Author's note: So I've said this before, and I'll say it again. I don't believe in nerfing characters for the sake of making things easier to write. And that applies to protagonists, antagonists or side characters. Anyway, Dante's boss fight is in the next chapter. But, some cool stuff happens in this one too…
castigar: Inbox me for more on that, haha! Also, Valkyrie is around 8 feet tall or so. Dimitrescu is noted to be around 9 feet, but this includes her hat, from what I remember.
thunderknight009: The oldest and original inspiration for Sura was actually a fanfiction version of another character, who in turn borrowed a lot of elements from Devil Jin of the Tekken series. Over time, Sura became his own character. I was inspired by Akuma from the Street Fighter series, Vegeta from Dragon Ball, Asura from Asura's Wrath.
Hands of Fate and Destiny: shh. Yang doesn't remember. Probably for the best.
Logic Soldier: So you're saying, if the referee in an MMA bout gets between the two fighters and pushes them apart, he's stronger than each of them? Think about that for a moment, and ask yourself if it makes sense.
Anyway, that's enough pre-chapter talk from me. Let's get this show on the road.
Chapter 40: Chaos Unbound, Part III:
Weiss looked out the window.
"W-what's going on?" she said.
Everything had gone dark. Without the moon, the only source of light outside had been the electrical lighting, and the fog outside was so thick, it blocked it out completely. She turned around. Somehow, the lights inside the house were dim too, as though someone had put shades over the candles.
"It's dark," she said.
Malever waved a hand. The flames on the candles, which had been orange before, turned bright scarlet, and burned strongly, overpowering the strange darkness easily.
"Amateurs," he muttered.
"It's a demon, isn't it?" Weiss asked. There was a feeling of dread in the air, something she'd come to except whenever infernal beings were nearby.
"Demons," the serpent in human form corrected. "There is more than one."
Weiss' heart skipped a beat.
"The others," she said. "They're in danger."
She began to rush out, when the serpent's voice cut through the air.
"If that is how you respond when faced with danger, you might as well quit now. The path of the sorcerer isn't for you."
The heiress stopped and turned to look at him.
"My friends, they're out there right now."
"Yes. And so are my companions."
Weiss' heart was still pounding fast, but the rising tide of panic was suppressed. Malever continued.
"You forget: this town is under the protection of the Five. And besides. Even if we weren't here, this world already has a protector."
"Dante…"
Weiss took a deep breath. The serpent was right. Dante was here now too. This time around, they weren't on their own.
"He must be on his way to destroy whoever's doing this," she said.
"Yes and no," replied Malever. "Firstly, yes. There is no doubt he is already out there, looking for whichever demon is behind all this. Secondly, however, there is a problem. This mist is a form of spatial magic. It distorts the senses. Ordinarily, I would have been able to locate the intruders by their energy alone. As for Dante, he would have put bullets in their heads already."
"This mist is stopping him from sensing them," said Weiss.
"Yes. He does not know where they are, and he cannot see past the mist any more than what it allows him to. He has no choice but to make his way through the maze this town has been turned into."
Weiss' mind raced. Evaluated on the basis of her training as a Grimm huntress, that was a terrible situation to be in. Blind, in enemy territory, with no idea of their abilities or numbers. But for a huntress who slayed demons, it should be nothing more than an average night on the field. The parameters of this problem were different. Weiss had learnt a little about the basics of demonic power from Dante, and from Penny. While physics seemed to be little more than fabric to be bent or outright pushed aside as desired to users of True Magic, there were still rules.
"Dante's power is a lot stronger, isn't it? Can't he just remove the mist?"
"No. It's true that when it comes to pure strength, there is no comparison. But Dante isn't a sorcerer. While he does have powerful True Magic, it is entirely channelled into skills geared to direct combat, as well as the use of his Devil Arms. If he were to unleash that power here…"
"... It would erase this town and everyone in it," Weiss finished. "Damn it!"
"All is not lost. He merely needs to find the source, and attack it with precision. Something he is used to doing. And that is where we come in."
"What do we do?"
"As I said, there is more than one demon intruder here. The spatial magic being used here is problematic, but whoever is the source of it might not be the one leading them."
"If I know Dante, he'll go after the ringleader."
"Correct. The rest of us must play our parts, and eliminate the other intruders. And who better to eliminate one sorcerer than another?"
Weiss' heart pounded, but now there was excitement mixed in with the fear.
"We're going after whoever's causing this mist then?"
"With the spatial magic gone, Dante's path to the most dangerous enemy will be clear."
Weiss nodded. That made sense. There was still the matter of the rest of her team, as well as Penny, but finding them in this mist would be close to impossible. No, the best choice was to eliminate the spatial magic. That would make it easy for everyone to group up. Until then, she would have to hope that the others had also been lucky enough to find themselves close to one of the five demons protecting this town.
"There is no better way to learn than by application. Your training begins here and now, child. Do not fall behind."
At his words, the candle flames extinguished, leaving the house shrouded in darkness.
"What are you doing?" Weiss cried out, alarmed.
"Focus. Make your own light."
Weiss closed her eyes, focusing on her innate power, her Semblance. The ability to summon the elements was one she had honed for a long time. As she raised her palm, a small sphere of fire appeared just above it. Its light was weak: Weiss could barely see more than a few feet around her. A moment later, the flame began to flicker, and its light dimmed.
"It isn't working! This dark… it's not normal!"
It felt as though the darkness was deliberately dampening the flame, smothering it.
"The attention span and memory of a goldfish. How tragic."
"Hey! Less insults, please!"
"Only when you start using your head and acting like a competent mage."
"I'm trying! You haven't taught me how to counter demonic power!"
"Haven't I? I told you before. False Magic cannot overcome Demonic Power."
"I know that!"
"Then why are you trying to use it?"
Weiss opened her mouth, then stopped once his words sunk in. False Magic. Her Semblance was False Magic. Because it was bound by the laws of physics. Because it had limits. But she had no idea how to draw out anything else. Her Semblance was the only form of sorcery she knew. The idea of bending reality with her will, the way Demons did, seemed impossible to her. Trying to somehow bring that sort of power out of herself with brute force was pointless. It was like trying to bench press a mountain: utterly useless unless one already had the strength to do it.
Wait. That's it.
A power she already had.
One that demons were vulnerable to.
She focused. All Semblances were tied to the auras of their wielders, drawing their power from them. But she had never truly tried to focus that aura into her magic. Refinement, control, skill. She had worked on all of that. But no human could ever match a demon when it came to those. But humans had one thing that demons didn't.
Closing her eyes, she tried to pour it into the sphere of flame in her hand. Willing it to flow into the fire. Praying for it to do so. She felt her aura surge in response, and opened her eyes.
The flame was stronger, and it no longer flickered. Its light bathed the entire room.
"You've found the answer."
Weiss blinked. Several times.
"I just… prayed."
"Precisely."
"I don't understand."
Malevar clicked his teeth in annoyance, as though dealing with a child who had difficulty understanding something very obvious.
"Demons are sundered from Divinity. Put more truly, they are separated from God Himself. God is many things. Faith. Hope. Demons do not possess those qualities. Nor do they aspire to them."
Weiss stared at him sceptically.
"And this helps me how?"
"Prayer is an expression of hope. Hope comes from the heart. It is a way for humans to aspire to God, and a way in which His Power shines in them. Throughout the history of Earth, many different peoples and cultures have all prayed in different ways. And those prayers have all had the power to repel demons, so long as they came from an honest heart and soul.
Did I not say before?
Faith is the foundation of all Magic."
The heiress stared at him, then at the fireball she was holding, then at him again.
"Yang is going to lose her mind," she said. "You really were serious about weaponizing faith."
Malevar walked over to the door and opened it.
"Keep up," he said. "I have no patience for sluggards."
With that, he stepped outside with long strides.
"Wait up, you!" shouted Weiss, jogging after him.
The snake did not slow down, continuing to move forward with purpose.
"What are we even looking for?" Weiss asked.
"Imperfections," the sorcerer answered. "This sort of magic reeks of an amateur. He would have left some unintended gaps in his construction, gaps through which we will reach him." He continued, occasionally stopping to stare at some seemingly random patch of air, or bit of pavement, or one of the walls. It looked like strange behaviour, but Weiss was growing used to the idea that demons essentially looked at the physical world as one large piece of fabric, that could be folded, manipulated, bent or even torn as desired. As such, it didn't matter much to the snake if it was stone, air or wood.
He's looking for holes in the structure of reality.
She paused a moment, and considered that sentence.
… The world really has gone mad.
Shaking her head, she walked up to him.
"Found it,", he said.
"That was quick."
He scoffed.
"Of course. As I said, this is sloppy work. And nothing annoys me more."
He snapped his fingers, and the stone wall in front of him peeled apart, revealing a glowing purple portal. Without another word, he entered.
"Will you stop rushing off without me?"
Weiss ran after him. There was a split second, right before she entered the portal, when realisation hit her. This was the point of no return. She stepped forward, past the threshold.
On the other side, she found herself… in outer space?!
"What the…?"
All around, as far as she could see, was the vast darkness of the night sky. In the distance, stars glittered, far clearer than they appeared when she looked up from Vale or Atlas. On instinct, she looked downward, and felt her heart jump nearly to her mouth. There was no ground under her feet, only sky. Far, far, far below was a place that should have been familiar, yet seemed strange. After all, she had never seen it in its entirety. Indeed, all of the established science said that it was impossible to actually travel beyond the atmosphere.
Yet, here she stood, looking down on Remnant. Her head spun. Turning, she saw the sun, in all its glory. Still far, further than humans could instinctively comprehend, and yet, looming larger by far than it did to those who stood on land.
"What's going on?" she said, turning to Malevar.
She was half expecting the serpent to look unimpressed.
After all, he had once destroyed an entire dimension.
To her alarm, she saw an actual look of worry on his face. Following the direction of his glance, she slowly turned her head, until she saw the reason.
Standing on nothing, just like the two of them, was a demon.
Weiss knew he was a demon, because there was nothing else he possibly could be. But in shape, he looked entirely ordinary, entirely human. His form was that of an old man, with a long beard that hung all the way down to his waist. His face was lined with age, and veins showed through on his hands. Yet, his posture was good, unbowed by the decay time brought. He was clothed in black robes.
"You…" Malevar breathed. He sounded unnerved. "What are you doing here?"
The old man, who hadn't even been looking at them, turned to glance at the serpent, finally noticing him.
"Eh? Ah, it's you. Been quite a while, old fellow, hasn't it?" His tone was calm, cordial even.
That in itself was immediately a red flag in Weiss' book.
You see, overt aggression, growling and screaming, hurling insults and trying to intimidate?
Weiss had seen that kind of thing from lesser demons.
But when a demon was calm and polite, smiled and was actually nice?
Every time that had happened, the demon had turned out to be monstrously strong.
And Weiss had realised why that was.
It's quite simple, really. Intimidation was the tactic used by those who wanted to avoid a fight. Those who were truly strong didn't bother with it, because they held in their hands the power needed to beat down anyone who went against them. Whenever they felt like it.
And when it came to demons, that sort of power meant the ability to effortlessly alter worlds.
Malevar frowned.
"Old? Have you looked at yourself recently?"
The old man scoffed.
"Come on, old chap. You're at least three hundred thousand years older than me. By rights, I could call you a grandfather."
"Shut it, you whippersnapper! No child of mine would go around sleeping with humans."
At this point, Weiss, utterly lost, couldn't help but interject.
"I'm sorry, what now?"
"The old man is a cambion," Malevar said, not missing a beat.
"A what?"
"Half demon, half human, child," the old man supplied kindly.
It took a few seconds for the problematic part of this to sink in. Weiss, being the studious, attentive one out of her team, had paid close attention to everything Malevar had said. And really, much of it could be summed up into a single idea.
Demon and human power combined?
Unbelievably potent.
That old man… is the same as Dante?
"Hey," she said warily. "Who is that?"
There was grudging respect in Malevar's voice as he answered, mixed with no small amount of wariness.
"That… is the greatest wizard who has ever lived. Merlinus Ambrosius."
Weiss' eyes widened.
The old man bowed politely.
"You're too kind. I simply do what I can."
As he raised his head, his eyes flashed briefly, and the very space around them all trembled for a moment.
Lord of Wizards, Merlin
Malevar clenched his teeth.
"What are you doing in this world? You aren't the source of this spatial warp. This sort of work is too sloppy to be your doing."
"Ah, the mist? Of course. I'd never resort to such a crude tactic. It's only used by the lowest of the low."
"Indeed. You wouldn't mind telling us who it is, then?"
Merlin shook his head.
"Unfortunately, I cannot do that, old fellow. I'm bound by a geass to serve the future King of Demonkind."
Malevar's frown deepened several shades.
"The only future King of Demons is Dante, Son of Sparda."
Merlin's face bore a look of disappointment. Even sadness.
"If that is truly what you believe, then I have no choice. Such a shame, Malevar. I always had the utmost respect for the Titan of the First Flame, the Serpent of the Apple."
Weiss had no time to react, before two universe shattering forces collided.
Blake stopped running.
"You hear that?" she said.
Ruby nodded.
The two of them unsheathed their weapons, and prepared for combat. They could hear footsteps approaching. Purposeful. Heavy. Both of them raised their guns, ready to fire. A moment later, the wall of fog broke, and a tall figure stepped through, far larger than any human.
"Oh, it's just you," said Ruby. She looked the giantess up and down. Seated on her shoulders was a young boy she didn't recognise, but she decided not to comment on it. Right now didn't seem to be a good time.
Valkyrie's face remained serious.
"Do not drop your guard", she said. "This place is dangerous now. Until we escape the mist, there is no safety."
"What's going on?" Blake asked. All of her Faunus instincts were telling her that she was in extreme danger. Nowhere was safe. Not Hoperow… and not the world outside.
"We are being hunted," the demoness replied.
"By who?" asked Ruby.
Valkyrie did not reply immediately. Her senses, being hundreds of times as sharp as any human's, had already detected something approaching.
She held one hand out to the side, and in it, her golden zweihander materialised.
Taking the que, the two huntresses shifted their weapons to melee forms. Their hearts pounded in their chests. Senses stretched to their maximum, nerves firing at their peak, the smallest movement of the air could trigger them into moving.
Yet, when it came, neither of them could react.
Something shot through the mist, moving with blinding speed.
All Ruby could see was the flash of gold. A fraction of a moment later, she heard the sound of metal tearing through flesh.
She wheeled around.
Valkyrie stood with two hands on her sword, which hung just an inch above the ground. Blood dripped from the blade.
Seven feet away, crouched over, bleeding was a figure in a black suit.
Slowly, he raised himself to his full height. As he did so, the tear in his suit, as well as the wound on his flesh, repaired itself. In form, he looked like an ordinary human. Yet, the malice and energy he was radiating could not possibly be human. He adjusted his monocle, as he turned to face Valkyrie. His face was scarred, its face twisted. A pair of scarlet eyes stared at the demoness.
"Tch. Just had ta get in the way, didn't ya, ya old wanker."
Valkyrie did not seem put off in the slightest by the profanity. Her frown deepened, and a look of distaste came over her face.
"Venomous filth. Of all the living excrement that could have attacked this place, it just had to be you. This mist is your doing, isn't it?"
The suited figure spat on the ground.
"Damn right it is. It's all about atmosphere, innit? Gotta set up a mood for what we're doing here."
"The slaughter of innocents. It won't happen. This town is under my protection."
"Innocents? What a load of shit. They're all filthy piles of flesh. Every last one o' 'em. And they're my canvas. Save the moral lectures for someone who gives a fuck."
The sheer hatred in his voice could barely be contained in his words. It went far beyond lust for blood or violence. He considered the very human race an inferior thing, something to be toyed with and destroyed, not only for sport, but because it was the right thing to do.
Blake hadn't felt hatred like that before in her life. Not from the most bigoted Atlas officials. Not from the most vengeful White Fang members.
Ruby, who had, for the greatest part of her life, grown up around fundamentally decent people, didn't even know that venom like that could exist.
As for Oscar, who had never been face to face with someone who wanted to take his life before, he could barely breathe, paralysed by fear.
Valkyrie swung her sword, sending a gust of wind that momentarily blew away the mist and dark.
"You'll die here, like the pathetic wretch you are, Jack."
The suited man twisted his own neck, well past the point of breaking. The sounds of vertebrae being disconnected audibly crackled and crunched in the night, only to be followed by yet more sounds, as the bones automatically twisted themselves back into the right position.
"Really don't like it when people call me that."
He held both hands out to the side, and in each, a spinning knife appeared, curved, stained red with blood.
Remorseless Spirit of Murder, Jack the Ripper
Ruby glanced at Valkyrie?
"... Jack? His name's Jack?"
It was hard to believe that a terrifying demon could have such a mundane, human name.
Yet, Valkyrie's face was deadly serious as she answered.
"Yes. That name was not one he was born with. It was a name given to him by the people of England, whom he terrified. He murdered and butchered the innocent. Over time, the fear and hatred of the people he terrorised transformed him into a demon. A fitting fate for one who had long given up his soul."
Jack the Ripper spat on the ground once more.
"Fuckin' bollocks. I'll shut that mouth up for good, mark my words."
When the attack came, it was so quick, none of them could react to it. Not even Valkyrie.
It was only after she had been slashed that she realised that it had never been about speed at all.
The mist… he isn't causing it. He is the mist. In this place, he is everywhere, and nowhere.
Jack the Ripper wasn't just a serial killer. Not anymore.
He had become the aura of fear and terror that had hung over Whitechapel. Where the mist and dark existed, so too did he.
Hoperow had already been turned into Whitechapel. The innocent folk of the town were not designated sacrifices.
They had already been sacrificed.
Yang woke up, slowly opening her eyes.
"Unhh… what happened?"
She sat up slowly, looking around. In every direction, as far as she could see, was sheer, absolute nothingness. An endless field of pure black.
"Awake at last! Took you longer than I expected."
Turning around, she saw, floating in mid air, the Martial Artist named Sura. He appeared to be reclining in the air, as though laying back on cushions.
Yang shook her head, struggling to recall what had happened. She remembered trying to fight him, getting swatted aside time and again, effortlessly. And then she remembered Cu Chulainn willingly giving his power to her, becoming a Devil Arm. She remembered combining everything she was, with him. Fighting Sura together. And then… nothing.
"Something's wrong. Me and the big guy… we fought you together."
"You did, yes. It was quite enjoyable."
When he noticed Yang was staring at him with wide eyes, he blinked a few times, until it sunk in.
"... You didn't actually think you were going to win, did you?"
Yang felt a blush creeping onto her face.
The question hadn't been mocking in the slightest. It had been completely honest and matter-of-fact. The very idea of her defeating him was so ridiculous, he was genuinely surprised she had even considered it remotely possible… and it was embarrassing as all hell.
"Stop laughing at me!" she yelled, looking around for things to throw at him.
"But I wasn't laughing," he protested.
"Shut it" she shot back. "You and me, right now. Right here. Round two."
"I really wouldn't recommend it. Whether it's two rounds or two thousand, I do not see the results changing."
"We'll see about that!"
Kipping up to her feet, she held her hand to the side. The golden staff manifested in it. Once more, she could hear the big guy's voice in her head.
He is strong. Do not take him lightly.
I won't, she replied. We can win, together.
Cu Chulainn hummed in assent, and together, the two of them faced down their opponent.
Sura remained reclined, floating on nothing. He blinked and stared at them for a while, then sighed.
"Fine. You do have potential, the both of you. I might as well make the most of that."
He straightened, allowing his feet to lightly rest on the ground (or lack thereof) on which they all stood.
"Come. Hold nothing back. Every attack should be meant to kill."
"You don't have to tell me twice!" Yang yelled back.
The power of the Devil Arm coursed through her, combining with her own Aura. She shot forward, thrusting the golden staff at him.
Sura blocked it with his index finger, no signs of tension anywhere on his body.
Yang gritted her teeth, putting every last bit of her strength, and Cu Chulainn's, into trying to drive him back.
She couldn't budge him.
"When up against a stronger opponent, do not seek to outmatch him."
"Shut it!"
Yang pushed, and pushed.
Sura sighed, and tipped his finger forward. Yang was sent hurtling backward, off balance. The blonde struggled to regain her footing. It had been the smallest of movements, the tiniest fraction of effort. And yet, the force behind it was unstoppable. It wouldn't have mattered if it was Yang in his path, or an entire world.
The blonde growled, and rushed in again.
This time, she focused on her speed.
Feinting to the front, she used Cu Chulainn's power to explosively accelerate, to replicate the effect of teleporting. She reappeared to the martial artist's left, thrusting the staff right at his head, aiming to cave it in.
He casually leaned back, avoiding the hit.
"Do not telegraph your attacks. Be not too eager. It gives away your intentions."
"Shut. Up!"
Yang unleashed a barrage of thrusts.
Sura effortlessly dodges every one of them, leaning his head and torso to the side and back, not needing to move from where he was standing at all. When he had made his point, he stepped forward and kicked Yang's legs away from under her, sending her tumbling.
"Be mindful of your footing. A careless warrior is easy to defeat."
Yang rolled away quickly.
That strength and those reflexes… How am I supposed to beat someone like that?
It was true.
As much as it annoyed her to admit, she could not see any limit to his strength, nor could she imagine catching him off-guard, no matter how quickly or unpredictably she moved. No matter how much she wished otherwise, the difference in power could not be denied.
She hesitated.
It was at that moment that Sura spoke. Not mockingly, but with complete sincerity.
"The true measure of a fighter is what she does when facing an opponent who outmatches her in every way."
It was as if electricity had shot through her.
Sura walked towards her. Stopping right in front, he settled into a low stance, holding one hand open in front of her. Realising what was happening, Yang settled into a low stance herself, putting her forearm against his. Locked thus, the two martial artists waited, each looking for the perfect moment to strike.
Yang felt tense.
His reactions are better.
His initiative is better.
He's stronger.
Faster.
Has more techniques.
He's more skilled.
He'll see the hit coming.
He'll hit first.
A storm of doubts assailed her mind.
But as she looked into Sura's eyes, all of those thoughts ceased to matter.
The past doesn't exist. And neither does the future. There is only the here and the now.
No winning. No losing.
Only the fight.
Doubts melted away.
Sura nodded in approval. Pulling his hand down, Yang struck with a right straight. The god caught her arm and pulled it out of the way, countering with a backfist which knocked her down.
"Too eager. Be ready for reactions. Not tense, but ready. Again."
Once more, they locked arms.
This time, Sura struck first. A jab faster than light, with more power than a million exploding stars.
Not in all her lifetimes would Yang Xiao Long have had the strength or speed to stop such a blow.
But she didn't need to.
Connected as she was to him, their souls were one. In that moment, she could see the blow coming.
Slipping her head to the side, she countered with a backfist that he blocked.
"Good reaction. Now strike where the opponent's guard is not."
For the third time, they locked arms.
"All your life, you've been told anger is a weakness, haven't you?" said Sura, surprising her. "But have you ever told a cyclone to calm down? Or a raging fire to be cool?
How can you change your nature when you've never embraced it?"
Yang stared at him with wide eyes.
"I… I…"
"Don't worry. I can take it. Hit me with all of your anger."
Yang breathed deep.
Holding nothing back, she swung right away, aiming for where he would be weakest, right between his legs.
Sura casually bent his leg to the side, blocking the strike with his knee.
The failed attack only stoked Yang's fire more. She followed up with a brutal right hook, which he again blocked effortlessly, putting his forearm against hers before slamming her in the face with his palm.
"Again. I sense more anger. More power. Let's see all of it."
Roaring aloud, Yang allowed all of her consciousness to melt away. Every deliberate thought, every doubt. Self-awareness, restraint, fear. It all disappeared. The only thing that remained was instinct. Attack after attack she unleashed, swinging with complete abandon, without fear of a counter blow. Dimly, she was aware that some of her hits connected. She didn't know how much time had passed. Or how many times she had struck. But finally, something broke through the anger.
Pain.
She went to kick, only to stumble when she couldn't lift her leg. Her hip muscles felt like they were torn. Her shins were bleeding, and felt broken.
With the veil of anger gone, her Semblance faded, and she felt the effects of all of the damage she had accumulated. Grimacing, struggling, she forced herself to look at Sura, who stood before her, completely relaxed, completely unharmed.
"The raging wave that crashes against the mountain does not die," he said. "It lives on, in the waters, and rises again. Once more."
He got into his low stance again, extending his arm as before.
Yang could not extend her own to meet it.
Try as she might, she could not move her body towards his again.
Thousands, millions of times she had struck him, and she had been the one to get hurt, not him. The fear of his invincible frame had been imprinted onto each and every one of her cells, recorded in every atom of every molecule in her body. On a fundamental level, she was terrified of him.
"You have been defeated, Yang Xiao Long. Overpowered, outmatched, your spirit broken.
You have died.
Only now is your fight beginning.
Rise, and be reborn."
She hesitated, shivering.
Sura's form changed. Where there had been a youthful, unmarked man, there now stood an older warrior. His body muscular, his bones thick, his skin scarred, his face burnt. Embedded in his back and shoulders were enormous arrows that would have felled dragons.
Yang's eyes widened.
What she was witnessing wasn't an illusion.
Even the god of fighting bore his share of wounds.
"Fear is not the end, Yang Xiao Long. It is the beginning. All strength comes from courage. Now rise, and prove you are braver than your fears."
Yang felt her heart beat, in spite of her fear. Inside, she heard Cu Chulainn's voice.
You are not alone.
That's right.
She took a step forward. The golden staff manifested once more, and she rested it against Sura's muscled forearm.
At that moment, something overpowered Yang's fear.
Hope.
There was no anger. No desperation. She didn't need to be stronger than him. Or faster. Only strong and fast enough. She didn't need to be more skilled. Only skilled enough. She didn't need to be eager. Only able to take the opportunity when it came.
With her body too exhausted and damaged to rely on her muscles, everything was forced to the utmost efficiency. Her stance was formed of bones stacked on each other, propping her in position mechanically. Her breathing was relaxed, avoiding all unevenness to avoid taxing her lungs. Her heartbeat evened out, and she felt a flood of hormones douse her nervous system.
At that moment in time, with her weakened body, Yang relied entirely on her technique, which reached its peak.
The fear was still there, but she felt relaxed.
Death comes for us all. But we can choose to meet it with courage.
It was Sura who struck first. As before, it was a simple jab. Yet, one that could smash entire worlds. Yang felt it coming even before it was unleashed. She slipped her head to the side.
He'll counter my counter.
As predicted, Sura reached out and grabbed her head, pulling it down into a knee strike. Yang leaned back, snaking away from his grip instead of trying to overcome it. The knee brushed past her skull, barely missing it. Angling to her right, Yang swung the staff backwards, using leverage.
He'll avoid the strike.
Again, she was right. Sura leaned back to avoid the hit.
Led forward by curiosity, Yang continued to follow the flow of battle. Always, she was able to see his moves coming, able to read the flow by one step. Her sense of time faded away. How many blows had they exchanged, countered, dodged? She didn't know.
But she no longer needed to think. Seeing his attacks coming, and dancing around them became completely natural.
Every now and then, she would make an error, and Sura would tap her lightly, and she would recognise what she had done wrong.
This continued, hundreds of thousands of times.
Until at last, she could see the flow, undistorted.
An endless chain of blows and counterblows. Action and reaction. Strength and weakness. Ebb and flow. Positive and negative.
The yin and the yang that composed all of existence.
Combat was just one manifestation of that existence.
It had existed long before humans. And it would continue to exist long after humans.
When her opponent fell out of that endless flow, an opening appeared, and she could strike.
"I see now," she said. "I see it all."
Sura could not be hit, because he was the flow. And so, to fight against him, she had to endlessly counter, and be countered.
Both Yang and Cu Chulainn reached the solution simultaneously.
He cannot be overcome with strength, because he is Strength.
He cannot be beaten in combat, because he is Combat.
He was both the unstoppable force, and the immovable object. When faced with him, the only way to win was simple.
Yang stretched out her arms. The staff disappeared, as she laid herself open, accepting her fate.
Sura's fist stopped, an inch from her sternum.
"Is this the path the two of you have chosen?"
Yang looked into his eyes. They were no longer those of a youthful man. These were the eyes of one who had seen every battle that had ever been fought, and every battle that would ever be. They had loved, and they had grieved. They had won, and they had lost.
Yang could look into those eyes without hatred. Because even a god had experienced the same things she had.
"The final step is one where the sword need not be held in one's hand, or even in one's heart," she said. "All is one, and one is all."
The flow would continue. Her body might die, but her soul would live on, eternal. In the end, all would return to the One from whom they came.
Sura lowered his hand. His form reverted to that of the young man. The light returned to his eyes, but Yang could now see the wisdom and sadness behind his smile.
"Well done. That was outstanding. Gold Dragon of Remnant, and Ireland's Child of Light. The truth of martial arts is now revealed to you both. The power and skills of combat, yours to explore as you see fit."
Yang sank to her knees. There was genuine gratitude in her. And yet, the tears poured down her eyes.
"Why cry? You should be rejoicing. You have seen the Truth."
She wiped her eyes.
"I know that," she said. "It's just… I died. You killed me."
At some point during her training, she had realised why the passage of time here had seemed, in a way, inconsequential. She's also become aware of the glowing halo floating above her head.
"I did, yes. You fought so bravely, it would have been an insult to take it too easy on you. If it's any consolation, I made sure it didn't hurt."
Yang gave him a deadpan stare. "Gee, thanks a lot," she said, trying to inject all the sarcasm she possibly could into the words.
"You are quite welcome," he replied, with his usual sincerity.
Damn it all. He's immune to all attacks, even verbal ones. And I thought Dante could be annoyingly overpowered.
"Look, you don't get it," she said. "You're all… weirdly enlightened and stuff. But the rest of us? We like living. With friends. With family. And I wanted to spend years and years more with them."
Sura sighed, shrugging.
"I don't understand you mortals at all. When you're alive, you seek freedom. And when you're dead, you want to live again."
"Hey, we can't help it, all right? Grass always greener on the other side."
He looked at the dejected blonde for a moment, then sighed again.
"... Fine. I dislike it when people sit and mope."
Yang's gaze sharpened.
"Wait, you don't mean…"
"I will take you back to the world of the living."
So overjoyed was the blonde that she leapt to her feet and rushed to hug him… only for him to step aside. She stumbled past, barely stopping herself from falling over.
"Hey, what gives!" she said, annoyed.
"Sorry. Force of habit."
She glared, but couldn't really find it in herself to stay angry for long. Out of all the people she had met in her life, only two were the kind she was all right with having ultimate power. Dante, of course, was one. And the fighter in front of her now was the other. If all demons and deities had been like him…
Maybe there wouldn't have been a need for devil hunters at all.
Still, that raised questions.
She looked on as Sura casually curled his fingers and grabbed nothingness, the fabric the afterlife was made of, and ripped it apart, creating a portal out with his bare hands.
"Hey, Sura. Why did you come to Remnant? Was it really just for a good fight?"
He glanced back at her. For a brief moment, his face was uncharacteristically serious.
"If only it were that simple. Unfortunately, I have urgent business with your teacher."
"With Dante…"
Of course.
"What do you want with him?" she said. By now, she knew that the Martial Artist had a code of honour, and could even be kind in his own way. Nevertheless, demons and gods did not have the same way of thinking as humans. Any business that was deemed urgent by them couldn't be good news for the regular people.
"The balance of the universes has been altered, Yang Xiao Long. All of existence is at stake. What is happening in Remnant now goes far beyond a few demon lords and would-be deities."
He widened the portal, and stepped aside, gesturing politely for Yang to walk through.
"All worlds are at stake. And Dante is the key to saving them."