Here we go, chapter 5.
Just so you people know, this is extremely raw, I wrote this instead of taking notes in my genetic course so yeah
I hope you will enjoy this, let the RAGE-fest begin.
:lol:
Miracle 5
I see
She is lying
It doesnt work that way.
It isnt supposed to work like that at all.
For a servant summoned by a servant it should be impossible to leave the place he is bound to.
It is the magical energy of this temple that sustains him after all.
It is the power of this holy ground, filled by the energy of the towns ley-lines that allows him to stay in this war.
Yet
He was able to leave his place.
Left it to hunt and kill the servant Lancer. A servant class well known for their speed and prowess. And then
He regenerated wounds that should have been fatal even for a servant.
No, regenerated was the wrong word. He reformed himself. His arm was a mechanical construct, not something that can just regenerate like that.
The only thing she can say for sure is that the aura of death around him has grown even stronger.
She hates to admit it but she doesnt get him at all. She doesnt understand how he can be as strong as he is. He is not even a real hero, or at least that is what she thinks.
Because there is no hero that she knows of that would fit his description.
Not that it matters.
He serves her well, which is the truly important thing as far as she is concerned.
With his strength at her disposal she can rest assured that not even the mightiest of heroes will be able to stop her that easily.
That cursed blade he wields with such monstrous strength will stop all opposition in their tracks.
But the time has come to use Assassin the way he was supposed to be used.
Well done Assassin, hear my next order then, at the edge of this town there is a large forest
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The forest is larger than expected.
He has been walking for a as long as an hour now, yet the castle is still not in sight.
15 Minutes
Thats his best estimate.
15 minutes, thats all the time Berserkers master has left.
Heh, hunting nobles again, god this feels nostalgic.
This is not an attack upon Berserker.
Casters orders were clear on that matter.
This was an assassination.
Infiltrate.
Kill.
Escape.
No, sweat, he could do that but.
He knew his own luck well enough.
The chance that this would go over smoothly was about as high as the chance for a sudden attack of blue flying pigs.
Apostle pigs.
Sounds like something the church would call a miracle, Flying pigs.
He snickers ruefully.
He knows more than enough about miracles to understand one thing.
Nothing good can come out of gods help.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Go kill him Berserk!
Her young voice commands his death in a far too chilling tone for a child of her age.
A sentence of death.
Not like it is the first time some kid tries to kill me.
He wont go down that easily.
Not today, but Berserker disagrees, loudly.
It is less of a battlecry and more of a roar.
No man should sound like that. That sound reminds Guts of himself far too much.
The hero before him feels more like beast than a man and his attack is delivered with the speed of a true predator.
The giant attacks, swinging his sword around wildly he charges.
Too fast. Way too fast.
Someone that large should not be able to move this fast. Well, neither should Assassin.
The sword hits the floor.
Stone meets stone with a sound that hurts his ears even as the floor shatters.
There is no hesitation or even a moments pause, Berserkers sword raises again.
Like a coiled snake the blade forged out of iron jumps up to meet the enemy blade.
A pained grunt.
Testing Berserkers strength was not one of his brightest ideas but it confirmed Assassins guess.
Way too strong to get into a slugging match with him.
Another roar.
Under the watchful gaze of his master Heracles swings his crude stone sword as if it weighted nothing.
Slowly but surely the hallway crumbles under the assault of the two giant swords.
Debris fill the floor.
Yet
The do not stop.
The difference is easy to see even for someone with no battle experience like Ilya.
One seeks a hole in his enemies defense.
The other seeks only to crush his enemy.
This battle is nothing like the one against Lancer.
Savage
Brutal
Mindless
Perfect words to describe this battle as well as Berserker himself.
His plan of action has been decided, he will end the fight in one blow.
Assassin charges.
The Dragonslayer thrusts forwards, a simple attack. Easy to counter.
Berserkers blade nearly tears the swords out oh his hands when it hits, forcing his body to rotate.
A cruel smile blooms on Assassins face.
He twists, even as his muscles scream at the abuse they are put through, liquid fire runs through his veins, burns his arms and makes him grit his teet and his blade moves
Almost as if it were eager for the divine blood it is presented with the sword cuts through the air.
Momentum gives strength.
The sword of stone can not stop this strike.
The blow nearly cuts the giant in half.
Blood spurts out, yet, Berserker does not falter. His hands raise.
A fist punches into the wound eliciting a low groan but Guts is not done yet.
Again the sickening smile on Assassins face spells out only doom for his opponent.
The hand a cannon goes off as planned with a horrifying sound, blasting straight through Berserkers upper back.
Such an attack is enough to kill even this monster.
Looks likes this is over.
A moment of triumph.
Two hands grasp Assassins head.
The unholy glow in berserkers eyes grows even stronger as his grip on assassins head tightens.
Killing Berserkers once or twice wont do you any good. Now be a good boy and die.
Her childish voice adds another layer of absurdity to this scene.
Yet
Before his astonished eyes Berserker is healing, the wound that should have killed him is already fading away.
Guts head feels like it is going to explode any moment now.
If..igaspIf once aint enough then I will just kill him a hundred times over, that ought to do it.
His voice is strained. The pain is starting to become unbearable.
For a second his hand disappears in the folds of his clothes.
A glitter of steel.
The little bombs explode into Berserkers face.
A terrible roar.
One hand lets go but it is no respite.
The fist hits him like the fury of an angry god and makes him puke.
A sharp pain makes itself noticable when he breathes in.
Damn, there goes a rib.or two.
Before another blow can land his foot kicks upwards, his steel clad feet crushing enhanced flesh and bone.
This time Berserkers simply throws him away.
Through the entire hallway, from the base of the stairs to the entrance.
A moment of peace, as he glides through the air.
The landing is a bit more painful.
He rolls a few metres, kicking up dust and debris, leaving behind a trail of blood before he comes to a stop.
Groaning he raises himself on all fours.
His sword is too far for him to get it, his vision is fading and Berserkers next attack will cleave him in two.
He tries to stand up but his strength is not enough and he falls down and winces again.
That damn rib is starting to really piss him off.
With a terrible roar Berserker attacks.
That sword made of stone descends.
He wont be able to stop it.
He cant even see it.
All he sees is blackness.
Blackness.
And the demons that have hunted him since his birth.
The change happens in an instant.
The black swordsman disappears and in his place is a thing born out of hate.
The sword has stopped.
No.
It was forced to a stop.
A single armoured hand grasps the edge of the blade tightly.
Even on all fours, close to death, the blade of certain death was stopped.
Berserkers arm strains itself.
The blade moves.
Slowly.
Assassins head snaps upwards, the demonic faceplate of his helmet hides his face from scrutiny.
Another roar.
Hatred and Rage.
Fury and Madness.
The black fist tightens.
With a sharp cracking sound the stone swords tip crumbles beneath Assassins fingers.
There is no hesitation from either of them.
Assassins charges right away, moving so fast his body becomes a blur for a moment.
Berserkers broken sword falls to the ground as the giant swings his bare fist at the incoming human projectile.
A seconds difference is all that it takes.
Assassin has already closed in.
The armoured knuckles break Berserkers nose even as the giants fist breaks another couple of ribs in retaliation.
Their weapons are forgotten.
To kill their enemy, that is the only thing that matters now, nothing else is left in their minds.
Berserkers leg kicks out.
Too slow.
Assassin jumps over it and attacks.
With a terrible scream Berserker loses his left eye.
Heracle`s fury raises even more. A quick grab catches his enemy before he can get out of range.
His hands hold Assassin in place.
Divine Flesh meets Cursed Steel.
The cursed steel bends inwards from the strength of Berserker's headbutt.
Their faces are only inches away from each other.
Their screams or rage fill the entire castle.
A wonderful duet of madness.
Dodging downwards Assassins hand finds a familiar weight.
The swords touch is enough.
Even through the haze of madness from his Berserker Armor his plan is realized.
Assassin moves away. From one end of the hallway to the other in a moments notice.
The second hand finds what it sought.
The broken stone sword is lifted.
For a moment a terrible silence fills the hall.
Then
Berserker charges again.
Without a weapon Heracles rushes onwards.
Fear is unknown to him.
In the end there is only one thing left for him to do.
He is Berserker after all.
The two giant swords await their victim silently.
Ilya starts running the second Berserker charges.
The moment Assassin has both swords in his hands; a feeling of terror fills her, freezing her entire body for a moment.
Only one thing remains in her mind as she runs onwards.
A HUNDRED TIMES!
A howl.
Beast against Beast.
A last roar of primal fury.
Then the two swords are within reach.
Assassin disappears from sight.
Blood flies everywhere.
And Berserker dies.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Again and again he is torn apart by the black dervish that dances around him.
Torn apart by the cursed blade of his enemy and his own crude blade made of stone.
There is no end to the slaughter.
Twelve Lifes are gone.
Yet Assassin does not stop.
The swords do not stop.
And Ilya is still running.
Her Berserker is dying.
The moment she reaches him the black blade comes for the last strikes.
Her arms close around her servants leg.
The blade descends.
Blood soaks her entire body.
A strand of hair falls to the ground.
Berserkers remains fall to the floor.
Only the lower body is left standing as the little girl is still clinging to it.
An inch lower and she would have been hit and died instantly.
Assassin falls to the floor.
The rage is gone.
He looks at the girl.
She is still in shock.
Killing her now is easy.
Suddenly her eyes lock with his.
Berserker is gone.
Her voice is soft. Painfully so.
Yeah.
Berserker was really strong. He was going to protect me from everyone.
He cant tell if she is crying under all that blood or not.
Berserker is really strong. He is the strongest servant of all, right?
He was strong.
She smiles, under all that blood, still clinging to the fading remains of her servant the little girl smiles.
A hollow smile.
Yup, thats my Berserker, hes the strongest.
The moment the words leave her lips she is already falling.
Right into Assassins lap.
He looks down.
Her face is smeared with blood.
Like the son of that noble guy he killed back then with Griffith.
Like those fake elf children.
Like those kids, that had been barely old enough to leave their home, he had fought in the war.
He looks at her face again.
Im sick of killing children.
He brushes a bit of her hair away.
A gentle touch.
Not something he would expect from himself.
His lips twitch.
He does it again. Brushing her hair away.
This time he cant stop himself.
He starts laughing.
Like a madmen he starts to laugh.
Damn it all if it isnt the truth.
He is sick of killing children.
Just so you people know, this is extremely raw, I wrote this instead of taking notes in my genetic course so yeah
I hope you will enjoy this, let the RAGE-fest begin.
:lol:
Miracle 5
I see
She is lying
It doesnt work that way.
It isnt supposed to work like that at all.
For a servant summoned by a servant it should be impossible to leave the place he is bound to.
It is the magical energy of this temple that sustains him after all.
It is the power of this holy ground, filled by the energy of the towns ley-lines that allows him to stay in this war.
Yet
He was able to leave his place.
Left it to hunt and kill the servant Lancer. A servant class well known for their speed and prowess. And then
He regenerated wounds that should have been fatal even for a servant.
No, regenerated was the wrong word. He reformed himself. His arm was a mechanical construct, not something that can just regenerate like that.
The only thing she can say for sure is that the aura of death around him has grown even stronger.
She hates to admit it but she doesnt get him at all. She doesnt understand how he can be as strong as he is. He is not even a real hero, or at least that is what she thinks.
Because there is no hero that she knows of that would fit his description.
Not that it matters.
He serves her well, which is the truly important thing as far as she is concerned.
With his strength at her disposal she can rest assured that not even the mightiest of heroes will be able to stop her that easily.
That cursed blade he wields with such monstrous strength will stop all opposition in their tracks.
But the time has come to use Assassin the way he was supposed to be used.
Well done Assassin, hear my next order then, at the edge of this town there is a large forest
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The forest is larger than expected.
He has been walking for a as long as an hour now, yet the castle is still not in sight.
15 Minutes
Thats his best estimate.
15 minutes, thats all the time Berserkers master has left.
Heh, hunting nobles again, god this feels nostalgic.
This is not an attack upon Berserker.
Casters orders were clear on that matter.
This was an assassination.
Infiltrate.
Kill.
Escape.
No, sweat, he could do that but.
He knew his own luck well enough.
The chance that this would go over smoothly was about as high as the chance for a sudden attack of blue flying pigs.
Apostle pigs.
Sounds like something the church would call a miracle, Flying pigs.
He snickers ruefully.
He knows more than enough about miracles to understand one thing.
Nothing good can come out of gods help.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Go kill him Berserk!
Her young voice commands his death in a far too chilling tone for a child of her age.
A sentence of death.
Not like it is the first time some kid tries to kill me.
He wont go down that easily.
Not today, but Berserker disagrees, loudly.
It is less of a battlecry and more of a roar.
No man should sound like that. That sound reminds Guts of himself far too much.
The hero before him feels more like beast than a man and his attack is delivered with the speed of a true predator.
The giant attacks, swinging his sword around wildly he charges.
Too fast. Way too fast.
Someone that large should not be able to move this fast. Well, neither should Assassin.
The sword hits the floor.
Stone meets stone with a sound that hurts his ears even as the floor shatters.
There is no hesitation or even a moments pause, Berserkers sword raises again.
Like a coiled snake the blade forged out of iron jumps up to meet the enemy blade.
A pained grunt.
Testing Berserkers strength was not one of his brightest ideas but it confirmed Assassins guess.
Way too strong to get into a slugging match with him.
Another roar.
Under the watchful gaze of his master Heracles swings his crude stone sword as if it weighted nothing.
Slowly but surely the hallway crumbles under the assault of the two giant swords.
Debris fill the floor.
Yet
The do not stop.
The difference is easy to see even for someone with no battle experience like Ilya.
One seeks a hole in his enemies defense.
The other seeks only to crush his enemy.
This battle is nothing like the one against Lancer.
Savage
Brutal
Mindless
Perfect words to describe this battle as well as Berserker himself.
His plan of action has been decided, he will end the fight in one blow.
Assassin charges.
The Dragonslayer thrusts forwards, a simple attack. Easy to counter.
Berserkers blade nearly tears the swords out oh his hands when it hits, forcing his body to rotate.
A cruel smile blooms on Assassins face.
He twists, even as his muscles scream at the abuse they are put through, liquid fire runs through his veins, burns his arms and makes him grit his teet and his blade moves
Almost as if it were eager for the divine blood it is presented with the sword cuts through the air.
Momentum gives strength.
The sword of stone can not stop this strike.
The blow nearly cuts the giant in half.
Blood spurts out, yet, Berserker does not falter. His hands raise.
A fist punches into the wound eliciting a low groan but Guts is not done yet.
Again the sickening smile on Assassins face spells out only doom for his opponent.
The hand a cannon goes off as planned with a horrifying sound, blasting straight through Berserkers upper back.
Such an attack is enough to kill even this monster.
Looks likes this is over.
A moment of triumph.
Two hands grasp Assassins head.
The unholy glow in berserkers eyes grows even stronger as his grip on assassins head tightens.
Killing Berserkers once or twice wont do you any good. Now be a good boy and die.
Her childish voice adds another layer of absurdity to this scene.
Yet
Before his astonished eyes Berserker is healing, the wound that should have killed him is already fading away.
Guts head feels like it is going to explode any moment now.
If..igaspIf once aint enough then I will just kill him a hundred times over, that ought to do it.
His voice is strained. The pain is starting to become unbearable.
For a second his hand disappears in the folds of his clothes.
A glitter of steel.
The little bombs explode into Berserkers face.
A terrible roar.
One hand lets go but it is no respite.
The fist hits him like the fury of an angry god and makes him puke.
A sharp pain makes itself noticable when he breathes in.
Damn, there goes a rib.or two.
Before another blow can land his foot kicks upwards, his steel clad feet crushing enhanced flesh and bone.
This time Berserkers simply throws him away.
Through the entire hallway, from the base of the stairs to the entrance.
A moment of peace, as he glides through the air.
The landing is a bit more painful.
He rolls a few metres, kicking up dust and debris, leaving behind a trail of blood before he comes to a stop.
Groaning he raises himself on all fours.
His sword is too far for him to get it, his vision is fading and Berserkers next attack will cleave him in two.
He tries to stand up but his strength is not enough and he falls down and winces again.
That damn rib is starting to really piss him off.
With a terrible roar Berserker attacks.
That sword made of stone descends.
He wont be able to stop it.
He cant even see it.
All he sees is blackness.
Blackness.
And the demons that have hunted him since his birth.
The change happens in an instant.
The black swordsman disappears and in his place is a thing born out of hate.
The sword has stopped.
No.
It was forced to a stop.
A single armoured hand grasps the edge of the blade tightly.
Even on all fours, close to death, the blade of certain death was stopped.
Berserkers arm strains itself.
The blade moves.
Slowly.
Assassins head snaps upwards, the demonic faceplate of his helmet hides his face from scrutiny.
Another roar.
Hatred and Rage.
Fury and Madness.
The black fist tightens.
With a sharp cracking sound the stone swords tip crumbles beneath Assassins fingers.
There is no hesitation from either of them.
Assassins charges right away, moving so fast his body becomes a blur for a moment.
Berserkers broken sword falls to the ground as the giant swings his bare fist at the incoming human projectile.
A seconds difference is all that it takes.
Assassin has already closed in.
The armoured knuckles break Berserkers nose even as the giants fist breaks another couple of ribs in retaliation.
Their weapons are forgotten.
To kill their enemy, that is the only thing that matters now, nothing else is left in their minds.
Berserkers leg kicks out.
Too slow.
Assassin jumps over it and attacks.
With a terrible scream Berserker loses his left eye.
Heracle`s fury raises even more. A quick grab catches his enemy before he can get out of range.
His hands hold Assassin in place.
Divine Flesh meets Cursed Steel.
The cursed steel bends inwards from the strength of Berserker's headbutt.
Their faces are only inches away from each other.
Their screams or rage fill the entire castle.
A wonderful duet of madness.
Dodging downwards Assassins hand finds a familiar weight.
The swords touch is enough.
Even through the haze of madness from his Berserker Armor his plan is realized.
Assassin moves away. From one end of the hallway to the other in a moments notice.
The second hand finds what it sought.
The broken stone sword is lifted.
For a moment a terrible silence fills the hall.
Then
Berserker charges again.
Without a weapon Heracles rushes onwards.
Fear is unknown to him.
In the end there is only one thing left for him to do.
He is Berserker after all.
The two giant swords await their victim silently.
Ilya starts running the second Berserker charges.
The moment Assassin has both swords in his hands; a feeling of terror fills her, freezing her entire body for a moment.
Only one thing remains in her mind as she runs onwards.
A HUNDRED TIMES!
A howl.
Beast against Beast.
A last roar of primal fury.
Then the two swords are within reach.
Assassin disappears from sight.
Blood flies everywhere.
And Berserker dies.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Again and again he is torn apart by the black dervish that dances around him.
Torn apart by the cursed blade of his enemy and his own crude blade made of stone.
There is no end to the slaughter.
Twelve Lifes are gone.
Yet Assassin does not stop.
The swords do not stop.
And Ilya is still running.
Her Berserker is dying.
The moment she reaches him the black blade comes for the last strikes.
Her arms close around her servants leg.
The blade descends.
Blood soaks her entire body.
A strand of hair falls to the ground.
Berserkers remains fall to the floor.
Only the lower body is left standing as the little girl is still clinging to it.
An inch lower and she would have been hit and died instantly.
Assassin falls to the floor.
The rage is gone.
He looks at the girl.
She is still in shock.
Killing her now is easy.
Suddenly her eyes lock with his.
Berserker is gone.
Her voice is soft. Painfully so.
Yeah.
Berserker was really strong. He was going to protect me from everyone.
He cant tell if she is crying under all that blood or not.
Berserker is really strong. He is the strongest servant of all, right?
He was strong.
She smiles, under all that blood, still clinging to the fading remains of her servant the little girl smiles.
A hollow smile.
Yup, thats my Berserker, hes the strongest.
The moment the words leave her lips she is already falling.
Right into Assassins lap.
He looks down.
Her face is smeared with blood.
Like the son of that noble guy he killed back then with Griffith.
Like those fake elf children.
Like those kids, that had been barely old enough to leave their home, he had fought in the war.
He looks at her face again.
Im sick of killing children.
He brushes a bit of her hair away.
A gentle touch.
Not something he would expect from himself.
His lips twitch.
He does it again. Brushing her hair away.
This time he cant stop himself.
He starts laughing.
Like a madmen he starts to laugh.
Damn it all if it isnt the truth.
He is sick of killing children.