"That they are just that, refugees if they have seen the folly of their leaders, then they are no more then victims them selves."
>"And besides, if it wasn't for Dayna," spare a slight glance to her. "Pops McHarl," Nod towards him. "And everyone else who fought beside me at that time, I wouldn't have made it out of that fight alive."
>Determined expression.
>"Because of that, I consider them friends. And asking me to turn on a friend is something I'll never do."
>"Obviously we disagree then, boy. These demons are no more your friends than a spy."
>The claymore shifts in direction, now pointing at you. "I'm sure you're aware of the customs around here. Prove to me your convictions."
>Obviously you were aware of their traditions. In a dispute where two sides have an equal argument, rite of combat is used to decide. You honestly weren't expecting that kind of fairness, since using rite of combat implies that the argument is equal.
>No...this suits you just fine.
>McHarl moves forward, but you hold a hand out to stop him. "I got this."
>The two of you circle each other like hyenas. Your knife absolutely pales in the face of his swords, which he is holding two of now. If he's Natalie's master, then...similar powers, probably. At some point, you're going to see terrakinesis. He's stronger and faster than your average person. It's all guesswork...but your instinct tells you its so.
>Suddenly he dashes forward, both swords scissoring towards your torso. You jab forward with your knife then leap back, clear out of the range of the swords.
>A time clone rips into existence as the swords clear the space, repeating your knife jab and surprising your foe. It's a feint you've practiced with Dayna, and it proves effective: he barely throws his head back in time, a thin red line drawn across his nose.
>He snarls and rushes again. Anger has taken him, you realize, as the swings are wide and wild; less refined, less controlled than Natalie's by far. Is this what you were afraid of?
>You flick your hand forward, a knife colliding with one of his swords. Both freeze in time, and with his sword frozen in place he jerks and stops, still gripping the sword tight.
>The opening is all too easy to take. Throwing time into dilation, the world becomes a slideshow. Your blades flash across his torso, even as he tries to defend himself, slow as the attempt is to you.
>As expected, no dice. Not to mention his vest, his hardened skin is near impossible to penetrate.
>Dashing past him, you throw an icepick stab behind you before opening up some distance. Time's normal speed returns.
>
That managed to do something, at least. A small puncture, but a wound nonetheless. Anyways, you've done what you set out to do.
>Make a fool of him. Make him look like a big oaf. If he threatens the happiness of the two girls you've made your wards, then...then he doesn't deserve dignity. You'll protect those smiles, and if they're sent back you can't do that.
>No more tears. Not under your watch.
>He readies himself again, takes a deep breath, and fully directs his killing intent at you. It's like a battering ram, but with you lash out with your own and press it back.
>Time to get serious then. He's calmed down...you pull out another knife and hold it in front of you, side by side with the other.
>Memories return.
>"Since you're a knife user and all, you gotta make sure you're ready ta take on guys with bigger weapons. Like me! My master taugh' me how to deal with how most knife users defend 'emselves versus us big sword users, so we can probably reverse engineer tha'.">You close your eyes for a moment, thank Natalie for the lesson, and dive in.
>He's good, now that he's focused. Pommel strikes, knees, kicks, all the dirty tricks. He's obviously accustomed to fighting people with smaller weapons, but your slight size and agility works to your advantage.
>Stay close. Keep inside his range, make it awkward to attack you. If you have to block, block as close to the hilt as possible and use both knives, one supporting the other.
>You can't even find the usual fun you find in good fights, as morbid as that fun is. This isn't even...this is just a chore. Trying to pierce his defense while he tries to actually hit you. Like a bee versus a bear.
>How is it even possible that the flesh can be so hard, yet still allow him free range of movement? That doesn't even...wait.
>A wide swing from him is flipped over, and you slash at the inside of his elbow...and hit gold. Or blood.
>Of course. You never really even bothered with Natalie, since she was a friend and the point of your spars was to improve speed, but there had to be a weakness in a technique that turns you into the Terminator. The joints have to be left soft, or else movement is impossible. So
obvious...and so easy to
exploit.
>He's left frozen, both arms raised above him. He thinks he's caught you in an awkward moment, still recovering from the intense acrobatic maneuver you pulled off. Small wounds like that are nothing...but a death of a thousand cuts is well within your abilities.
>Armpits, wrists, elbows, knees, ankles, heels. Fingers and toes. To a lesser extent, the hips. Like some kind of demonic missile targeting system, your blade locks in to each and every target.
>Absolute cripple.
>With your work done, time resumes.
>He cries out in pain and collapses to his knees, both of his swords dropped. All your wounds were shallow, but the culmination of them...well...he's gonna have trouble moving for a while, unless he gets healed. Doubtless he will.
>He clicks his tongue in annoyance, filled with a notable resignation, as your knife presses up against his neck. Not that he can really stop you. "...right. Clearly, I'm outmatched when it comes to power. I defer to your judgement, Hunter. The dispute is solved."
>It's times like these that really make you appreciate how broken a power time stopping is.
>Hunters swarm in from the treeline. About three rush to your foe's side and immediately begin covering him in a soft glow, something you're pretty sure is healing magic. As McHarl clasps a hand to your shoulder, as Dayna appears at your other shoulder with Luna behind her, and as Lily rushes to your side in worry, the Hunters gather around and enter the clearing.
>...
>You all sit around a fire. Having explained the situation in its entirety to Natalie's Master, who you now know as Huntsman Jonathan, sighs. "I see. There's nothing to be done then. Natalie died well, and she seems to have transferred her spark to you."
>...wait what, spark?
