. I felt it, as my high priest plunged his blade into this one's heart and sewed the gaping wounds back together!" The demon turned Borodo's head as if to eye Maxwell, "You think you can stop what's happening?"
A cold pit began to drop in Maxwell's stomach. "Even now, my followers gather to herald in my arrival. I will be PHYSICALLY in the Grand Line!" The Nightmare shivered as if anticipating the moment, "So much power… abundant like fruit in the bush. Berries, waiting to be plucked, leaf and stem!"
Maxwell wouldn't deny, there was a lot of power to be found in the Grand Line. The seas were turbulent and the seasons were without reason. The Islanders inhabited the Fade like pegs on a crib board, watching over their inhabitants like silent guardian angels. Pirates roamed the seas like lions, powerful and blood thirsty. And Devil Fruits were abound, stemmed from the reckless fallen sailors who entered the Pirate's Graveyard.
But the most important, and relevant, fact was that the Grand Line was shielded. Some misty barrier hovers in the Fade barring all entry into its space, effectively isolating the stretch of ocean. The only way to dream-walk in was to be physically in the Grand Line. And spirits didn't have this workaround luxury. Not unless they wanted to expose themselves!
And this demon may just have a way…!
"You're in over your head again, Trevelyan. Crippled. Weak. Drowning in the vastness of powers both near and beyond. Hahahahaha!"
Quicker then he could blink, Maxwell suddenly found himself pinned on his back, Borodo's hand clutching his face like a claw.
"Fortunately for you. I still want you alive." Those unholy green eyes of the Nightmare bore down into him! "Armless or not, your affinity for the Fade far outstrips that of my chosen… It's almost ironic how much he wants you dead, whereas I need you living."
The nightmare chuckled, "My priest may bitch and complain, but by the time he fulfills his role, his usefulness will have come at and end. And I will have collected a new puppet to entertain my hunger." Fear paralyzed Maxwell, as the Nightmare turned his jaw to face him.
"So by all mean, little bird, spread your wings. Pretend you can be a creature of the night. Swoop down and try to catch the mice flittering in the dark." The Nightmare then leant down and whispered in Maxwell's ear. "But be warned, Trevelyan. This darkness you stumble in isn't a moonlit night, but the depths of a coal mine. Be careful not to be the canary and choke on the fumes inside your cage. Because either way, the earth will swallow you whole!"
Borodo then coughed up a glob of blood. Half retching, half laughing, a coagulated mass bubbled out of his throat. It seemed to ferment and writhe on the city street as Borodo threw it up! Maxwell looked at it in horror. A pure manifestation of blood magic, cut out of the thrall like a slab of meat.
The blood shivered to a halt, then he lights in Borodo's eyes then dimmed, signalling the demon's withdrawal. The Nightmare was gone, for now…!
Borodo then promptly fell unconscious, collapsing on top of the mage. Maxwell barely noticed him.
"F***…! I really am out of my depth here…"