Reviews:
ManwithaPlan113: I'm glad you're enjoying it and thanks for the suggestion!
Kabuto S. Inferno: Yeah, I've been into 40k for a few years now. I've never touched a mini in my life or held a rules book, but I'm into the lore and like to know as much about it as I can, including obscure stuff like the Angel or the Emperor's Greater Daemon "Imperious, Avatar of the Astronomican". Anyway, I've gone back and added the line breaks and will continue to do so if they seem appropriate. As for changing the Slaaneshi cult to Donovan, that was actually going to happen in one draft but he would have been using normal poison and I didn't think that worked very well. I didn't actually intend to include Donovan at all. The lines about him in the prologue were just remnants of the version I didn't use which I've since gone back and removed. Making him a Slaaneshi cultist with that special poison... Maybe. I might do a poll on it to see what other readers think. It's not a bad idea, in my opinion.
jjcoop95: Yeah... I was genuinely struggling to find a way to deal with this. I ended up having to use your suggestion, so thank you. As for Elfheim, I do have actual plans for it. Hopefully I don't dissapoint.
Two years after he had killed Gambino and run away, Guts had become truly massive standing at a solid eight feet tall, if not a bit taller, and he was still growing as far as he could tell. He was still stronger than any normal human but he could tell he wasn't getting any stronger anymore, if anything he was getting weaker. He was moving slower than he used to and everything felt a lot heavier than it used to no matter how much he exercised to maintain his muscles. Even so he was still stronger than any human he had ever encountered by far. Generally speaking, anyway. There was some variation day to day.
It had taken him some time to realize what was happening. Having never been sick in his life up until his encounter with the Cult, he noticed there were days where he didn't feel good. Days where he felt slower and weaker than normal. Thus he originally just assumed he was getting sick on those days. Especially since it would often pass as quickly as it came. Back when he was with Gambino, the others in the band pretty much agreed that it was just a cold or something. He continued to believe that until it came to the point that feeling "sick" was common for him and he rarely felt as strong as he should. Finally, one day, he ended up vomiting up an eerily familiar purple liquid. It was then he knew the poison from those cultists was very much still in his system. Sometimes it gripped him harder than others.
Sometimes it would leave him sluggish and barely able to move at all as he coughed and vomited up what had to be gallons of the malevolent purple liquid. On those days, if someone cut him there would even be purple mixed in with his blood. Other times his body managed to fight it off and he barely felt the effects of the poison at all and almost felt like his old self or even better. On those days he would heal exceedingly fast and it was almost impossible to hurt him at all, even if he took a cannon shot directly to the face. But those times were steadily becoming ever more rare and fleeting. Guts knew those days would eventually stop all together and later the poison would leave him paralyzed, unable to move ever again. Likely while he was traveling. Then he'd probably die of exposure or something.
Regardless he was still regarded as damn near a demigod of war, amongst the few people who knew of him and believed the stories. His armor was so tough that no arrow or polearm could possibly pierce it by virtue of being solid quarter of an inch thick slabs of hardened steel. The armor only really covered his chest, back, shoulders, and head. Both his legs and his arms were completely exposed save for a single gauntlet on his left hand. There were gaps in the armor that could definitely be exploited but actually doing so would be incredibly difficult as he usually moved faster than any of his enemies could swing or stab at him. Though his enemies did get lucky every so often, especially if the poison was biting him particularly hard that day.
At one point he used his saved up money to purchase a couple dozen pounds of decent quality steel and paid a blacksmith to let him use his forge. He then extended the length and thickness of his sword until the blade was close to as large as he was tall, was as a bit wider than his arm, and was thick enough to withstand its own weight without bending and could survive the abuse he put it through. He had seen blacksmiths work on his equipment enough times to understand the process and could forge just as well as any of them if not better. Of course his blade was simple and functional without any unneeded embellishments. It only had one purpose, to kill whoever he was hired to kill and tear down enemy fortifications. It didn't need to look fancy to fulfill those two functions.
Then one day he was hired for a fairly standard job. He was going to help siege a castle. Unfortunately the poison was wreaking havoc on him that day. He was having trouble swinging his oversized sword and was moving at a slow lumbering pace. He'd even coughed up purple a few times that day. Still he pressed on and was still one of the most lethal men on the battlefield, cleaving men and horses in half.
In a way, he honestly preferred days like this. Some part of him enjoyed the challenge. It was too easy on his best days.
Some knight on horseback got a lucky hit on Guts' leg with a spear. Guts returned the favor by cutting him in half.
He didn't even have to look at the wound to know the blood's color was ever so slightly off. The poison was thick today and he'd seen his own blood enough times to know what it looked like while the poison was biting him so hard. Fortunately the wound was mostly superficial. It wasn't even going to slow him down.
A few minutes later and Guts was at the castle gates near the battering ram. After the castle gates were smashed in, the lord who had hired him shouted, "Go! Make your way through! Whoever brings me the general's head gets all the reward he wants!"
That was Guts' goal then. He would kill the general and bring back his severed head. As he made his way into the castle with the rest of the soldiers he was working with at the time, he eventually saw a large man in full plate mail wielding a battle ax, slaughtering anyone who got too close to him. He was very large being almost seven feet tall which was impressive for anyone other than Guts.
"It's Bazuso! The Gray Knight, Bazuso!" One of the soldiers exclaimed.
"You mean the Bazuso who killed thirty men at once?"
"I heard he killed a bear unarmed!"
"What happened to the archers?!" The lord demanded.
"They're still outside the castle gate…" One of the soldiers responded.
"No one's gonna get past me! Anyone who wants their head smashed in, step right up!"
"Argh! What are you waiting for?! Defeat him and make yourselves famous! You call yourselves knights?! Charge!" The lord ordered.
"Easy for him to say, I'm just a merc."
"Let him do it himself!"
"Unbelievable!" The lord growled.
Guts stepped forwards, drawing his oversized sword from his back.
"Who's that?"
"He's an actual damn giant! I thought those were supposed to be myths!"
"Looks like a merc."
"H-hey look at that sword!"
"Holy hell, that thing's massive! I mean he's big but good god! He's gonna swing that thing around?!"
"That big lug is showin' off… Idiot's gonna get himself killed "
"Giant, are you planning on defeating Bazuso?" The lord asked.
"How much?" Guts inquired.
"Wha… What?!"
"For metal head here. The 'Thirty Man Killer' or whatever." Guts elaborated. "I'm a merc. Unlike you knights I can't live on glory. I get paid, got it?"
"V… Very well… In the event you manage to kill him, I'll give you five gold pieces."
"Ten." Guts responded.
"Seven! And not one more!"
Guts sighed and rolled his shoulders. "Ahhh well… Fine…"
"Ha ha… You'll regret this… You think you're tough just because you're big? Ha! You're just some lumbering oaf! We'll see who's tough when I cleave your head from your shoulders! I'll start by chopping your legs off then I'll chop your head off!" Bazuso taunted.
Guts swung his sword. Bazuso barely managed to raise his ax in time to deflect the strike. Guts continued to swing his sword as Bazuso struggled to keep up, even with the poison biting. The sheer weight of Guts' sword was forcing Bazuso back. It was all the Thirty Man Killer could do to not be sent crashing onto his ass or be sent flying back from the strikes. It was fortunate the haft of Bazuso's ax was reinforced with a steel pipe otherwise the weapon would have already broken by now.
Guts swung again, as did Bazuso. Bazuso's damaged ax shattered upon the armor on Guts' helmet, knocking it off his head, while Guts' oversized sword cleaved through Bazuso's comparatively thin armor, into Bazuso's side, and out the other side of his armor completely bisecting him.
As Bazuso was technically still alive after that, Guts decided to be merciful and chopped straight through his helmet, cleaving his head in half. He killed him quickly rather than leaving him to die in agony as he bled out on the ground.
Unbeknownst to Guts up on a balcony watching the entire thing was the leader of the Band of the Hawk and several others from the Band of the Hawk.
"Wow. The enemy's got some great fighters too."
"Hey Grifith, who do you think is stronger? You or him?"
"There's no comparison, man. Right Griffith?"
Griffith was silent for a moment before turning and walking away. "This castle's done for. Let's get out while we can."
Later after the battle, Guts was collecting his payment from the lord. "Here's half a year's wages and the reward for the battle. Count it yourself. You were fabulous out there. To think you are such a skilled warrior as to be able to defeat Bazuso himself single handedly… Well! Frankly, I'm shocked. How would you like to serve me officially? I wouldn't mislead you. I'll Pay you three times what I've already paid you, and considering your skill if you wish I could even grant you official knighthood! You would be granted your own squires. Surely there's never been a mere merc the likes of you?"
Guts tested the gold by biting it. Seeing it was real he put it back in the pouch. Honestly the prospect was very tempting. Though not for the reason the lord thought. Something deeply ingrained within the very fiber of his being absolutely screamed at him that he was meant for better things. That he was meant to be more than just a mere mercenary. That he was meant to rule. And becoming a knight would be an excellent first step on that path. He could become a knight, earn honor and glory on the battlefield, eventually be granted Lordship over some land by the King, earn the King's favor and eventually marry the princess becoming the king himself. Then he could start conquering more and more land until the entire world was under his control.
Yes. He could do that. He was confident he could do it even with the poison slowly killing him. "Could" didn't mean he would, however. He was cursed. A bad omen. A killer… A devil's child bringing only misfortune and suffering to those around him. Death and destruction were all he was good for. So if he became King, his rule would bring nothing but disaster for everyone. His people would suffer and die and it would be all his fault. It was always his fault… As such, for the good of everyone around him he violently crushed the instincts raging within him, snuffing out the ambition that was ingrained in his very genetics. If all he was good for was killing then he would kill. Thus being a mercenary suited him very well since he didn't particularly care who he killed or why as long as he got paid what he was owed when the fighting was over.
"How about it?" The lord asked.
Guts started walking away, much to the Lord's surprise. "The contract's up today, right? Looks like the fighting's done here anyway."
"Uh… No. Hold on…" said the lord, walking after him. "Why keep throwing yourself into dangerous battlefields?! What about status, money, and security?! Please, at least stay as my guest!"
Guts jolted in shock as the lord grabbed his arm, trying to stop him from walking away. Smacking the hand away, Guts shouted, "DON'T TOUCH ME!" Scowling at the lord he growled, "Don't you ever touch me!"
The lord cowered in fear of him.
Scoffing, Guts turned and kept walking without saying another word.
"B-Blasted fool! Go on and die like a dog on some battlefield then!" The lord shouted after him.
A few minutes after Guts started marching away he fell to his knees and puked up a malevolent purple liquid. The poison was getting stronger and he felt more of his strength leaving him.
Later that day a few members of the Band of the Hawk saw someone walking down the road.
"Oh! Hey, somebody's comin'!" The lookout shouted to the others.
Several other members came over and looked. "Oi! Look, it's the guy who killed Bazuso yesterday!"
"What's he doing here?"
"He's the enemy ain't he?"
"That's nothing to us now…"
"But I bet his pockets are well-lined. He got the reward for killing Bazuso. What once was lost is found, y'know? How about it, Griffith?"
"Do as you will." Griffith responded.
"Heh heh… Alright, you guys, come with me/"
"Oh, to go kill him, Corkus?"
There was a quick amused snort from another member of the band.
"What? What's so funny, Casca?" Corkus asked.
"You aren't up to killing him, Corkus." Casca responded.
"Ha… We'll see about that. I was plannin' on killing Bazuso and gettin' famous myself one of these days. Think I'm just gonna sit back and let this bastard we've never even heard of snatch that gold away?" Corkus retorted.
"You'll die." Casca said simply.
Corkus hesitated. "…Well… Just watch."
"That Corkus… Are you sure about this, Griffith?" Another member of the mercenary band asked.
Griffith didn't respond, continuing to lay in the grass.
As he was walking Guts thought he heard something. He waited for a moment and listened. Just as he was about to dismiss it as his imagination and move on he saw a group of armored men on horses riding towards him with their weapons drawn.
'Bandits?!' Guts thought to himself, taking off his bag and dropping it on the ground.
"Go get 'im, Dante!" He heard one of them shout as he drew his sword.
As "Dante" rode closer with his weapon raised, Guts dodged the sword strike and proceeded to slide his own sword in the gap just underneath Dante's cuirass, disemboweling him. As Dante fell off his horse, Guts immediately focused on the other bandits.
One with a three headed flail rushed towards him. As he tried to strike at Guts, Guts cleaved his arm off.
Guts stood there unphased, glaring at the other men.
"Hey, Riguel! Go get him!" One of the bandits ordered another.
"Wh… Why me?!" Riguel objected.
Guts started marching forwards rapidly towards the one giving orders. However, just as he was about to kill the bandit, Guts was suddenly struck in the arm by a crossbow bolt. Pausing mid swing he turned to see who was shooting at him and saw a new bandit with a crossbow riding closer.
"Casca!" exclaimed the bandit Guts had just been about to kill, as he had his horse back away from Guts. "Y-you here to help?"
"Only because Griffith ordered me to." Casca sneered. "Stay back."
Guts ripped the crossbow bolt out of his arm as Casca put away their crossbow and drew their sword.
Guts clashed with Casca, accidentally knocking their helmet off in the scuffle revealing the face underneath.
'A woman?' Guts thought to himself in surprise.
Having been knocked off her horse by Guts' attack, Casca got up and charged at him. She immediately tried to strike him with her sword but Guts blocked with his own. Letting the fight draw out a bit, Guts exchanged a few blows with her before finally getting fed up. With a single strong crushing strike with his sword he knocked her to the ground. He then raised his sword to finish her off.
Before he could, however, a spear landed in the ground between them.
Looking towards the source of the spear, Guts saw an armored mad wearing a helmet stylized to resemble a bird.
"Griffith!" Casca cheered.
"Ha ha… End of the road for you!"
"Be careful! This guy's tough!"
"Would you lower your sword?" Griffith asked him calmly.
Guts said nothing but adjusted his grip on the weapon.
"I guess not…"
Guts rushed towards Griffith with his sword raised while Griffith rode towards him on his horse. Guts tried to strike at Griffith but with the poison slowing and weakening him as much as it was Griffith somehow managed to deflect his strike, despite the overwhelming weight of Gut's massive sword. Disengaging Griffith managed to quickly stab Guts in the chest through a gap in his armor.
Guts felt the blade slide under his armpit through a thin gap between his arm and rips and nearly stabbed one of his hearts but narrowly missed it. Intentionally, he realized. He staggered back a bit and clutched at his wound in surprise.
The fact he didn't go down from that seemed to surprise not just Griffith but the other bandits as well. Everyone was dead silent as Guts raised his sword again and roared in fury.
Guts' very presence suddenly became completely overwhelming. Bandits stumbled back in terror, a couple completely passed out and fell unconscious, even Griffith's eyes widened under his helmet though he very clearly tried his best to hide his intimidation.
Guts raised his sword again and lunged at Griffith like an angry rabid animal, heedless of the fact his life was genuinely in danger for the first time since his early childhood. Knocking Griffith completely off his horse and sending him crashing to the ground several feet away.
Griffith had to push himself up and roll out of the way fast to avoid being cleaved in two as Guts' sword nearly came down on him like an executioner's ax. Swinging his saber, Griffith cut Gut's across the stomach, just under his armor. However the blade failed to go deep enough to disembowel him.
However it didn't need to as Guts fell to one knee and coughed up poison. His body trembled and he fell flat on his face.
Griffith stood the rest of the way up, his whole body trembling as he made his way back over to his horse.
As he climbed up onto its back, Casca rushed towards him. "Griffith!" She called out, sounding concerned.
"I… I'm alright." Griffith said, half to her and half to himself.
Pretty much everyone else was either dead, were still too stunned to speak, or were unconscious.
Both Casca and Griffith's eyes widened as they saw this monster of a man struggling back to his feet, using his massive sword to balance as he forced himself back up. He was unsteady on his feet but he clearly hadn't given up.
Casca got between Griffith and this monster, sword raised.
"Step aside, Casca." Griffith ordered.
The monstrous giant took a step. Then another, and another, dragging his sword behind him like a weight, as if he hadn't just been swinging it around like a normal weapon. He raised the weapon one handed, and roared as he prepared to attack one last time. He collapsed once more, his body having finally given out before he could follow through.
Griffith removed his helmet and stared down at the giant who glared back up at him from his place on the ground before his eyes glazed over and he passed out.
Guts was a child again running from a giant monster, he had no clothes, but had his sword in hand. The ominous figure reached towards him, so Guts turned and slashed the hand with his sword, cutting it.
The figure paused, staring at its hand for a moment before the wound healed and it continued reaching towards Guts again. Guts cried out in fear.
Hearing something he looked behind him and saw Gambino sitting in his chair, petting his dog, on top of a hill of bones.
"GAMBINO?!" Guts cried out. "Gabino, save me! Cutting this thing with a sword doesn't work!" He pleaded as he ran towards Gambino.
Gambino chuckled.
"Gambino…?" Gut asked, confused.
"Don't be ridiculous." Gambino said, looking at Guts. "That's my right leg you've got in your hand, isn't it? Without that I can't even use a sword."
Guts looked down at what he previously thought was his sword and saw it was actually Gambino's leg. Startled, he dropped it on the field of bones beneath him.
"Besides, did you forget? I'm dead and gone now." Gambino grabbed his chin. "You shoved your sword right through my throat…" He began lifting his head, revealing a gaping wound in his half way decapitated neck. "It hurt a lot… Even to death."
Not knowing what to say, Guts stared up silently at Gambino.
"Who'd help the creep that caused all this anyway? Right, Shisu?"
Guts realized the dog Gambino was petting had Shisu's head. It looked just like she did in her final moments before she died.
"Gambino… Listen… I was…" Guts was cut off as the massive looming figure behind him grabbed him by the shoulders.
Looking behind him Guts saw the eerie smiling face of the Cult Leader who violated him.
"Guts… Guts…" The Cult Leader said before pushing Guts to the ground.
"GAMBINO!" Guts cried, reaching out towards him as he struggled in the grip of the Cult Leader. Only both Gambino and Shisu were skeletons now.
'You should have died.' Came a whisper in Gambino's voice.
'Forgive me… Please forgive me, Gambino…' Guts thought.
'You should have died.'
'...Don't touch me… Stop… DON'T TOUCH ME!' Guts screamed in his mind.
Guts opened his eyes blearily and saw who was lying next to him. 'A woman…? Dark eyes…" He passed out again.
He woke up later by himself in an unfamiliar tent.
'Where am I?' He wondered.
His armpit twinged with pain and suddenly he remembered. The bandits. The man who stabbed him.
He could feel the poison still in his system and he could see his discolored blood on his bandages. The purple mixing with the red.
Getting up he looked outside the tent and saw a familiar sight. Something he'd seen pretty much his entire life. A mercenary camp. But something was different.
'A merc band? Really young though…'
Looking around he saw a man with long white hair talking to a woman with short hair and dark skin. He recognized them both. They were part of the group that had attacked him. They seemed to be having an argument.
The woman turned and marched away, coming towards him.
The first thing he noticed was her eyes. The same ones he'd seen while he was unconscious.
Then the woman punched him in the stomach where he'd been cut across the belly. Guts barely flinched which just seemed to make her even angrier.
"I wish you'd died after Griffith was through with you!" She snarled before marching away.
Guts watched her leave, confused by what had just happened.
"It's only natural." A voice said.
Guts looked and saw a man sitting in a chair, sharpening a knife. "Our Casca gave up on being a woman so she could be a mercenary long ago. In truth, she's a much better swordsman than most of the men here. By Griffith's orders, she had to sleep with you all day yesterday, in order to warm you up since you'd gone cold from losing so much blood. Warming a man is a woman's duty, he said. Honestly though, we were all surprised with how fast you've recovered. Just a few hours and you were practically back to normal."
The man casually threw the knife he was sharpening and hit a wooden bucket another man was using to bathe.
"What the hell you doin' Judeu?!" The bathing man shouted.
"Sorry, sorry." Judeu said with a smile.
Guts looked at his bandages around where he'd been stabbed in the armpit. Then he noticed someone standing next to him and saw it was the white haired man from yesterday.
"I'm Griffith. What's your name?"
Guts stared at him for a moment before responding. "Guts…"
Griffith raised his arms and held up Guts' sword, though it was clearly far too heavy for him.
"It's an amazing sword. I could never wield it." Griffith said, handing it back to Guts.
Guts took the sword silently. It felt similarly heavy to him right now. However, he was certain he could still use it if need be.
"Would you accompany me?" Griffith asked.
Without a word Guts followed him through the camp. At some point Guts was given a simple black shirt and the sheath of his sword back before he and Griffith continued walking through the camp. Everyone was staring at him.
"So, who are they?" Guts asked, looking at the crowd of mercs. "All these guys with the evil eye?"
"The Band of the Hawk." Griffith responded.
Guts paused. 'The Band of the Hawk?!'
"You know of us?" Griffith asked.
"Just rumors." Guts responded.
"I see. Well, we've heard rumors about you as well, Guts. Some were quite outlandish. Though now, seeing you for myself, I'm starting to believe the rumors are true." Griffith told him.
Guts didn't respond to that. He knew the rumors. Some were true. Some embellished. He'd once single handedly destroyed an entire army on one of his better days and that had been the start of some of the most ridiculous of them.
Griffith led him out of the camp and to an empty hill.
Stretching, Griffith said, "Ahhh… What a view."
"Why?" Guts demanded. "Back there, why'd you miss my heart? It should have been easy for you. Why didn't you kill me?"
Griffith didn't respond immediately and the two stood there, staring at each other. "Because I realized I want you. Guts."
Guts reeled with a disgusted grimace. "Are you a homo?" He asked bluntly.
Griffith ignored that and continued, "We were also in that castle a few days ago. And we were fortunate enough to watch your one on one combat with Bazuso… It was admirable… But… It was dangerous. I could tell you weren't at your best. Something was holding you back. Making you weak. And if Bazuso's battle ax hadn't cracked, it would have been you with a cloven head."
"Probably…" Guts admitted. Thick as his chest plate was, his helmet was just a normal helmet. Enough force would defeat it easily.
"You're honest… The way you fight. It's almost like you're gambling with your own life."
Guts froze momentarily. The words hitting a little too close to home.
Griffith turned and stared out at the horizon. "You don't budge an inch against a monster like Bazuso. Which could be explained by confidence as you are quite monstrous in your own right. However, you are also unshaken by multiple opponents like Corkus' group when whatever was weakening you in your fight against Bazuso was affecting you even more then. Instead, you run in recklessly, sword swinging. It's no doubt courageous, but it seems… that while intentionally exposing yourself to the risk of death you're also struggling to make it out alive. That's how it felt to me."
Guts clenched his fists.
"Yet, I also noticed something else. You and me. We're similar. I can see it in you. Like me you know you're meant for more than just this. We're meant for greater things. We both have ambition. A yearning to be more. And yet… If you wanted, I'm sure any Lord would be more than happy to knight you on the spot after seeing you in battle. In fact, I'm positive you must have received such offers in the past. Yet you're still a mercenary… If I'm not mistaken, you reject that calling. That ambition that burns in our blood… For the life of me I just can't comprehend it."
Griffith turned to face him again. "You're interesting." He smiled. "And I've taken a liking to you. I want you, Guts."
Guts scowled. 'Who does this guy think he is? Talkin' to people like that!'
"And if I say 'no'?" Guts demanded.
"Do you?" Griffith asked.
"You bet your ass! Hell no!" Guts shouted. Feeling a pang of pain from the stab wound he winced and clutched at it. "… Talking like you know who I am… What do you know anyway?! What can you know when we've never even met?!"
"I don't know at all… It's just the way I felt."
"This makes me sick… You stabbed me now you're all buddy buddy?! You're the ones who attacked me! I've got no intention of just forgettin' that! And I killed one of your men, so I'm not about to tell you to forget that either! You and me… We're enemies." Guts stated.
"What will you do?"
"Oh that? That's simple." Guts said, drawing his sword and dropping into a fighting stance. "We'll settle it with a duel. If I win, I'll give you a matching hole in your chest." The poison may have been biting him hard that day, but there was no way he was going to lose against a normal man in a one on one duel. He'd just underestimated Griffith the first time. It wasn't going to happen again.
"And if I win?" Griffith asked calmly.
"Then you make me your soldier or fagboy or whatever!" Guts retorted.
Griffith smiled and drew his saber. "All right. I don't dislike doing things by force."
"GRIFFITH!" A woman shouted.
Looking, Guts saw it was Casca.
"Stay out of this, Casca." Griffith ordered.
"But—"
"I must obtain the things I desire." Griffith told her before facing Guts once more.
Guts swung his sword in a crushing downwards swing and Griffith dodged it, deflecting it further off course with his saber.
'It's that damn superior attitude that makes me sick!' Guts thought to himself as he continued to swing his weapon, trying to cleave Griffith's head from his shoulders.
The two continued to clash. Guts had overwhelming strength and power on his side, but Griffith's skill and grace was enough to match Guts in his weakened state blow for blow. Much to Guts' frustration.
He had never had this much trouble fighting a single person before. Not only was Griffith skilled, but it seemed like fate itself was conspiring against Guts. A killing blow would just narrowly miss, an unseen rock would be under foot and cause Guts to stumble, or a patch of mud would make his foot slip changing his stance and posture just enough that he would accidentally over extend on a swing, Griffith would move in a way that would make him avoid a feint by pure chance, and other minor things like that. Griffith was the luckiest man Guts had ever faced in his life. Guts would have accused him of cheating somehow if it weren't physically impossible for him to be doing all of this on purpose.
Eventually Griffith managed to get a cut across Guts' arm while Guts hadn't managed to land so much as a single blow on Griffith.
'How'd he do that?! I can cut through steel plate and break castle doors to splinters with this sword! He's parrying all my attacks with that narrow blade, and damn well doing it one handed! Plus all these weird coincidences… Is this guy some kind of witch?!'
"We can postpone this, you know. I can tell you aren't at full strength. And those injuries put you at a disadvantage."
"Can it! You'd need your whole Band of the Hawk to even have a hope of beating me at my strongest!" Guts growled furiously, launching himself into another attack.
'I will win! I'll beat him! Faster, stronger!' Guts thought, pushing his body as hard as he possibly could. Trying to push through the poison through sheer force of will. And he succeeded to an extent. His strikes got just a little bit faster and harder. It put more pressure on Griffith but it still wasn't enough.
Griffith managed to strike him several more times on his arms and legs.
Guts stabbed his sword into the ground and used it to scoop up some dirt and grass which he threw in Griffith's face.
Griffith was temporarily blinded, thus Guts raised his sword intent on cutting him completely in half with a final overhead strike.
Griffith managed to avoid the strike somehow and jumped up, landing on top of the blade of Guts' sword and standing there. He raised the point of his saber to Guts' throat.
Some mercenaries off to the side who Guts only just noticed cheered excitedly. He and Griffith both ignored them.
"I like you more and more. You'll do anything to win… But you can't swing your sword like this. What now? Feel free to give up if you wish."
"You're a talkative bastard… I'll show you how mouths should be used in a fight!" Guts said before biting the tip of Griffith's saber, locking it in place. His mouth started bleeding, his tongue getting a nasty cut as Griffith tried to free his weapon. Guts then used every last ounce of his strength to prove Griffith wrong. He absolutely could swing his sword like this.
Lifting the blade, he twisted and flung Griffith off the weapon, launching him into the air and sending him flying off a short cliff. Unfortunately Guts lost his balance in the process and went tumbling after him.
Griffith landed hard on his stomach while Guts tumbled roughly down the hill losing his grip on both swords.
Recovering slightly faster than Griffith, Guts got up and pinned Griffith to the ground before punching him hard in the face.
Standing up the rest of the way, Guts kicked Griffith and knocked him back to the ground again.
Normally a punch or kick from him would have turned a man to a fine red paste. The fact it didn't happen now was a testament to how badly the poison was affecting him.
In fact, Guts was feeling a bit woozy…Wait… No… No! Not now! Damn it! NOT NOW!
Guts fell to his hand and knees and started puking up the vile purple substance.
Griffith took that as an opportunity to quickly scoop up his saber, get behind Guts, put the primarch in a hold, and press the sharp part of the blade hard against Guts' throat "I could cut your throat open right now, Guts. You lose. Will you concede defeat? Or will I have to give you another hole to match the one in your chest? Choose!"
Guts, having stopped puking, snarled. "Asshole…"
Griffith took the sword away from Guts' neck and stabbed him through the opposite shoulder to where he'd stabbed Guts the first time. This time, however, the wound was mostly superficial, not hitting anything vital.
The mercenaries ran down the hill, cheering.
"Yeah!"
"That's our Griffith!"
The mercenaries gathered around Griffith and one said, "We didn't know what was going to happen once he threw you off the cliff!"
"Moron! You think that would finish off Griffith?"
"Wow… You really are tough…"
"Heh…" Corkus chuckled mockingly. "That's what you get! Come on, stand up!" He said, grabbing the arm Griffith had just stabbed and pulling on it.
A hand blocked Corkus, stopping him.
"Griffith…?" Corkus asked, confused.
Griffith knelt down in front of Guts, who was currently on his knees, and grabbed him by the face. Leaning in close, Griffith said, "Now you belong to me."
Griffith and Guts stared each other in the eyes. Guts was in shock over his loss. He hadn't lost a fight to anyone ever since he was a child still learning how to use a sword. The fact that he'd lost this fight… It shouldn't have been possible.
"What's that mean?" Asked one of the mercenaries.
Griffith stood up and faced them. "From now on, he's one of the Hawks."
Later that night Guts was laying on his bedroll, staring up at the roof of his new tent.
'I lost… I lost! He crushed me! It was pathetic! Damn it! I can't even blame the poison! No, I won't blame it! I refuse! That would be an excuse! I refuse to make excuses!'
Guts scowled darkly at the roof of his tent in dead silence.
'…That innocent grin… Ear to ear like some little kid… But the bastard didn't think twice about stabbing me again… God damn it! What the hell is he?!'
Guts heard a noise outside his tent and got up.
"You really gonna kill him, Corkus?"
"Shh! Don't chicken out now! There's seven of us! Didn't you all say you hated him too?! He killed Dante!"
"Yeah, but… He's so friggin' powerful! Besides, Griffith…"
"Don't worry. If we're lucky we'll just kill him in his sleep. Besides, he's hurt and sick. He can't fight like he did before in this state! If we ditch his body somewhere in the woods, even Griffith'll think he just ran off."
Guts grabbed his sword off the hook it was hanging on. 'These guys will be no problem at all.'
"Okay, go sam!"
"Why me? You always do this!"
"That's far enough!" Casca declared, approaching the group. "Even if he's sick and injured, he isn't someone you can beat."
"C-casca!" The men called out in surprise.
Guts peaked through the entrance to see what was happening.
"Get back to your tents now, and I'll overlook this."
The mercenaries were all terrified and it showed.
"Sorry 'bout this…"
"We'll just go…"
"Hey! Hey! Get back here!" Corkus exclaimed, grabbing the shoulders of two of the mercenaries. He then looked at Casca. "Casca! Why do you always take his side?! You have a grudge against him too, right? You had to act like a whore for him all day yesterday! Or did somethin' happen then?"
Casca drew her sword and pointed it at Corkus' throat. "Say that again and I'll take your head off."
"D-don't get so riled up! It was just a joke!" Corkus said timidly.
The two of them stared at each other for a moment before Corkus and his gang turned and ran.
"Hmph." Casca scoffed, sheathing her sword.
Guts stepped out of his tent.
Casca looked at him for a moment before turning to walk away.
"That makes two I owe you. So I'll just say thanks for now…" Guts called after her.
"Don't get me wrong. I'm just following Griffith's orders… If I didn't, who'd bother with you?" They stared at eachother for a moment longer before Casca turned and continued marching away.
"Go on and get yourself killed in battle!" Casca said as she walked away.
Guts just went back inside his tent. He thought about laying back down but decided against it. Instead he sat with his back against a large box, holding his sword in his arms.
He spent the rest of the night sitting there, wide awake. While traveling alone, he had discovered a few peculiarities about himself. Namely, he could go weeks without needing sleep and he didn't have to eat or drink as much as a normal person. So, since he would often have nightmares whenever he went to sleep he just avoided sleep as much as he could. This had the added benefit of making it harder for anyone to sneak up on him while he was asleep. Furthermore, he often avoided meals, water, or booze especially when he was around other people. The reasons for this were two fold. First and foremost it let him avoid the risk of being poisoned again. Second, not eating or drinking unless he had to and was certain the food and drink was safe let him save a bit of extra coin.
So, he just stayed there in that tent, alone with his thoughts.
Sorry this took so long. I don't particularly like this chapter. I wanted to change things a lot more than I did. Like, in a couple different drafts I was going to have Guts be on the side of the Band of the Hawk in the siege. Then I would have had Griffith convince him to join some other way. However, I just couldn't find a way to make it work. Griffith convincing Guts to join. And I couldn't see him beating Guts in a fair duel even with the Idea of Evil basically ripping causality to shreds try to force Griffith to win. Thus why this took so long to get out. Eventually I decided to just go with jjcoop95's suggestion and have the poison still be in Guts' system. It was just the easiest solution and I want to move on to other chapters.
I have plans for how to deal with the poison after the Eclipse, however. Not immediately after, but soon enough.
Anyway, do you guys think I should go back and change the Slaaneshi cult into Donovan? Like Donovan is the Slaaneshi cultist and is trying to infiltrate Gambino's mercenary company to corrupt them all? There's a poll up on my profile.
Edit: Also, just so you're aware, Gut's dialogue is canon. So the homophobic stuff he says? He says that in the manga.
