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Fandom Tower of God - War on Zahard (Closed)

Characters
Here

Heartfelt

Friendly Neighborhood Consulting Detective
What do you desire?
Money and wealth?
Honor and pride?
Authority and power?
Revenge?
Or something which transcends them all?

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Not everyone was selected to climb The Tower. This was a selective honor, graced only upon those Haedon found the most promising, the most powerful and, in very extreme cases, the most entertaining. But while not everyone could become one of these Regulars, everyone heard the stories of the speech Headon delivered to every one of his Chosen before inviting them to the promised new life of climbing towards Godhood. "What do you desire?" These words, every resident of The Tower lives to hear. When you were chosen to climb, perhaps your breath stalled for the slightest moment, or quivered under the anticipation of hearing this famous line. You were to be sorely disappointed.

"A war is brewing."

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It wasn't even weeks before Headon approached you with your call to the Inner Tower. Every resident in The Tower received on their Emily Terminals a grim message.

"I, Jeong Bae-Ja, have ascended to the 135th floor of the Tower forbidden to you by the power of your King Zahard. His power has failed once and it will fail you again. All those who seek to uproot the Empire of Zahard, rise to the 134th Floor. Refuse the King's Gift. Rise to the Bae-Ja Empire, and become like Gods and Heroes."

Many thought nothing of it, but still yet many refused to speak of it. The idea of overthrowing Zahard was unthinkable. Nobody shared what seemed to them a ill-taste in humor, and so nobody really saw how wide-spread or how serious this declaration of war really was.
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"A war is brewing. Are you prepared to fight it? Whether you seek to fight for King Zahard or King Jeong Bae-Ja, or seek to fight in your own name, is no concern of mine. However, you will fight this war...

"What do you desire?
Is it something worth dying for? Killing for?
Is it something closer to your heart than anything else?
Whatever it is, hold it close and tight.
This new test of attrition may transcend that all."

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A blinding light washes over you. It is clearly the work of some mystical art -- or, perhaps, even some greater power. Almost as abruptly as it came, it is gone, and you're now enveloped in a thick, inky blackness that neither eyes nor hands nor any attack could penetrated . It is clearly something powerful. But you don't feel threatened. No... you feel welcomed, even! Just as you grew comfortable, you awoke in a daze. Evankhell's Floor, you were told. A vast canopy of wheat stretching well over the horizon, caged in by sheer cliff faces, thick autumnal forests and small, steady lakes. Wherever you awoke here, you expected to hear the famously gruff voice of Evankhell...

" ♥ Ta-taaa~ Hello, Chosen Regulars~ It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance! ♥" Whatever you expected, it was not that. You wondered if the gruffness of Evankhell was well overstated. " ♥ Unfortunately, this floor seems to have come under new management~! But don't worry, I'll take plenty good care of you~! Unlike that stuffy old Evankhell, we're doing things the fun way now! There are 400 Regulars on this floor. You will fight amongst yourselves until that number is reduced to 3, or until 30 minutes has passed! Please be sure to refer to your Pocket to see the remaining time and the remaining number of Regulars~! And the most important rule of all~! Haaaaaaaave... fuuunnnnnn~!!!! ♥"
 
Anastasia Cressida ZahardKill or be killed, huh? She expected this from the get-go. No. It was not like she expected it, she was just used to it. It was the same outside as it was inside. She reached into her jacket, and withdrew two of her knives while bringing up her Pocket. By the time she had already done so, the numbers were already plummeting. People were quick on the killing part, and so were they on the killed part. She made a quick survey of her surroundings, before she ducked into the wheat. This was bad. Her clothes didn’t blend in well, and she was dropped into an open space. A good sniper or anyone with a sharp eye could see her from a mile away. She scowled. Her initial scan of the area had her notice a rock formation towards the west, about 70 metres away. That was, probably, the best that her luck could give her. “Pocket, Invisible Mode,” she ordered.

Her ears twitched, and she rolled to one side. Just in time, as an arrow whistled past and stuck itself into the ground where she had been just a second ago. She glanced at the arrow, attempting to judge its trajectory. They were shooting from the East. She was an open target if she broke into a run now. Given the arrow’s position and impact, they were firing high, and not from an elevated position. Whoever was shooting at her saw her before she ducked out of cover, and were trying their luck. This was good luck for her. Remaining prone, she managed her bearings, and started to crawl towards the cover she had spotted earlier.

She could hear the other participants rustling through the wheat, some of them coming to a halt, before they hit the ground. Occasionally, these sounds were accompanied with the fresh scent of blood, and, very soon, it was the only thing she could smell, overpowering the original scent of wheat and fresh air.

After a while of crawling, she paused, and waited. More rustling. She heard the whistle of an arrow, and another body hit the ground. At that moment, she stood up, and checked her bearings once more. The rock formation was just in front of her, barely 20 metres away. She gripped her throwing knives, and broke into a run, sprinting towards cover. She could outrun this archer that was pinning her down easy at this distance. Another whistle alerted her to an incoming projectile, and she banked left. She didn’t bother to check where the arrow hit- she knew it barely touched her from the sound alone. Before the archer could nock another arrow into their bow, she ducked into the cover of the rock formation, in between a crevasse.

She steadied her breathing, and changed her grip on her knives. Here, she would wait. She set her Pocket back to Visible Mode and checked the numbers. The survivors were dropping at an exponentially slower rate now. Still, there was still some time left. Time to go on the defensive.

She crouched down, and listened.
 
Shio Ma

Shio opened his eyes to find an unfamiliar landscape. The scene of wheat filled his nostrils, the soft hum of wind caressing his ears, only to be cut off by the high pitched yammering of what he assumed to be the testing administrator. 400 down to 3, or survive 30 minutes? That was a tall order, not to mention ruthless. The stories he had heard about the tower must be true then. This was a kill or be killed place, one that wasn’t meant for the feint of heart.


Shio began warming up, knowing he would likely have to fight, he wasn’t good with words, and trouble might as well have been his middle name. A quick few jumping jacks, a few quick stretches later. “A stiff body, is a weak minds vessel.” The words of monk Gul-jeon coming to mind.


“Haaaaaaaave... fuuunnnnnn~!!!!”

The words rang out into the empty air, followed by the briefest of silence. Shio quickly surveyed his surroundings. Wheat.... as far as the eye could see.... as well as several, several confused heads. Many of the people he saw though, didn’t appear confused at all, the immediately began systematically, ruthlessly and without care, killing anyone they came across.


Shio heard rustling in the wheat behind him, someone was attacking, and they weren’t trying to be sneaky about it either. Shio smirked a he turned to face his would be opponent. A large humanoid man, with a long scimitar. Shio smirked as he took his stance. Legs shoulder length apart, stomach tight, arms out, palms up. He waited for the older gentleman to get into range, watched as his blade, held fast in his right hand, arched upward. With a burst of focus Shio initiated his counter, his right hand snapping leftward across his body as he sidestepped to the in the same motion. His wrist connecting with his attackers blade arm, using the momentum of the Now already dodged attack. His left arm shot out with a backward chop into the man’s throat, in the same motion sliding his left foot forward, between his untrained legs.


The whole maneuver took but a moment, but the results were sound. The man lay on his back, air knocked from his lungs, sword on the ground, and Shio standing above him, a mild smirk across his young face. He bent over and picked up the weapon. “If you don’t wanna die, I suggest getting out of here.” He said, his voice calm. He eyed the scimitar and decided it wasn’t worth keeping, chopped and rusted. Brandishing the weapon he slid it dangerously close to the man’s still frozen in awe face. “I’d hide if I were you.” He added befitting turning and running off. Even he knew that staying in once place was a bad idea.


Not wanting to kill anyone, Shio ran in the direction of the least amount of potential enemies. He was lucky that he was still wearing his monk robes, and tattered as they were it almost helped. As the yellow robes were dirtied during his previous travels, making him much more difficult to spot in the wheat. Though not difficult enough, as another challenger appeared. This one was short, and had managed to sneak up on him!


Shio found himself face first in the dirt before he even knew what had happened. The snicker of another competitor behind him. A small dwarfish looking man, brandishing fists that appeared far too large for his body. Shio quickly realized why he hadn’t seen him, he was shorter than the wheat stocks! He chastised himself for not being more careful as he stood. Taking on a more aggressive fighting stance. Muay Thai. The shorter man only grinned as he darted forward, faster than Shio could have possibly expected. Picked up by the small man whose strength obviously surpassed his own, and was tossed painfully into his back. The small man quickly bit onto his shoulder, trying to rip off chunks of flesh.


“Hey! Fucking quit that!” Shio yelled as he punched the back of the man’s head. Slamming fist after fist into the back of his head. The attacks seemed to have no effect, and he could feel hot blood trickling down the back of his shoulder now. He grit his teeth as he sucked in through his nostrils. Pushing the shinsoo trough his body he felt the enhancement take effect. His time, the punch was far more effective. Smashing his left fist into the back of the skull caused it to burst like a watermelon, red gore painting his once yellow robes. Shio tossed the now limp body off him and turned to take in his victim, a sorrowful smile across his face. “I’m sorry. I tried to tell you to stop.” He said before offering a silent prayer for the lost soul.
 
Chewing her hair was once a nervous tick of hers. Once upon a time, people would make fun of her, so she chewed on her hair more just to defy them. Now it was just a matter of habit that when she set her eyes on someone she sought to overcome, the eagle-eyed archer Ebeo Din-Kaenisu (캣 니스 에버 딘) would have tufts of her unkempt hair between her teeth. And Din-Kaenisu saw just such a person in the hooded girl ( simj26 simj26 ) who didn't really seem to quite understand the importance of moving first and looking later. It was to the girl the greatest fortune that she, Ebeo, was the one to set her eyes upon her, for she had a maxim:

"Awfayzz mipthh the firtht phthot." She explained to absolutely nobody in particular. She grinned though clumps of brown hair fibers while nocking an arrow as if the thought finished itself. Because there's no sport in hitting a target that isn't on the run! After the arrow was fashioned appropriately, Din-Kaenisu took great care to only draw the bowstring back as much as was needed to send the arrow flying, no more and no less, so that when she finally let the arrow loose the darling girl would have plenty of time to leap out of the way.

...

After the warning shot was fired, the hooded girl began to run and leap and roll around to avoid Ebeo's shots. She began to think of the girl as like a wild jackrabbit; of all the pray, only a jackrabbit would run away from and not towards her assailant. To her great pleasure, she managed to connect a shot with a bypasser who had leaped for her pray. But in her hubris, as she went to nock the arrow that would draw last blood from the sweet little jack-rabbit, she had let her escape into the cliffs. She wouldn't be able to get her there, and Ebeo did not wish to put herself at a disadvantage to hunt a pray she clearly let get away. After all, she had to set her eyes on greater pray, and her thoughts would return to the severed head of King Zahard as she eyed out her next target.

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Anastasia had went on the defensive after finding herself a convenient crevasse to hide herself in after the untimely onslaught of arrows came raining down on her. She had knelt down to listen to her surroundings... For a while, there was nothing. No other contestant seemed to have located her hiding spot, and if they did none seemed to want to approach her. Surprisingly, after about 5 minutes had passed the ground beneath her seemed to shake. If she tried to identify where the sound was coming from... from the left? right? ahead of her? No... it seemed to come from behind her, inside the cliff wall!

In the distance, the sound of a rock formation crumbling could be heard...
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"That kid! That stupid, cocky kid! That idiot, stupid, cocky, too-cool-for-school... idiot kid!" He beat his fist into the ground. How was he supposed to repair his pride now!? He violated the one law of his pirate clan: don't let your honor be taken and not your life! The kid was even so insulting he refused to take his weapon after knocking the wind out of him! What!? Was it not good enough for him!? Readjusting his blue bandanna so that it was on incorrectly, but in the wrong way, and dramatically thrusting his scimitar into the sky, Paeja Haejeog (패자 해적) made the dramatic declaration. "I'll kill that rude, arrogant, mean, idiot, stupid, cocky, too-cool-for-school, idiot monk kid if it's the last thing I do! Or my name isn't Paeja Haejeog of the Agdang Clan!"

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Remaining Regulars: 317
Remaining Time: 23:48​
 
Sing Lo Po Bia

Sing looked around trying to understand where he was. Was this the testing floor? It looked more peaceful than he'd imagined. Regulars and Rankers alike always described it as a bloodbath. The waving golden grass and warm blue fake sky made the place feel surprisingly pleasant at least to Sing. He wouldn't mind taking a nap or reading a book lying on a warm rock here. Maybe this climbing the tower thing wouldn't be that bad. The test examiner's voice sounded loudly through the air to give the regulars their instruction for the test. When the voice finished, Sing turned and walked in no hurry towards a warm-looking rock to wait out the next 30 minutes. That was what the instructions had been: wait and do nothing for 30 minutes and everyone passes.

There was no reason given for anyone to bother fighting, so that anyone would actually choose to fight didn't even cross Sing's mind until something tugged on his hair. It was Oz, Sing's slug partner, the only connection that could be made between the boy and his family name. The small floating slug tugged on Sing's hair again, trying to pull his head. "What is it Oz?" Sing turned, just in time for an arrow to split his hair where his head had been. The metal arrowhead chipped the stone and bounced off.

Sing looked at the mark in the stone next to him and then towards where the arrow had come from. Another was already cutting through the air towards him. "Why?" As he clenched a fist against his side, a blue ball of light formed in the arrow's path. The arrow cut through the weak baang like it wasn't there, only to hit against the stone a few feet from its stationary target. "Why fight?" There, on top of a taller rock about a hundred feet away, the archer. Sing extended his fishing pole and pointed it at the person trying to kill him. He didn't swing it, he simply held it out and then a blue ball of light shot from the end and flew towards the archer. The baang held inside it a small needle pulling behind it the line from the fishing pole.

It would have pierced the archer if not for Sing being distracted by another regular approaching from behind. This one held a wicked-looking four-pronged spear. "Why!" Sing yelled out. Why fight!? What was the point of any of this!? The baang flying towards the archer suddenly changed direction, swinging in a wide arc back towards this new target. The line connecting the needle to Sing's fishing pole cut a clean half-circle of the golden grass before it connected with the regular's hand that held the spear. He hadn't even had time to raise it fully, and he wouldn't get the chance to. The needle stabbed into his wrist, depositing its coating of Oz's neurotoxin directly into his bloodstream. The regular's hand and arm seized up, followed by the rest of his body as he fell onto the ground. Sing turned in time to deflect another arrow, but the archer was already gone.

Sing climbed down off of the rock he'd wished to pass this test in peace upon. It didn't seem like he would be allowed to do that. He kneeled down to check on the collapsed regular and make sure he hadn't cut their wrist so they'd bleed out. Down on the ground, he couldn't even see much through the grass, so when the sound of someone else approaching reached his ears, he didn't bother thinking twice about sending the needle flying away to stab whoever it was. The toxin had them sprawling as quickly as it had the regular Sing was attending to. "The bleeding it a bit much..." he mumbled to himself, ignoring the half-formed words trying to escape the person's throat. He didn't care about them, but seeing that they didn't die needlessly was as good a way to pass a half hour as sitting around waiting to be attacked. So he got to work using his shinsoo-controlled needle and the local grass to fashion a bandage for this regular. He hadn't seen where he'd stabbed the second regular, so he'd check on them next.
 
Long, rolling fields of wheat. Buffeted gently by a mid-season breeze, the landscape that unfolded out in front of her was like nothing she'd perceived before.

There was a certain beauty to be found in man-made shapes and geometry. The contrast struck between greys both cool and warm was a subtle one, and one that she'd never had much appreciation for, but one that had inundated her life since birth. Since the moment she'd first laid eyes upon the world, the monotonous, precise design of industry and science had been all she knew of the world. Even her most stunning of vistas hadn't been much to write home about. Sprawling seas of white marble, to be sure, were a dazzling sight to behold, but even they fell prey to the droll repetition of symmetry that ruled the civilized world.

She'd never thought herself to be the sappy type, but for a first sight to be met with within the Inner Tower, this rated pretty highly. Breathtaking, perhaps. She breathed in deeply, letting the crisp, smog-free air flow throughout her body. If she was the sappy type, then she might have been happy to die right here and now.

But despite her brief reverie, she wasn't. Even in her momentary bliss, the girl's eyes and ears had been at full alert. She'd processed the test administrator's directions well enough. Kill or be killed, at least that's what the gist of it implied, but the subtext reminded her of another sort of test. As much as she hated to admit it, she'd always been pretty good at listening to instructions. If she worked off of the assumption that this twisted bastard shtick was just an act, then she was pretty sure the they would be testing them on exactly that.

Well, there was also a fair chance that whoever was in charge just wanted to reduce their workload.

She could already hear the sounds of conflict quite clearly. In the distance, steel clanged against steel, and the odd ring of gunfire filled the distant soundscape. Just like that, her peaceful paradise had been broken. What a shame.

Dropping as low to the ground as she could, the young woman hid herself within the wheat stalks, and a mechanical whir resonated from within her skull. Then, her vision rose. Normally, stealth came at the price of perception, but situations like this were one of the few times when she appreciated the boons that those Workshop rats had given her. From within the wheat field, a small observer rose; up, up and even further up, until it reached the edge of its effective range and gazed down upon the battlefield.

Watching herself from above like this had always been a little disorienting, to say the least. The human mind was only naturally trained to look upon the world from the first person, after all, but she'd refined the skill to the point where she was able to find her bearings soon enough. To her right and left, she could spot another pair of backs pushing slowly through the underbrush, and for a moment her blade gleamed at her side.

It would've been easy enough. With information on her side, the element of surprise came hand in hand. All she would have needed to do was to stay quick and quiet, loop around them and...

She shook her head. There was no need for her to go about dirtying her hands just yet. For now, she moved in the opposite direction of the pair.

As she trawled through the fields, a few other Regulars caught her interest. Every now and again she'd find an archer or gunman, perched high atop a rock formation or nestled snugly within a tree, but they were easy enough to avoid. So long as she kept out of their line of sight, the most of them were either too cowardly or lazy to pursue her. There had been a few close encounters, them aside. Even if she had such a grand view of the battlefield she was still only human, and could only spread her attention so thinly, but where her observation failed to keep her safe, her speed made up for it.

Minutes passed, and with the tick of each second the Regular count seemed to drop. Her peers either weren't too bright, or were just too bloodthirsty, it seemed. Not that there was much of a difference between the two. That said, the lower the survivor count got, the more danger she was pretty sure she'd be in. As paradoxical as it sounded, apex predators were sure to emerge soon, and she was pretty sure that they weren't going to be satisfied with just ten or twenty victims. She needed to hide, and soon.

Her eye scanned the landscape, momentarily shifting its gaze from her and searching for a good spot to weather out the storm. A few locations looked promising, but she it didn't take long for her to settle on one. She moved quickly and quietly, through the wheat, up and across a pair of rock formations, then finally dropped down between them. From her eye's survey, this had seemed to be the best place to tuck herself away. She'd definitely be in trouble if someone decided to rain hell on her from the cliff above, but that was what she had her Observer to warn her about.

Or at least, that had been what she'd thought. Upon dropping into the crevasse, her undeployed eye darted around the environment, and caught an unexpected sight; another Regular. For a moment, her heart stopped and her mind raced. A number of angles of attack and methods of escape ran through her thoughts, but then they quickly settled.

"Ah!" She spoke with an awkward start. If she just looked at this objectively, this lady was hiding too, right?

Then if luck was with her, she also wasn't looking to fight.

"Hey there, pretty lady!" She beamed, speaking to the woman with a sharkish grin, despite the bead of nervous sweat working its way down her spine. "You don't need to worry yourself about me. Uh. That is to say, I'm a pacifist today, you know? Can you believe these idiots? Mowing each other down like this? Yeesh, and I thought it was stupid." She hesitated, and watched for the woman's reaction. For all she knew, she'd reply to her jokes and jives with the sharp end of a Needle, so she was still on her guard.

"So uh, mind sharing your spot here? Or do you wanna do rock-paper-scissors to decide who gets to stay?"

simj26 simj26
 
Sum-Gil Bo Jun
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Gentle wind ran across the spikes of wheat. Endless gold seemed to roll onwards forever, even the leaves, stalks, and roots. Sum-Gil had stood in a small clearing of hardened dry soil. He was moved by the endlessly waving fields. He reached down out to touch the cusp of a budding plant when he was interrupted by a buzzing voice from above. He had been excited to hear the voice of the greatest warrior to defy Zahard’s will. Whatever ideas he had about Evankhell were quickly crushed by the shrill microphones and the voice behind them. He felt his heart begin to pound as soon as the voice stopped. “Pocket visible mode.” He commanded. All that he could make out was that the number was dropping far too quickly to count. That was all the motivation Sum-Gil needed to get moving.

Lengths of golden grass flattened under his feet, leaving a faint trail as they started to push themselves upright again. The yellow flecks caught on his clothes and nipped at his ankles, sometimes ever catching him on the wrist or the outside of his hand. Were a bird to look down at the fields they would find Sum-Gil running towards a clearing at the edge of a thick group of trees. While he ran it became more apparent that he was approaching a several people, presumably fighting. Shouts rang out just a few hundred feet away, and the sounds of various kinds of violence crept just far enough to make Sum-Gil stop dead in his tracks.

Lowering himself to the top of the foliage, Sum-Gil crept forwards. As he got closer, he could make out that whatever fighting he had heard earlier had finished. Two pairs of feet ran off, trudging through the wheat far off. He poked his head up and saw two people who had presumably teamed up turn into mere specks in the field. He looked over to the clearing and saw their opponents in a sorry state. Instead of letting the sight linger much longer Sum-Gil took off across the clearing straight into the patch of trees.

Several minutes had already passed, and Sum-Gil had thus far achieved his goal of not wasting energy. He took the time he spent idling as he found himself hunkering down between a few trees to process everything. He had already seen several presumably dead regulars and he had only just arrived. All things considered; this was going fairly well for him. The only thing left to do was to survive for about twenty minutes.

However, hiding wasn’t exactly Sum-Gil’s strong suit. His patience wasn’t exactly a skill that would be worth putting on his resume either. What was probably only a minute of rest had felt like an eternity. He crept out from the trees, spying a mound of rocks only a short distance away. He took off running, his jacket slapping against his back as he swung his arms. Surprisingly nothing whirred past him and nobody got in his way. It was just quiet. Oddly quiet.
 
Almost out of instinct, she crouched down further, attempting to make herself a smaller target, as soon as the other girl dropped down in front of her hiding spot. She didn’t attack first, but her knives had already made their way between her fingers, ready to be let fly. Anastasia couldn’t smell the scent of blood on her, and she didn’t look to be carrying any ranged weapons, so it was likely that she, too, was looking to run the timer down to zero as well. That, or she was trying to have Anastasia play the role of her first victim. She didn’t know the range of the other girl’s weapons, that is, if she had any to begin with. Still, it was better to play it safe. She said nothing, but shuffled to one side. She jerked her head to the side of the wall of the rock formation, as if to tell her that she should stay there, rather than come to her spot.

That was, until the tremors started. “What--” Anastasia murmured to herself. Something about the vibrations was unsettling her. Her ears twitched, and her hair stood on end. What was this feeling? Something was wrong. It wasn’t until a moment after that she realised what was the issue. The tremors were coming from within the cliff wall itself. “What the hell--?” she scurried away from the wall. Unconsciously, she grabbed onto the girl’s collar, and pulled her to one side away from the rock formation. Dropping the girl, she backed away from the rock formation slowly, glancing every so often behind her to check her surroundings.

What the hell was going on within those rocks?
 
Shio Ma



The sounds of battle echoed around Shio as he did his best to stay still below the wheat stalks, hoping to avoid confrontation. Blood squelched upon his left hand with each move, each twitch of a finger. He did his best to ignore it, knowing that guilt would do nothing for him, save sending him to an early reunion with his victim. The small man had attacked him first, so too had the scimitar gentleman, he had only acted in retaliation. Had the small man not latched onto him so violently, he would have likely been able to spare him, like he had the scimitar guy.... Shio sighed, still kneeling over the corpse of the small man. He knew he couldn’t stay here, torturing himself over this corpse, he had to move, find somewhere else to wait out this culling, he peeked over the top of the wheat stalks. Only a few people still fought in the distance. This would be as good a time as any to make a run for it.


“Pocket, visible mode” He said, searching for the small little thing. Only five minutes had passed? What a day this would be. Shio opted to look for a place to hide out. The less he killed needlessly, the better he would feel later. Shio stood, sprinting off in be opposite direction of the five other regulars that were locked in a furious death match.


He ran without confrontation for several minutes until a large mountain cage into view, only to see it seemingly explode in on itself. Shio has been heading toward it, figuring it to be the best place to wait things out. Skidding to a halt he watched he dust settle. “Boy am I glad I didn’t make it there...” he said to himself as he observed his surroundings once more, though his observation was quickly met with the very loud, very obvious charge of a familiar face.


“You idiot-kid! Too cool for school-idiot kid! I’ll gut you for what you did to me!” He shouted from several yards away, his scimitar raised high above his head once again, almost perfectly recreating his first attack only minutes prior....


“Oh come on old guy, I told you.... give it up....” Shio sighed, feeling a little sorry for the guy. He entered the same stance as before, preparing to deal with the rabid gentleman as he had before, though this time with a bit more force....


As the Pirate came within striking distance he yelled once more “I am Paeja Haejeog and Im gonna kill you! You punk-idiot-kid, I won’t bring dishonor to the Agdang Clan! You damn idiot monk!”


The attack came similar to before, and Shio sidestepped as he had before, though to clansmans credit, he had learned from their previous encounter! Shio saw the blade abruptly halt its trajectory, instead slicing diagonally to his right, straight for his neck!

Shio was caught off guard, if only momentarily... reversing his movement by putting his weight into his back foot once more, he instead chopped downward on the man’s sword hand, causing the blade to slice into the empty dirt below. His right hand took a fistful of the man’s shirt, pulling his tender stomach into his right knee, combo’d with a left elbow to the back of his head.



Haejeog fell limp face first and butt up onto the ground, saliva spilling from his mouth as he likely faded from consciousness. Shio leaned down and whispered into his ear. “That’s twice now I could have killed you. There will not be a third.” As if to punctuate his point, he slammed his foot down on the scimitad, snapping the blade in half.
 

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