Chapter CCCXXII: Broken Steel’s Determination ~Jaded

Jaded grit his teeth as he dashed hurriedly along the rocky plateau/plains of the moor he was currently on. He could now hear the metal footsteps gaining on him quickly. He readied his hand on his sword's hilt.

Within seconds, on his left appeared the sprinting figure of who appeared to be Multehx in Twilighter form. Except Jaded knew where the distinguishing mark that set the two apart lay, and it happened to be on the side of this demon that he could clearly see out of the corner of his eye.

As the two continued their mad dash, Tehxnot'lucan sneered cruelly. "Well, how fancy running into you out here, mercenary."

Jaded glanced over then returned his eyes to the path ahead of him, not breaking stride. He chuckled and responded, "Cut the crap; we both know what we're after here."

T'lucan smirked. "I'm amazed you could tell. You humans have not a magik sense in your body without training."

"Heh, well, shows what you know. Magik or no, I have a sense enough."

Disgustedly, the demon snorted. "Call it what you wish, but it's mere luck I still say."

"Have it as you wish, but don't complain now that I have to kick your arse kindly."

It all happened faster than could be described, so I'll attempt to here as best I can. There was a glint of light that reflected from the rising moon in the sky upon the polished edge of the broadsword as Jaded drew it back in his arm, over his opposite shoulder. Then, in one smooth movement, he swung it at T'lucan, cleaving at his left arm just below the shoulder. Growling in defiance, the Twilighter honed his unworldly skills to leap aside as deftly as he possibly could. The jagged end of the sword simply cleft a long gash in the shoulder of his cloak.

As his boots made contact with the peat-covered ground once more, T'lucan drew his dark weapon, the Rhyjulian II back in the classic Zornhut fashion, blade parallel to back, hands on hilt behind head, and leapt for his opponent. The mercenary was amazingly fast to the parry, raising his blade to block. The dark sword struck the steel, the clash almost deafening in severity. There was a determined droning as the blue "layer" exterior of the blade tried to eat into its opponent, but could not overcome the simple steel.

Seeing this, T'lucan snarled angrily, backing off with a short leap to the reverse. He stood at full height again, narrowing his eyes. Gripping the hilt tightly, he savagely sliced his sword through the air from upper right to lower left. This sent a blade of radiant purple/black light cutting through the air for its target. He repeated with an opposite diagonal cut, then threw his all into a direct cleave from top to bottom, each of these two throwing off a similarly colored blade as well.

As the first arc blazed towards him, Jaded shifted his weight to his right leg, bending it outward and leaning towards it as he held his left out straight, boot touching the ground. The arc stirred his cape and pants at it shot past harmlessly. For the next arc, he simply reversed his current stance, and that one sailed by just as harmlessly. The final one was where his skill seriously came into play.

Raising the hand holding his sword directly above him, serrated edge of it pointing to the sky, he spun so that the blade-arc passed over his back, only slightly shredding the outermost layer of fabric off of his cape. Then, blade still in the air above him, he continued his spin, drawing closer to his foe as he did so. He began to bring down his weapon as he nearly was facing the demon, and cleanly sliced his sword cleanly across T'lucan's mid-torso, seperating the front of his cloak, top from bottom, and the same with his shirt. A thin green gash appeared on the skin of his chest and he held a hand over the wound, gritting his teeth.

"Just h....HOW?!?!" he snarled, the wound dripping acidic blood upon the ground now.

Jaded rested the top of the blade upon the ground, his hands on the end of the hilt, one over the other. "Simple, foul abomination. I have trained many years, memorizing the ways of the Fechtbuchs of First Earth, written by such people as Liechtenauer, Kal, and Pauerfeindts, as well as many of our Parallel Earth equivalents."

Tehxnot'lucan spat. "So you're a Tsarodintal...big deal! I'm the ultimate embodiment of darkness yet!! Screw Havering! I'll outdo him in every way, starting by killing YOU and claiming it as my own before your pitiful companions even get halfway to it!"

Jaded smirked, beckoning with one hand. "You're welcome to it, if you can defeat me as you boast. Just be warned, you're not of my level; no, not more than half there yet. Don't rush so fool-heartedly to your end."

The demon growled, brandishing his sword. "Arrogant bastard, BLEED AND SUFFER!!!" he roared as he lunged again.

The mercenary once again drew a defending blade, but this time his foe had faked him out. He stopped about five feet away from his awaiting adversary, deftly "sheathing" the Rhyjulian II on his back and throwing out both open hands on either side of Jaded's raised sword.

Wave upon wave of pure darkness cascaded over, deluged, and near devoured the human as he crashed to his back, leaving an indentation in the rocky earth. He felt his sword fly out of his grasp and heard it clatter across the ground. The instant the waves of black energy dissipated the tip of his foe's sword was placed at his neck.

T'lucan snickered slightly, looking as cold and dark as he could. "So...where's your 'greatness' now, Sir?" he mocked.

Jaded simply smirked behind his scarf. "There's one thing you should keep in mind, if you think you've won."

T'lucan narrowed his eyes, lowering the blade slightly more, it's dark power burning the mercenary's neck in a spot slightly. "And what's that, smart arse?"

"Simple, demon. ‘Was sehrt, das lehrt’."

His gloved hands shot out from either side of him, taking an almost iron-clad grasp of the Rhyjulian II. T'lucan was caught off-guard by this for a moment, but as soon as his prey began exerting enough force to push the blade back from his neck, he snapped back to his right mind and began to amount a retaliatory force.

The two kept up this 'tug-of-war' for what felt like hours, each straining and gaining, then abruptly losing the upper hand. Jaded began to groan in pain as the dark energies that filled the outer edges of the blade began to cut through his extremely thick leather gloves; not even being deterred by the layer of mail links woven into their center layers.

T'lucan's eyes gleamed with something utterly evil and demented; something primitive; the base most desire of anything of such unholy creation as he-

Bloodlust.

It had been so long since he had spilled the life's blood of another, and he was aching, no, burning with the desire to again. The need. And here was his solution.

The blade slowly began to force its way downward again.

But this time, to T'lucan's shock, not of his efforts. Jaded was actually overtaking his own efforts and slowly pulling the instrument of death towards him. And, as the accursed blade was cutting closer and closer to splaying the flesh of his tightly locked around the blade palms, it slipped from its master's grip and was fully his.

Rolling over backwards, Jaded bounded to his feet with the black sword still in his grasp by the blade. He paused there for a moment, and so did T'lucan, a look of worry in his eyes now. Thoughts careened blindly through the man's mind, trying to formulate into even a single idea. But nothing was coming to the surface.

Sensing this hesitation, T'lucan half-grinned, worry still evident on his face, and outstretched his hand to Jaded's broken broadsword, which lay on the ground a few feet away. A black aura instantly surrounded it, and it began to be pulled along the ground, heading in the direction of the demon's outstretched hand. Jaded couldn't hesitate for a plan now. His base reaction was primitive, yes, highly risky, very much so, and darn out of the bounds of sanity. But he did it anyway.

Drawing the blade back in the Zornhut stance again, but this time holding it by the blade, his eyes reflected the wild anger and desperation that was coursing through him. He snorted angrily. The broadsword leapt from the earth and drew nearer the extended hand that was calling it.

"MORDSCHLAG!!!" The mercenary bellowed at to the deepest depths his lungs could muster.

The Rhyjulian II swung forth. The green hand closed around the hilt of the broadsword and reflexively began to lift it. Moments too late. The pommel of the dark weapon CRASHED down upon the demon's head, a faint sound between a thud and a crack could be heard. Tehxnot'lucan's eyes rolled back and he fell forward, still and motionless in his unconsciousness.

Jaded dropped the dark weapon by the fallen demon, prying his own from the fallen body's grasp and sheathing it in the sheath he hid under his cloak. Nearly instantly the demon's body burst into black flames along with the Rhyjulian II. As the fires died, the two were gone, leaving no trace at all of their having been there.

Jaded sighed, collapsing to his knees. He examined his gloves. Each had a severely deep cut along the center, horizontally, but some leather had still separated his flesh from the metal of the sword. Still, by the pain in them, he didn't doubt the weapon did manage to cut into his hands nicely. So he removed them, checked the damage, used some crude gauze he had acquired in his travels to bandage them both, tied them off behind either hand, and returned them to their respective places. He'd have to acquire a new set along the way, though no place made them quite like where he had acquired them.

Still, he'd do so to get some replacements until he could return. For now, it was mind back on the mission. As Tehx had said to him so many times before in each of his tireless efforts, “No time for rest or recreation now. Little time to think and reflect even. Just time to work. And fight back. To keep 'em from messin' over this existance, and everyone and thing in it. Mind on the mission.”

And the mercenary flexed his fingers, turned, and sprinted again in the direction he knew was the right one.

* * *

As a simple note in history,

One of the finest potentials to ever study swordsmanship under me was a bright young man, so full of passion, so full of vigor and life. I taught to him the finest of what First Earth's great German swordsmen had to teach, and what our own did. But I doubt he'll ever reach true excellence in this now bloody craft. In such times when people do not any longer know what is evil and what is good, a man must first numb his heart and isolate most of his humanity in order to be the efficient instrument to achieve what he wishes by means of force.

- Anonymous, Headmaster of Drechentaht, school for grace,

excellence, and proficiency in swordsmanship of Parallel Earth