This time however it was a fortunate occurrence since it saved the van from getting sliced in half. Their attacker was all too familiar to Vash, an ethereal figure not adhering to human proportions, donning red and black arcane armor, and wielding a warped and jagged staff; there was no mistake the weapon was the Key of Abaddon and their attacker was Duma the Angel of Silence, Knives was here and he had just thrown down the gauntlet.
“Everyone,” Vash spoke in a tone that told just how serious matters were, “Get out of the van and stay on your guard; we are in very real danger here.” As all six of his teammates filed out of the van mediums ready, (or in the case of Jiyu and Felicia on and active) the dark angel flew to a position behind his master just twenty yards up the trail with a motley crew consisting of the Gung-ho Guns Legato, Midvalley, Monev, Zazi and Raidei moving alongside his flanks.
Vash noticing the familiar sight of the man that cost him his left arm, already began to lay out his strategy, “Everyone listen carefully whatever happens I need to be the one to take on the man with that Angel. Keitaro, you need to be the one to fight the blue-haired man, with Mutsumi you’re the only one that stands a chance against him.”
“Vash,” Felicia said with a voice of concern, “That swordsman ahead seems to be focusing his intent on Jiyu and myself, whatever happens stay out of our way.”
“Since we’re choosing opponents,” Midoriko said, “I’ll take that ogre in the purple bodysuit, and Izayoi will take on the kid in the trench coat.”
“Fine Ms. Bossy,” Naota grumbled, “Leave me with the sax player, and keep in mind that just because my medium is an electric bass that doesn’t mean I’m fighting with the spirit of Rock & Roll here. Lousy redheaded she-devils think they know everything. ” Naota mumbled, as everyone scattered and oddly enough their intended targets followed suit.
*****
“Hello again brother, I presume you’re here to lecture me to stop my foolishness and play nice, like you did the last time.”
“No Knives, I know that by now that trying to make you see reason is pointless. In all honesty I had hoped to postpone this until the next round of the Shaman tournament, but I can see that that isn’t going to happen.”
“True enough Vash; however you may consider this a mere precursor to the sorrows that lay ahead. In fact I’ll make a deal with you should your group actually impress me I’ll allow them to live in order to compete in the next round; however should they fail not only will they pay but so will the town that the other half of my Gung-ho Guns are currently in… consider it an added incentive.”
“You monster, how could you just play games with peoples lives.”
“Now now brother, I’m being generous, if either Hao or myself become Shaman King most of them will die anyway. Although I would prefer to keep those with potential to become or bring future shaman into the new world alive if possible,” With a malicious grin stretching further across his face, the psychotic leader of the Gun-ho Guns continued, “Well sometimes a gardener might need to sacrifice a few plants to get rid of the weeds.”
“Now do everyone a favor and try to keep me entertained, after all it can be so boring just watching a fight, and your friends wouldn’t like it if I was bored.” Turning to his spirit, Knives commanded it to attack, “Duma, strike with the Key of Abaddon.”
Ducking and rolling to the right, Vash fired his sidearm summoning his own spirit, “Balandine, counter with the Rod of Morpheus.” As his celestial archangel appeared and blocked Duma’s bladed staff with its own crescent-headed (with what appeared to be a dream-catcher inside the crescent) staff.
*****
As Keitaro stood silently observing the approaching mysterious blue-haired man Vash’s words echoing in his mind, With Mutsumi you’re the only one that stands a chance against him. To be honest he was less than thrilled about the possible implications there, still he had better get ready, “Mutsumi,” Keitaro called out to his childhood friend turned Bodhisattva.
“Yes Kei-san,” replied the beautiful woman who appeared before him in the vestments of a Tao Priestess.
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to fight again before the tournament.”
Shrugging with a kind smile on here face Mutsumi transformed into a spirit ball, and allowed Keitaro to oversoul her into the scarf she gave him for Christmas one year (actually it was one half of a set, Naru got the other one) patterned like the rinds of the watermelons that she was so well known for hording in abundance; turning the garment into a shimmering white vestment embroidered with sutras.
Meanwhile standing stock still, his opponent Legato Bluesummers was a bit of an enigma, when Knives found him he was a budding psychic; although the young man was not a shaman per say he was not exactly human, his powers and deep-seated loathing for humanity (the result of almost two decades spent hearing the dark thoughts of the people around him) made him an ideal recruit.
However Legato was still not a shaman and thus ineligible for the great tournament, this minor detail was taken care of after Knives last encounter with Vash; the incident that caused Vash to lose his arm was not entirely a fluke, Knives needed the limb for an experiment to create an artificial shaman. By replacing Legato’s left-arm with Vash’s let the blue-haired psychic use telemetry to forge a connection with the astral plain, making Legato not unlike a true shaman.
At present the leader of Knives’s followers, had just oversouled his spirits into the spikes on his left shoulder paladon modifying and amplifying his inherent powers, and while Mutsumi’s presence directly protected Keitaro from Bluesummers’s control and telepathy, the psychic still had other tricks up his astral sleeves.
*****
With confidence in their experience Jiyu and Felicia strode within twenty paces of Raidei, who in truth couldn’t be more thrilled at the prospect, “Greetings young heirs of the great Yagyu Jubei, I have been looking forward to this day since I learned of your existence and participation in the Shaman Fight.”
“Oh great Felecia, just what we need another wannabe samurai with delusions of invincibility.” Jubei sighed.
“I don’t know Jiyu,” her adopted sibling intoned with worry, “Something tells me that this guy is no pretender.”
“I challenge you two to shiai, a duel to the death,” proclaimed the Gung-ho Gun presenting a formal letter, “Prepare to join your late master in the afterlife!” as he launched forward screaming.
Without saying a word Jiyu and Felicia seemed to blur together into a single individual, a young woman, (dressed exactly like Yagyu Jubei did during the height of his lifetime) the fiery heart of passion and the frozen blade of determination had once again merged as they had during the final battle against the Siberian Yagyus’ hatred, the ‘true’ Yagyu Jubei II stood blocking Raidei’s strike.
Leaping back into a guarded stance the Knives’s samurai began vocalizing his observations, “So this is the truth of Jubei’s heirs and the lovely eyepatches; the reincarnation of his soul and the scion of his flesh join spiritually, and thus Yagyu Jubei is reborn to walk the earth. Since you have know shown me the truth behind your strength I shall show you mine,” once again the bandaged swordsman appeared behind Raidei, “Meet my spirit the hidden battousai of the Imperialists, Makoto Shishio, I couldn’t thank Knives-sama enough for ordering Duma to retrieve him from Jigoku.”
“Now Shishio, into the katana,” the samurai ordered transforming the blade into a saw-toothed monstrosity burning black with hellfire.
Seeing this threat Jubei’s own weapon began to glow with an amethyst light as the Jiyu’s rose warmth combined with Felicia’s glacial cerulean to form a blade suffused with a nebulous antipode, neither burning nor freezing but both at the same simultaneously. Both opponents ready for anything they barreled forward on a collision course their blades ready to strike or parry the next blow.
*****
‘Note to self, throttle hat boy later for the red-head crack.’
Truth be told, Midoriko was rather looking forward to this fight, granted that Monev the Gale was almost twice her height, weighted about three times as much worth in solid muscle, and strangely reminded her of her math teacher and gym coach from her last year of middle school. ‘I wonder what ever happened to Kyouken-sensei?’
The only thing that worried her were the massive chain guns mounted on his arms, given that the shaman council forbid weapons lacking spiritual connections she knew those weren’t ordinary scream cannons, and she couldn’t wrap her mind around the possibilities of just what he could oversoul into those monsters... she didn’t wait long to find out.
The behemoth in the purple body suit shouted, “Fallen of ‘No Mans Land,’ into the Screamers.” His arsenal now glowing he leveled one arm in her direction, “Welcome to Megiddo little girl. Welcome to Hell!” and opened fire with a volley of flaming skulls.
Dodging the best she could as the tormented troops hit the ground and transformed into a phantasmal infantry, she decided she had better up her ante, “Rikuo-otsuge,” she spoke to the dragon in her right gauntlet, scale shield transforming the bracer into a shield with a dragon’s head near to the fist. Now for her left, “Tanu-kariudo,” she spoke to the tiger in her left bracer roaring blade turning her other gauntlet into a tiger inspired wrist blade with a blade oddly resembling a tongue. “Okay boys lets do this.” Midoriko chanted as she leapt into the fray, and transformed the battle into a macabre ballet of blocking, slashing, and stabbing amongst a sea of spectral dead.
*****
Not far away from Midoriko’s battlefield, her young shiyo student Izayoi was about to face a trail of her own. Already she had transformed showing the white hair, dog-ears, and golden eyes of her father, and stood with the Tessaiga drawn. Izayoi Higurashi was fully prepared for all that her opponent could dish out...
Except her opponent was Zazi the Beast, “Legion, into the Menagerie.” Izayoi bristled as she felt the extreme demonic aura pouring into the small trench coat the boy wore.
Despite her stance and determination, she was still caught off guard when her opponent shouted, “Charge elephant,” and opened one side of his coat sending a phantom pacaderm stampeding towards her.
“Uh-oh.”
*****
Naota was the last to meet his opponent’s gaze and to be honest he didn’t feel that threatened, it looked like he was about to go one on one with a street corner saxophone player from Shibuya for crying out loud, what did he have to feel threatened about Canti would cream this guy. Grinning with confidence he barely heard his opponent announce his oversoul, “Horn of Jerico” and thus only narrowly dodged the blast of energy blasted a trench between the man, where Naota was just standing, and about thirty feet beyond that.
‘It’s time to get serious,’ Naota thought as he morphed his bass into a familiar blood-red robot that then shifted into an abstract version of a howitzer. Hopping onto the top Naota shouted at the top of his lungs, “Canti, let’s show this hack musician some real firepower.”
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(Posted Thu, 07 Jul 2005 17:24)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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