Note: Wow, three chapters in three days! Thank you to everyone who left comments yesterday. Your words gave me the impetus to work harder on editing the next chapter, and lo and behold, here it is. I was going to do my usual Monday morning update, but I thought, why not give it to you now. I hope you enjoy it.
Also, many of you commented, asking why Bella doesn't just cause the Volturi to explode or slice and dice them with her shield. Let's face it—Bella could do some pretty serious and crazy stuff if she wanted to. But we have to remember that Bella is trying to keep her powers under wraps, and during this fight, she's hoping she doesn't have to kill everyone. Plus, Yoshitaka is watching, and she has no intention of killing him. If the fight were just Bella and another vampire with no witnesses, maybe she would have gone all Super Bella… or maybe not. I kind of think Bella is the type of person who likes doing things with her own two hands and not taking the easy way out, like just slicing everyone's heads off—at least when the situation doesn't call for it. Now, let's continue that battle!
Chapter 44: Showdown at Mount Omine
Bella stood her ground, her eyes hard and unyielding as she watched the three remaining vampires. The wind swept across the mountaintop, rustling her hair and carrying the scent of the carnage that had already taken place. Bella's words, though calm and measured, echoed in the stillness around them. "It doesn't have to end like this. Take your men and go. You can still choose another path."
She knew, even as she spoke, that her plea was in vain. These vampires had already revealed their true nature—cruel, ruthless, and bloodthirsty. The two gray-cloaked vampires standing behind the man in black exchanged uneasy glances, their bravado crumbling in the face of the very real possibility that they might share the same fate as their fallen comrades. Fear flickered in their eyes, a stark contrast to the rage boiling within their leader.
The tall vampire, who had been giving orders with the confidence of a man used to getting his way, was no longer smiling. His expression had twisted into one of pure fury. He straightened his posture, somehow making his already imposing frame seem even larger, his muscles taut with barely contained anger. Compared to his towering presence, Bella's womanly frame seemed almost fragile—an illusion she knew she could use to her advantage.
"You've made a terrible mistake, little girl," he snarled, his voice like ice as it cut through the air. There was no warmth in his words, only the promise of violence. "Michael, with me. Claude, keep Yoshi secured."
Bella's eyes narrowed as she took in the vampire's command. The tall vampire's confidence was clearly born from years of unchallenged authority, and she could see that he was used to others cowering before him. But she was not intimidated.
Bella's eyes locked onto the tall vampire, her body tensing in readiness. His determination was unmistakable, his resolve to end her clear in the cold, hard gleam of his eyes. Both vampires charged, their speed blurring in the morning sun, their forms a mere flash of movement as they closed the distance.
The tall vampire reached her first, but Bella was ready. With a deft maneuver, she used his momentum against him, sending him careening away, leaving her momentarily alone with his lackey. The underling swung at her with a vicious punch, but Bella dodged it effortlessly, sidestepping his next attack with the grace of a dancer. As he overextended himself, she moved in, her hands snapping out with the speed she had seen Jasper use when he had executed this maneuver so effectively on her. She grabbed his head, the motion swift and brutal. With a powerful twist, she felt the satisfying crack of his neck, and without hesitation, she tore his head from his body. The head hit the ground with a dull thud, his body crumpling beside it.
But there was no time to savor the victory. The tall vampire was already upon her, his roar of fury echoing across the mountaintop like a demon's wail. His punch came like a sledgehammer, so powerful that even with her shield absorbing the brunt of it, the impact sent Bella tumbling end over end, the stone floor of the mountaintop tearing at her clothes. She rebounded swiftly, her feet finding purchase before he could press his advantage.
This vampire was different from the others—stronger, faster, more experienced. His punches came in rapid succession, each one intended to end her. His fists hammered against her shield, the force of his blows rattling her despite the protection. He was clearly confused, frustrated that his attacks weren't having the desired effect. But Bella wasn't just on the defensive; she was analyzing his movements, finding the gaps in his technique.
With a feral growl, he aimed a devastating punch at her head, but Bella ducked, moving with inhuman speed, and countered with a flurry of strikes to his midsection. Each blow landed with precision, driving him back. She followed up with a side kick to his knee, watching with satisfaction as he stumbled, his balance momentarily compromised.
Bella saw her opening and didn't hesitate. She darted in close, her knee slamming into his balls with all the force she could muster. The impact lifted him off his feet, and before he could recover, Bella grabbed his arm and, with a primal scream of defiance, yanked down, tearing it from its socket. His scream of agony echoed across the mountaintop, but Bella didn't falter. Gripping the severed arm like a baseball bat, she swung it hard against his head, the impact resonating like a cannon shot across the mountaintop as it sent the tall vampire spinning.
The final vampire hesitated, torn between abandoning his post guarding the man they had come to harass and rushing to help his superior. Regardless, he was too late to act. Bella kicked the tall vampire's knees out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. Now on his knees and dazed, the vampire might have realized his errors as he stared at the man he had come to torment and kill, but Bella would never know, as she didn't give him a chance to recover.
In an instant, she was behind him, her hands gripping his massive head. With a brutal wrench, she tore it from his body and then kicked the headless corpse hard in the back, sending it crashing to the ground. The impact of his body hitting the stone floor was so loud and powerful that it echoed like a thunderclap, shaking the entire mountaintop.
The remaining vampire, who had finally come to help, stopped just feet away, hesitating at the sight of his leader's decapitated, twitching body. Fear and uncertainty played across his features. His eyes met Bella's, and in that moment, he knew he was outmatched. But Bella didn't give him time to decide whether to fight or flee. She pounced, her movements a blur, and within seconds, she had torn his head from his body before he could even put up a defense.
Bella stood amidst the carnage, her eyes scanning the scene with a mix of disbelief and horror. The mountaintop was littered with the remains of the vampires she had just fought, their decapitated bodies still twitching with unnatural energy. She had never witnessed anything like this before. The reality of it was unsettling—she had done this, her hands had ripped them apart one by one.
The sight of their still-wriggling bodies was unnerving. Limbs spasmed involuntarily, fingers clawing at the air as if searching for something to grasp onto. The severed heads were no less disturbing. Bella's gaze fell on the tall vampire's head, lying on its side, his eyes darting wildly as if searching for the rest of his body. Was he still aware, still conscious in some twisted way? The thought made her shudder.
Bella's mind drifted back to her encounter with that redheaded bitch who had threatened her with this very same fate. The memory was vivid—her crazed exuberance as she described, in vivid detail, burying Bella's head for all eternity, condemning her to a never-ending torment. She couldn't imagine a worse fate, an existence trapped in darkness, unable to move or escape, just… existing.
Bella's gaze shifted to the Japanese man still kneeling on the ground, his body tense with his eyes locked onto hers. His severed arms had been tossed a short distance away, twitching on the ancient stone floor. He hadn't moved or spoken since the fight ended, his expression unreadable.
As Bella took a step toward him, she noticed how his posture stiffened, muscles tensing as if ready for another attack. Despite missing both arms, he rose to his feet, adopting a defensive stance.
Bella paused, raising her hands in a calming gesture, her voice gentle as she addressed him in Japanese, hoping to ease the tension that hung thick in the air. "It's okay. You can relax," she said, her tone soothing, trying to convey that she was not a threat. "I mean you no harm. I'm just going to bring you your arms so we can reattach them. Okay?"
Yoshitaka didn't know what to make of the woman who had suddenly appeared at his moment of greatest need. He had been defenseless, on his knees, prepared to die when an unfamiliar scent reached his nose. He looked up, expecting it to be another member of the Volturi, but when he saw Santiago, who was blocking his view, stiffen his stance, he realized this newcomer was unfamiliar to the Volturi as well.
When Santiago finally stepped aside, Yoshitaka got his first look at the woman who had disrupted what would have been his final moments. She stood tall, unwavering, her gaze fixed on the five Volturi members before her. Her long brunette hair billowed in the wind, moving like silk as she faced down the group. But there was no fear in her eyes, only a quiet confidence that left him puzzled about her intentions. He heard her speak, her voice firm as she asked the Volturi to leave him alone and depart.
Yoshitaka watched, his confusion deepening, as she engaged the Volturi in battle. She moved with lethal precision, dismantling each opponent with a skill that left little room for error. As he watched her fight, he saw she was skilled, but he still couldn't understand how she was defeating the Volturi—all trained killers—so easily. And why was she doing this in the first place? This conflict between him and the Volturi had nothing to do with her. Yet, as she defeated each vampire, including one of the Volturi's top men, he knew one thing for certain: he owed this strange woman his life.
When the last of his attackers had fallen, Yoshitaka was still trying to process what had just happened. Hearing her say she was there to help him, he finally collected his bearings and bowed deeply. When he straightened, he met her gaze and spoke in a tone that conveyed the seriousness of the moment.
"Thank you for coming to my aid. I am in your debt. My name is Yoshitaka."
Bella bowed in return. As she lifted her head, a warm smile spread across her face, her eyes meeting his with a blend of kindness and confidence. "It's an honor to meet you, Yoshitaka. My name is Bella. Bella Swan."
Bella moved purposefully toward Yoshitaka's severed left arm, the limb twitching slightly as she picked it up. It was an unsettling sensation, holding onto someone's detached arm, feeling the faint, residual movements as if it still possessed a mind of its own. She then moved to retrieve his right arm, the weight of it a stark reminder of the violence that had just taken place.
As she walked back to Yoshitaka, she could feel his gaze following her, a mix of confusion and curiosity in his eyes. She carefully placed his right arm at his feet, the limb resting on the ancient stone floor. "Please hold still," she instructed softly as she stood next to him.
Yoshitaka nodded in silent acknowledgment, his posture rigid as she took his left arm and began the careful process of aligning it with the jagged stump at his shoulder. Bella had never done anything like this before, having no experience with reattaching limbs, and she wanted to be careful not to mess up. Finally satisfied with its alignment, she stood still, her arms frozen in place, allowing Yoshitaka's arm to do whatever it needed to do to reattach to his body.
After a minute, Yoshitaka finally spoke, his voice low and tinged with both gratitude and confusion. "Why did you rescue me? We have no shared history."
Bella looked up and smiled at him. "I happened to be exploring the mountains nearby when I heard the sounds of your fight," she began. "At first, I wasn't sure what I was hearing—whether it was a real fight or just some sparring between two vampires."
She glanced over at the decapitated body of the tall man, his once-imposing figure now a husk of what it had been, sprawled on the ancient stone floor, his neckhole still oozing venom, creating a widening puddle. "But when I came upon the scene and listened to that man," she continued, nodding toward the body, "I didn't like how he was treating you. The way he spoke, the cruelty in his actions... it was clear to me that something was very wrong with them."
Bella's smile widened slightly, a hint of playfulness in her expression as she looked back at Yoshitaka. "So, I stepped in. I hope I was correct in assuming they were the bad guys in this encounter?" She tilted her head, her eyes searching his face for a reaction, hoping to coax out a smile from the serious-looking vampire.
Finally, Yoshitaka nodded, his expression somber. "Yes," he agreed, "they were most certainly the bad guys, as you so aptly put it." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Bella's face, searching for any sign of recognition. "I have to assume you don't know who those men were, or the consequences of your actions?" His gaze remained fixed on her, but Bella's expression remained impassive, showing no indication that she understood the gravity of the situation.
"Those weren't just random vampires," he continued, his tone taking on a weightier seriousness. "They were members of the Volturi."
"For the past two centuries, about every fifty years or so, Aro has been sending emissaries to 'ask' me to join his guard," Yoshitaka explained, his voice laced with the bitterness of a man who had long resisted such coercion. "At first, it was just polite requests, veiled in their false pleasantries. But as the decades passed, the requests turned into outright threats. They grew tired of waiting, and as you just heard today, they showed their true nature. My choices were clear: serve them or die."
Yoshitaka's gaze drifted momentarily to the decapitated bodies around them, the remnants of the battle that had almost claimed his life. "I thank you for your assistance, Bella Swan," he said, his voice softening slightly, a note of genuine gratitude creeping in. "But I fear the danger is far from over. If we do not give these men their final deaths, they will come back for me. And now, because of your intervention, they would be looking for you as well."
The Volturi... shit. As Bella processed this new information, it seemed par for the course in her life. She takes out a group of vampire assholes for the first time, and just her luck—they happened to be the goddamn Volturi. Her gaze shifted to the scene around her—the decapitated bodies, the severed limbs. Though she was still glad to have saved the innocent vampire before her, Yoshitaka's words echoed in her mind. He had a point. Leaving witnesses alive was a dangerous gamble, one she wasn't willing to take now that she knew who these vampires were.
"Yeah… I didn't know it was them," Bella admitted, her voice calm, though a touch of wry humor colored her words. "And getting on their radar isn't exactly on my to-do list." Her eyes flicked to Yoshitaka's severed arm on the ground, then back to him, her resolve hardening. "Alright," she continued, nodding more to herself than to him, "we'll light a fire once your arms are back where they belong."
As she mentally prepared for the task of burning the bodies, she had to admit it was no different than when she immolated her meals. These guys were probably even worse than the drug dealers she usually dispatched. Seeing that they had time while Yoshitaka's arms mended, she offered him a small, encouraging smile. "While we wait, why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" she suggested, her tone lightening slightly. She hoped to ease the tension and maybe learn more about this mysterious vampire she had just saved. After all, she had intervened without knowing anything about him—only that he didn't deserve the fate the Volturi had intended.
Bella listened, completely enraptured as Yoshitaka began to share his life's tale. She found herself leaning in slightly, captivated by the richness of his voice and the weight of his words. To her astonishment, Yoshitaka revealed that he was over 950 years old—by far the oldest vampire she had ever encountered. The realization sent a ripple of awe through her; this was a vampire who had lived for nearly a millennium, witnessing the rise and fall of empires and seeing the world in ways she would never be able to.
As Yoshitaka spoke, his words painted vivid pictures in her mind. He recounted stories of life in Japan when the ancient temples Bella had enjoyed visiting were new. The thought fascinated her, and she couldn't help but ask if he could tell her about the ruins that surrounded them. Yoshitaka obliged, telling her of the grand temple that had once stood on the very ground where they now stood.
Bella's eyes wandered across the remnants of the temple floor, trying to visualize what Yoshitaka described. She imagined the stone floor beneath her feet gleaming, now part of a towering temple with sunlight streaming in through the large openings Yoshitaka described. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings, and the air was filled with the sound of monks chanting in harmony. She could almost see it—the temple alive with energy and purpose, a place of worship and power. The thought made her wish there was some way she could have seen it in its prime, to walk among its worshippers and feel the pulse of life that once thrived here.
When Yoshitaka paused in his story, Bella felt compelled to share a bit of her own. She didn't delve into the more extraordinary details of her life, but she told him how she had been changed roughly six years ago, alone with no idea what she had become. How she had wandered as a nomad for many years until, finally, she met Peter and Charlotte a year ago. She explained how they had taken her in and taught her to fight, and to navigate the complexities of vampire existence. As she spoke, she noticed Yoshitaka listening intently, his expression thoughtful, as if he was piecing together the puzzle of her life just as she had been doing with his.
Yoshitaka stood in quiet amazement, his mind reeling from the realization that this young vampire, with barely a year of training, had been able to dispatch five seasoned vampires with such ease—including one as skilled and ruthless as Santiago. It was a feat that he, despite his centuries of experience and reputation as one of the most formidable fighters in all of Japan, had failed to accomplish.
As he observed Bella, there was something about her presence that set her apart from other vampires he had encountered over his long life. She didn't set off the usual alarms of mistrust and wariness that he often felt in the presence of his own kind. There was an air of genuineness about her, a quiet strength paired with a sense of irony and humor that made him feel at ease in her company—a rare comfort in the cutthroat world they lived in. He couldn't recall the last time he had encountered someone who would step in so selflessly, without any apparent motive, to help a stranger in such a dire situation. Truthfully, he couldn't think of anyone who would have involved themselves at all, especially given the odds.
Once his arms were securely reattached and he felt the familiar sensation of strength returning to his limbs, Yoshitaka straightened and offered Bella another deep bow, a gesture of deep respect and gratitude. When he rose, his expression was sincere, his eyes reflecting the depth of his appreciation. "Is there some way I could repay you for your actions today?" he asked, his voice humble. "I don't keep much in the way of worldly possessions," he continued, his tone thoughtful, "but I would like to do something for you, to show my gratitude in whatever way I can."
Yoshitaka's offer was genuine, driven by a deep-seated sense of honor. He was not a vampire who easily felt indebted to others, but in this case, he knew that Bella had given him something he could never fully repay—his life. And in the world they lived in, such a gift was rare and precious, something he did not take lightly.
Bella hadn't intervened in Yoshitaka's fight with the Volturi out of a desire for riches or rewards. She wasn't some mercenary, driven by the prospect of gain. She had acted because it was the right thing to do, plain and simple. But as she considered Yoshitaka's offer, a thought occurred to her—there was something he possessed that would interest her far more than any material possession.
"Thank you for offering," Bella began, her voice sincere, "but I didn't help you looking for anything in return." She paused, a hopeful look crossing her face as she continued. "However, if you are offering, there is one thing that would greatly interest me."
"I watched you fighting those men," she said, her tone carrying a mix of admiration and curiosity, "and even while missing an arm, you were holding your own. Your fighting style is so unlike my own, and if you're agreeable, I would very much enjoy learning anything you'd be willing to teach me."
Her eyes met his, reflecting her genuine interest and eagerness to learn. "Knowledge, in all its different forms, is what I crave most in this new life of mine," she added, her voice tinged with quiet passion. "If you could share some of yours with me, it would be more than enough."
Bella knew that mastering different fighting styles was more than just acquiring new skills—it was about understanding different ways of thinking, different approaches to challenges. It was this hunger for knowledge, for growth, that drove her, and she hoped Yoshitaka would see that in her request.
Yoshitaka smiled for the first time that morning, the expression softening the hard lines of his face that had been etched in seriousness for so long. It had been close to 500 years since he had last trained anyone in the art of combat, the skills that had once made him one of, if not the most, feared warriors in all of Japan. Not since his last student had betrayed him and he vowed never to teach another. His own skills had lain dormant for so long, practiced only in the solitude of his own company.
But as he looked at Bella, standing before him with such earnestness in her eyes, he felt a stirring of something he hadn't felt in centuries—a sense of purpose, perhaps even the faint flicker of hope. There was a spark in her, a genuine thirst for knowledge, and a determination that reminded him of the warriors he had once trained, those who had come to him in ages past with the same eagerness and respect for the craft.
He nodded approvingly, the weight of his years behind the gesture. "I would be glad to teach you what I know," he said, his voice steady, but with a warmth that hadn't been there before. "It has been a long time since I've passed on my skills, but I see in you a worthy student."
His mind was already turning to the techniques he would show her, the ancient forms and movements that he had honed through the centuries. Yoshitaka knew that this wasn't just about teaching her to fight—this was about imparting a way of thinking, a discipline that extended far beyond the battlefield.
As he continued to speak, his tone was both serious and encouraging, "This will not be easy. The path of a warrior demands patience, dedication, and an understanding of not just the body, but the mind and spirit as well. But I believe you have the strength to walk this path."
Yoshitaka's smile widened just a touch, a small gesture of acknowledgment to the bond that was beginning to form between them, one of teacher and student, forged in the aftermath of battle and the shared understanding of what it meant to survive in their world.
Bella smiled warmly and bowed her head in gratitude. "Thank you. I'm honored, and I promise to do my best to learn everything you teach me." Her voice was steady, but beneath it lay a genuine eagerness and joy at the prospect of what she could learn from Yoshitaka.
As she straightened, Bella's gaze drifted to the scattered remains of the fallen vampires, their severed limbs still twitching. It was a surreal sight, one she hoped she never got used to seeing. She sighed, a mix of resignation and resolve settling over her. This would be the first time she had ever taken a vampire's life—at least consciously, when she was fully aware of her actions.
Bella took a moment to assess her emotions. She was pleased to find that she didn't register anything negative. More than anything, she felt a cold practicality, a sense of duty to see this through to the end. She had done what was necessary to survive, much like when a vampire took a life for sustenance, and she had done it to protect someone who hadn't deserved the fate the Volturi had intended for him.
She turned back to Yoshitaka, a grin spreading across her face as she put forth her best effort to lighten the grim situation. "Now that it looks like your arms are good to go, how about we get rid of these guys?" She gestured to the still-wriggling limbs scattered around them, her tone light but with an underlying edge of finality.
"And then," she continued, a genuine smile forming on her face, "you can fill me in on exactly what I've gotten myself into." There was a hint of humor in her words, but she wasn't deluding herself—she knew that the path she was choosing wasn't going to be easy. Still, she was ready to face it head-on with her eyes wide open.
Well, it sounds like we'll soon be getting Bella Swan: Kung Fu Master!
As always, comments are appreciated. I really enjoy hearing what you guys have to say.