Supreme Swordfiend

“Zaibatsu. Zaiiiibatsuuuu. Subatzai. The Blooddrake Subatzai. Damn, that name’s way cooler.”

Feet kicked up on the commander’s table, Leon tried to entertain himself while the last of the mercenaries took themselves off-world.

The details of their exit had bored him, so he’d wandered off while Octavia and a sulphur devil had arranged everything.

Something shook him from his relative peace, a prickling at the edges of his senses that felt familiar.

Too familiar.

If what he felt was what he suspected, then things had grown complicated.

Parting the flaps of the tent, Leon marched toward the nearest devil.

“The hell is that?”

Whatever differences between the genders existed, Leon hadn’t been able to identify them, so the sound of a woman’s voice coming from a sulphur devil’s body shocked him.

“I got a name, you know. It’s Xera.”

Leon merely flared himself in response, leaning towards the shorter humanoid.

“Sass me again, Xera and I’ll nicely ask Zerasos to rip your fucking head off. Answers, now.”

Invoking her boss’ name had Xera snap to attention.

“Not sure, boss. Feels kinda like you, but less bloodthirsty.”

“Thanks. Move.”

To her credit, she pressed herself flat against the doorway, allowing Leon entry to his sister’s home.

It looked nice.

Detailed observations proved impossible as a thread of panic wound itself around his neck, pulling tighter until his breaths came out as ragged gasps.

The whole family sat in their living room, a sulphur devil of greater power than all the rest lecturing them.

“... we can’t get you off-world, since you’ll be a target no matter where you get shunted. My old man says wisest thing we can do for ya is keep you people safe. The kid gave up a lot to make sure of it and we’ll honour that trust- speak of the devil- great expression by the way- there he is!” Pleasure to meet ya kid, Xeraxian’s the name, wheeling and dealings the game. At least it was. The old man has me here helping- anything you need, kid, drop me a line.”

Raising a fist to halt the tumult flowing from the eager devil, Leon then presented his hand.

“A pleasure Xeraxian. Get me a crystal with a line to your boss and give me five minutes with them. Circumstances have changed.”

The steel in his voice had the devil moving out of the room, a hasty two-finger salute thrown, and the door closed to let Leon say what needed to be said.

He felt them now, the two of them, their auras so small and bound.

He understood the pity Auberon had for him now. A child shouldn’t have such a burden placed on them.

Someone made to speak, forcing Leon to do so instead.

“Quiet. I’ll only say this once, so listen closely. The mana awoke something in these two. They are like me. They will be masters of swordplay, able to gauge strength with their aura and inflict fear upon any fool enough to oppose them. Every victory will feed their pride, every loss will cut it down. They cannot run from battle, under threat of their own body ripping itself apart.”

He made eye contact with the boy and the girl. Apprehensive and excited, a certain hunger where there should have been fear.

“I am sorry. Sorry that our blood took hold in your children sister. They will have to leave. All of you will. Uncle Cyrus will shelter you once he learns you are truly kin to us.”

Running a hand through his butchered hair, the Swordfiend looked at his niece and nephew and sighed.

“Death would be kinder to you. One day, you two will curse me for being too weak to nip this in the bud. Death would be far kinder than the life the blood forces on our kind.”

Leon’s eyes locked on the boyfriend, who sat ramrod straight, hand entwined with the girls.

“You love her? My niece?”

He nodded, though the question caught the others off guard. Leon nodded back.

“Good. This information is sensitive- for family only. You understand what I’m getting at, don’t you? They’ll target your family to get at her, to get at me and I won’t spend my resources to protect your family- it would only confirm their value as targets. Choose. Her or them.”

They would hate him for this. Leon knew it. Their fear would morph into contempt.

His heart sank as the boy unwound his hand, standing tall and speaking without fear.

“I can’t let my parents face this alone. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I’d like to leave, sir, please my parents...”

Leon’s fingers went white around his sword sheath, a snarl ripping forth instead of steel.

“Sit. Down. Think about this carefully, boy.”

The venom in his voice had them all silent, a knock at the door proving a welcome distraction.

Xeraxian wordlessly passed a crystal to Leon, Zerasos’ figure visible within the display.

“Mornin’, kid, how’d you heal up? Last time I saw you, your arm was gone and your guts were half rotten!”

“We have a problem. Get me Cyrus Sha on the line. Now.”

The call hung for a moment as Zerasos rang his uncle.

The older fiend appeared within seconds, visage no less imposing through the display, a playful grin on his face.

“Leon- enjoying your homecoming? I hear you’ve already beaten back a mercenary group. Well done.”

Leon paused, drawing his thoughts together as he managed his breathing.

“Cyrus. I need you to take my family in. My existing arrangements with Hellstone Incorporated will no longer suffice, as my niece and nephew are family- in all the ways which matter. I can’t let them stay here.”

The man’s brows furrowed, knitting together as deep frown lines formed on his face, but when he spoke, it was with conviction and surety.

“Done. Have the devil arrange transportation and I’ll foot the bill. Give that planet hell, Leon.”

“Xeraxian will prep the house for portalling, kid. Relax.”

Both dropped their side of the call and Leon returned to breathing.

In and out.

It would be okay.

They would be safe now.

He felt the movement in the air and barked before he realised who’d stood.

“What part of sit do you not get!”

The boy had the wherewithal to look sheepish, head bowed, eyes darting back and forth.

“Sorry dude, need to access the gents’ room.”

“Sit.”

Pulling up his own seat as his nephew slumped back down, Leon refused to meet anyone’s pointed gazes.

“So? Her or them?”

“Both. I choose both.”

The little gleam in his eyes, the confidence he’d had to spout that line, his niece’s arm wrapped around the stupid prick’s side.

Something snapped in that moment and Leon snapped right along with it.

“Aw! That’s so goddamned cute I think I’m gonna fucking puke! No. That isn’t an answer. This isn’t a sappy rom-com where mean Uncle Leon backs down when he sees you’re oh-so serious- you know too much. So. Plain English it is. Abandon your family to preserve my secrets or I will kill you. Right here, right now. I’ll rip your pretty little head off with my bare fucking hands. Now choose or I’ll choose for you. Life or death.”

There followed a chorus of retorts from all but the boyfriend.

Leon tuned them out as he watched the realisation growing in the young man.

“Life.”

His reply silenced the room. Leon’s hands finally loosened, blood flowing back into his fingers as he moved on to the second issue.

“Wise. You’ll be living with Uncle Cyrus and his apprentice. Behave yourselves. He’s like me, but older. Much older.”

He paused, weighing his last words.

“I’m not sorry. I’ll do what I have to do to protect you all. From me, from yourselves, from the world. Doesn’t really matter. Hate me if it makes you feel better. Become stronger than me if you can’t stand it. Keep safe- I have a war to wage.”

Sweeping to his feet, he felt their eyes on him and felt a gap form.

A subtle and minute distance that may as well have been miles, an unbridgeable void that prevented closeness and familiarity.

A sacrifice he could stomach.

He closed the door with something in between a slam and gentle press, palming off the crystal to Xeraxian, the devil engulfed in carving runes into the wooden staircase.

“Thanks for the work- get yourselves off-world once you’re done. This [H] Grade air can’t be healthy for you.”

The female sulphur devil stood to attention as he exited, snapping her head towards him.

“Boss, someone here to see you. She’s waiting in the tent there.”

A thick tension lay over the area, one Leon had not noticed amidst his panic. Eyeing the devil, he kept his tone light.

“Red hair?”

“Black.”

Sucking in a lungful of chilly midnight air, Leon pushed his way into the tent, coming face to face with a stranger.

She sat, legs crossed in her shabby robes of black and gold, her dark skin somewhere between orange and red, a dusky sort of hue that looked like a slight full-body blush.

Black hair lay bound in a ring behind her head, a cultural custom of some sort Leon suspected, though he dared not voice a question.

The woman before him both was and was not, a screaming absence in reality that he could not evaluate.

“Mr Knox. Take a seat, please.”

Her words crawled up his spine.

He hadn’t heard her speak.

She’d injected the words in his head, and yet he’d seen her mouth move.

So he obeyed. There were people you could fight and ones who would just kill you. He knew she belonged to the latter category.

“Will you let me take your hand in mine, Mr Knox? I need you to be calm and centred for our discussion- you had to do something stressful, painful even, and recently at that. Please, place your hand on the table.”

He obeyed, his own armour recoiling as her clawed fingers drew near, scratching his skin.

“Strong hands. Bloody hands. Guiltless and guileless hands. Hands that will take and give based on nothing more than your whims, your selfish desires and roiling emotions. You really are perfect.”

She smiled and the world vanished.

There was only water and wind and lightning.

The storm.

He was sorry he wasn’t sorry and he’d hated his life and how he had wished for something, something great and powerful and meaningful to die for and now it had arrived and he would live his dream of endless bloodshed until he died alone and unloved on a field of red dirt surrounded by broken steel and the storm.

The storm howled.

He stood over them and made them scream even though he didn’t like it, but he had to or they would make the ones he loved scream. The weak ones who couldn’t protect themselves, the fucking burdens, the anchors around his ankles that he wanted to kill yet couldn’t. He loved and loathed in equal measure and felt so terribly guilty for the hate and the thoughts that were both his darkest desires and worst fears.

The storm raged.

So he moved and killed and forged and never stopped. Stopping led to thoughts, and those were always bad, so he kept making more enemies and fighting more battles. Always more, to feed the seething hunger in his chest, to keep the gears turning.

If they stopped, the machine would break.

He could not allow it.

The storm screamed.

In its eye he stood, a maelstrom of chaos churning the waters, whipping the winds and calling the lightning to serve as stakes of his electric fury. One could not defeat a storm, only survive it. A storm created nothing, it only destroyed.

He was the storm.

“Thank you, Mr Knox. For showing me your soul.”

The voice felt familiar to the storm, yet for all his power, he could not find the speaker.

“You won’t feel those feelings anymore. Your family, your old friends. Those emotional connections are holding you back. They’ll come back when I decide you can have them again. But not before. Now. Wake up.”

The storm was Leon again, sitting in the chair, inside the tent of the commander he’d killed with the funny name. Opposite him, the woman smiled again, retracting her hand, and Leon felt a spike of fear in his stomach.

“Insight Gained- Embodied Storm- Middle Shallow Level.”

She raised a brow as though she could see the pop-up.

“How quaint. You hadn’t yet attained that trifling insight?”

He should have been looking at its description, and yet Leon instead focused on his memories.

His mother, his father, his sister, his best friend and his niece and nephew. He felt nothing for them, a set of familiar strangers he knew he should love and care for, and he could muster nothing for now.

Indifference and apathy where there should be something more.

She’d left him enough to know she had fucked with him.

He hadn’t noticed her eyes, her dark yellow sclera with bright red pupils.

“Oh, stop worrying, Mr Knox. I told you, those bonds will come back when you need them. As you are, they would only slow you down.”

To provoke her would be to court death- decidedly unwise.

Then, Leon had never been very smart, his question slipping out against his better judgment.

“What the fuck did you do to me?”

The look in her eyes scared him.

A mixture of arousal, hunger, and relief.

“I took away your distractions, Mr Knox. A little trick of soul magic. I’d be more than happy to teach you once your trial is complete. It is so nice to hear your voice! The nastiness is over with. Now, introductions are in order.”

She flicked her leg from one side to the other, robes rolling back to reveal her clawed hands as she offered her name.

“I am Versa. Of the True Demon Sect. It is so good to meet you!”

She paused, then raised a hand to cover her mouth as she laughed at him, a mixture of childish glee and sadistic relish.

“Well? Your turn.”