Chapter 9: The Kill Condition
Name: Yul Bishop
Age: 19
Personality: Disciplined, battle maniac, gets riled up easily
Birthday: 27 May
Strengths: Endurance, all out brawls
Weaknesses: Admitting he needs help, anything to do with thinking
Favourite things: A nice family dinner, huddling around a fireplace on a cold December morning, testing his limits
The Puppet Master, now that all of his plans had been foiled, snapped. He stamped his foot on the ground like a spoiled child, his veins popping, his eyes reddening in madness, his clothes ruffling. He pulled his hair. "Impossible… All my years of planning, rendered useless by these MISFITS?"
"That's what a twisted soul like you deserves when you manipulate people for fun." Lars stated, his gaze cold and unchanging. "Who's gonna be bowing before who exactly?"
The puppet master stared at him, his expression one of pure rage. Then he smiled dementedly. Without saying a word, he ran into the forest.
The Puppet Master, his footsteps heavy with desperation, darted through the darkening woods. Leaves crackled under his boots as he pushed forward, frantic breaths escaping him. Lars chased fast behind, the air crackling with tension. The distance between them was closing, but the Puppet Master had one final, wicked plan in mind.
"If I can't have my prize..." he muttered to himself, a crazed grin stretching across his face, "Then I'll take everything else!" He strapped a magic item from his bag over his right eye.
Ahead of him lay the village, a peaceful settlement, unaware of the chaos racing toward it. The Puppet Master raised his hands as he entered the clearing, his grimoire flickering to life beside him. Dark tendrils of magic shot out from his fingers, invisible strings attaching to the villagers, who were going about their evening.
Lars skidded to a halt as he watched in horror. The villagers, one by one, froze mid-step, their faces twisting into unnatural expressions. They were no longer in control of their bodies. The Puppet Master's sinister voice echoed through the town square, "Dance, my puppets! Dance for your master!"
Lars clenched his fists, his grimoire flying open beside him. "You coward!" he shouted. "Mind Magic: Tiefe Analyse!" His spell scanned the area, revealing the intricate web of control the Puppet Master had woven over the villagers. There were so many of them—too many for him to free at once.
So he would have to isolate the source.
Before Lars could act, the Puppet Master raised his hand high. "Kill Condition!" he snarled, eyes gleaming with madness. The villagers' eyes glazed over, and their necks began snapping, a violent, sickening sound.
A scream pierced the air. Lars' heart sank. One of the villagers collapsed, lifeless, as the spell took hold. Then another, and another. Lars saw the mayor among the collapsed villagers, his formerly impeccable half moon spectacles shattered. The Puppet Master laughed maniacally. "One by one, they will fall. And you? You'll be helpless to stop it."
Lars could not move, immobilised by fear, hesitating. What could he do? He didn't know how this spell worked, and he feared losing even more villagers. Tears began to well up in his eyes. At this rate, all these people were gonna die, and it would be all his fault.
His mind raced, considering the best course of action, while the Puppet Master's demented laughs rang in his ears. He had to stop him, but before he could make his move, a blur of motion appeared by his side—Yul and Sharya had arrived.
"Thought you could use a hand," Sharya said with a wink, her copy grimoire already open. "Let's shut this guy down, shall we?"
"But Yul…" Lars protested. "Your leg…"
"There's something you keep forgetting, newbie."
Yul stepped forward, his Steel Magic already crackling around his arms. His usual calm demeanour was replaced with a cold, steely rage. "No more deaths," he muttered, his voice filled with determination. His body was covered in shimmering steel armour, the ground beneath him groaning from the weight. "We're Coral Peacocks, and as good of an elite fighting force as anyone. We WILL win this!"
Without hesitation, Yul slammed his hand into the earth. "Steel Magic: Iron Curtain!" Massive steel walls erupted from the ground, separating the villagers, keeping them from each other and breaking the Puppet Master's control over some of them. The spell bought them precious time.
The Puppet Master screamed in fury, but Sharya wasn't done. She flipped through her own grimoire, mimicking Lars's Mind Magic. "Cloned Mind Magic: Subjugation!" she shouted, her voice fierce. Her magic spread through the air like a net, clashing with the Puppet Master's strings. She couldn't control him outright, but she could disrupt his hold over the villagers, loosening his grip.
Lars seized the moment. His own grimoire glowed brightly as he called out, "Mind Magic: Infinite Thought Shield!" A shimmering dome of mental energy surrounded the remaining villagers, protecting them from the Puppet Master's influence.
The Puppet Master, now cornered, glared at them, his chest heaving in rage. "No!" he shrieked. "You don't understand! I'm a god! You can't stop me!"
Yul stepped forward, his steel gauntlets gleaming in the fading light. "You're just a man who's about to lose." He rushed forward with terrifying speed. "Steel Magic: Rumbling Fist!"
Yul's hand gleamed in the sun's orange light. His hand grew bigger, reinforced by his magic, and he brought it across the puppet master's face in a righteous right hook. He sent the malevolent puppeteer's head sprawling into the ground.
The Puppet Master fell to his knees, panting, his magic unravelling as the villagers snapped out of their trance. His body shook as he looked up at the trio. Lars, Yul, and Sharya stood above him, their expressions unyielding.
"It's over," Lars said coldly, his grimoire closing. "You've lost."
The Puppet Master let out a hollow laugh, his eyes wide with disbelief. "All my plans... ruined... by you misfits..." He collapsed, defeated. "I'll never let you…take me in…"
"Puppet Magic: Self Kill Condition."
CRACK
The village was silent for a moment, then the survivors began to stir, grateful that the nightmare had finally ended. Some embraced each other, some mourned their dead. It was a surprisingly juxtaposed scene.
Lars looked down at the ground and yelled in frustration, a primal sound that shook the very village to it's core.
Lars looked at his companions, his heart heavy from the lives that were lost, tears streaming down his face. "We stopped him... but, MAN, this doesn't feel like a win. All those people died. If I was less hesitant... if I had moved faster...if I had just made a decision..."
Yul placed a hand on his shoulder. "We did what we could. We saved as many as possible. That's all we can ever do." His only good leg buckled under his weight.
Sharya nodded, her usual playful grin absent. "Yeah. We'll make sure this doesn't happen again."
As the sun set behind them, the trio stood together, stronger than ever, knowing that even in the darkest of times, they would always have each other's backs.
"Warp us back, Oda." Lars whispered, tears streaming down his face. The loss was heavy.
Oda had set up a spatial magic spell that allowed them to be warped back to home in case of danger. That spell activated, and Lars took one last look at the village before heading through Oda's portal.