120 Chapter 119 - Family of Shadows

Two decades ago in a small rustic village…

A group of men in armor all sat around a small table. Most of the men had removed their helmets, having them sit on the table in front of them. All except for one of them.

???: You can take off your helmet when we're just discussing, Lorisian. No need to wear it all the time.

The knight with orange messy hair and a healed scar on his face patted Lorisian on the back. The sound of the hand slapping against the metal rang in the suit and out the helmet. Lorisian turned to the man, his expression entirely hidden by the armor.

Lorisian: I feeleth most at peace at which hour I am in this armor, brother Laurence.

Laurence – the orange-haired knight – met Lorisian with a smile, raising a cup into the air.

Laurence: I guess you're right. We're the Shadows of the Round Table after all! Being a knight is our greatest honor!

All the men in the hall cheered. The Shadows of the Round Table was the name of a group of men that had decided that earning the title of knight would be the greatest honor. They lived peacefully in a small rustic town. Those that held the most power within the Shadows were known as the Inner Circle. The time had come for them to return home. Laurence and Lorisian walked together in the candlelit night. They left the building – which served as the hall for the Inner Circle of the Shadows of the Round Table – and entered the darkened town. They entered one home where a woman was wearing a rather long gown with a young boy clutching tightly onto it. Laurence ran over to both and held them tightly in his arms.

Laurence: Isabella! Lance! How great it is to be home!

Lorisian smiled under his helmet, seeing the happy family of three. His older brother, who was in the Inner Circle – the upper ranks of the Shadows of the Round Table – was living the happiest life he could.

Laurence: We have great news! We've finally chosen the next Shadow's Champion! We plan to meet again during the night tomorrow to discuss the details further. But I'm proud to have found a man that we can truly confide in.

Isabella: That's great news! Who is this man that'll be taking the title?

Lorisian: He's 'mongst the most artful of us knights. The one known as Pierre Halberd.

Lance: Why aren't you the champion, papa? You're in the Inner Circle, right?

Laurence: While I would love to be, I can agree that Pierre is far above me. But we should all rest. We have to prepare for the following night.

Night passed. Then day. The following night arrived as the Inner Circle met to discuss the position of the mysterious Pierre as the Shadow's Champion. Lorisian was not a member of the Inner Circle, but since his brother was, he was trusted to join their meetings. He had called for Isabella and Lance to meet him after he had met with the Inner Circle. The pathway to the meeting hall was eerily quiet, but Lorisian had decided to ignore it.

He had finally reached the hall, placing both hands on the handles of the doorway and pulling it with great strength. The doors swung open, and Lorisian could only feel horror enter his body. The sight in front of him was nothing short of a slaughter. Each member of the Inner Circle had been brutally massacred with their blood painting the walls and had extinguished the candles. Lorisian ran into the room, kneeling next to his brother's corpse. His brother's trusty claymore had been thrust into his chest. Laurence had turned to Lorisian with all the strength he had left in his body to utter a single name…

Laurence: Pierre…

Lorisian could feel the anger build up within him, but that was destroyed the moment he heard a gasp behind him. Isabella held the young Lance in her arms, a look of fear had overcome her. Lance's young eyes took in the sight, seeing Lorisian kneeling over his father's corpse.

Lance: Papa…

…

Lorisian's vision of the young Lance – who now went by Quintin – and his brother Laurence dissipated. He raised his sword, a heavy feeling in his chest.

Lorisian's thoughts: Thy name shall not beest sullied, brother Laurence.

Quintin gritted his teeth at the knight who had taken his stance once more. In Quintin's eyes, Lorisian was nothing more than a murderer who hid his face behind the armor. Knighthood was simply another form of glorified murder.

Quintin's thoughts: Go down, you old bastard.

Quintin's legs glew up once more, sending him flying toward Lorisian. He came to a stop just before the knight, his right foot flying off the ground and aimed at the knight's neck. Lorisian parried the kick with the side of his blade. The knight slid his sword down Quintin's legs, aiming directly for the thigh. To his surprise, a plate shot up from Quintin's knee, stopping the sword in its tracks.

Lorisian's thoughts: T's just like mine own blade's cross-guard!

Doctor A pushed up her glasses at the sight of the match.

Doctor A: Now I see why he wanted that addition. An extra layer of protection. Maybe he has some knight blood in him with ideas like that.

Quintin swung the sword away with a downward kick. The plate retracted into the leg. Quintin continued with the momentum of his spin. He landed on his right foot and spun, slamming the heel of his left foot into the side of the knight's helmet. Feeling a momentum brewing in his body, Quintin continued his onslaught of kicks in a rapid and fluid motion. In the observation room that roomed both members of the Imperium and the Arachna, the act was met with wide eyes.

Mike: This is crazy.

Angel: Yeah… I thought you could kick fast, but this is something else…

Simon: Even my kicks can't reach that level…

Nupan and Arthur both lay against the back wall, a cold sweat starting to form on their heads.

Arthur: You know it's a crazy sight when even the kickers are shocked.

Nupan: Simon and Angel I could expect the shock, but Mike? I ain't a kicking genius, but he's definitely above me in that regard.

Arthur: Maybe I should focus on kicks more so I can whoop your ass.

Nupan: You wanna go? Let's see which of us round one losers are better.

Shizu: Shut up, you two. You're distracting from the match.

Arthur: Y-Yes ma'am!

Nupan: You don't need to give us that death glance y'know…

The audience began to chant as Quintin's kicks slowly became blue streaks of light. The fluid motions forced the knight back inch by inch. More and more dents began to form across the armor.

Zachary: This is a one-sided beatdown!

Zenzo: Can Lorisian recover from this?!

Lorisian held his sword tightly with both hands. He felt the armor that surrounded him enclosed. The only word that would describe the state of his armor would be claustrophobic. Yet the knight didn't fear. His left hand left his hilt, catching Quintin's incoming right circular kick. Lorisian gripped tightly, Quintin unable to leave his grasp.

Quintin's thought: Even after all this, you're still a pain in my ass…

Quintin attempted to budge free, but Lorisian had made a move he would never expect. Lorisian sheathed his sword, freeing his right hand. He pulled his fist back before driving it directly into Quintin's face. The punch sent him flying back, blood dripping from his nose. He rolled across the floor, the blue streaks in his legs finally darkening. Lorisian patted himself down, feeling each new dent that riddled his armor.

Lorisian: Thee did damage thy uncle's arm'r quite well, little nephew. And I am quite impressed by the cross-guard in thy leggeth.

Quintin: Shut up… just shut the fuck up.

Quintin dragged his fingers against the hard floor, clenching them into fists. He pushed himself up, the most hate-filled expression enveloping his face. Blood trickled down his nose, surrounded by the red wound on his face. Quintin's glasses had been smashed in, yet he refused to take them off.

Quintin: If you think I'm letting you win, you're one stupid motherfucker!

He stood firmly on both legs. Blood welled upon his chin, slowly dripping onto the ground below. He slid his right leg back, feeling the pulsing of his legs reach his thighs. His eyes flared with rage as he shot off the ground. The vents opened on his legs, pushing Quintin to a greater speed than before. Lorisian prepared for another punch, clenching his fist tightly. Yet the punch never came as the large knight was sent flying back. The sound of the impact exploded across the stadium as Lorisian slammed against the ring wall. Quintin twisted his foot on the ground, noticing that Lorisian still refused to fall. The knight brandished his sword, it sparkled under the ring's lights. Under his mask, Lorisian bit hard into his lips. Blood started to form as he fought the pain that assailed him.

Lorisian: Thou art quite dangerous, little nephew. Allow me to showeth thee the hon'r of a knight!

Quintin: Can you shut the fuck up already?! I don't give a shit about your damn knighthood! When are you going to get that?

Lorisian raised his sword to lay right beside his helmet. He broke out into a charge, Quintin knowing what to do. His legs sparked as he aimed at the knight once more. With a loud "clang," the sword and Quintin's right leg collided. They both held their ground until Lorisian's sword began to slide back. This sudden motion had both of the fighters tense up. Lorisian brought back his sword, Quintin pulling his leg back into a crane stance. The next moment, their metallic weapons began to clash. Sparks flew as Quintin's leg and Lorisian's sword flew through the air.

Zachary: Now this is one hell of a sight!

Zenzo: Never would I think I'd see the day where you'd be able to kick the sharp end of a blade! But these two just made that a reality!

Zachary: In the previous round, a leg meeting a sword was nigh career ending! But here it's a true spectacle!

Quintin kicked away the knight's sword, aiming for a follow-up to the head. Lorisian ducked below the following kick, bringing his sword back for the following slash. Vents opened on Quintin's legs, pushing him away from the slash. The moment the sword missed, the vents would push him forward once more. Their movements become more and more refined as their exchanges continue. No one could truly understand the sight before them. If they had tried to explain this to someone who wasn't there, it would sound like they were describing the scene from a comic book. The idea of powerful knights and advanced cybernetics was one of dreams, yet these two made that a reality.

Doctor A tapped on her clipboard. The door behind her creaked open as a man slipped inside. He moved closer and closer before Doctor A's arm moved back and grabbed him by the throat. The man wore a nervous smile, watching Doctor A's sleeve fall to reveal a cybernetic arm.

Doctor A: I thought I made it clear I don't like surprise visitors, Bodin.

The Arachna's personal Doctrine, Bodin, tapped on Doctor A's arm. Her grasp released, allowing Bodin to breathe once more.

Bodin: I just knew… hac… that that work was yours.

Doctor A: No one else other than me can make cybernetics at that level.

Bodin: A single person, nah. I have heard of a corporation that has delved into it.

Doctor A: Why are you here other than to bug me?

Bodin: Well, I was interested in if this is all those legs can do. Sure they're impressive, but this seems below you.

Doctor A: Oh trust me, you haven't seen anything yet.

Quintin's legs started to form electricity around them as the low blue lights turned an energetic pink. A roundhouse heel connected with Lorisian's side, sending the knight flying before he had time to react. The audience looked in shock as, for the first time in this match, Lorisian was sprawled across the ground.

Quintin's thoughts: I'm kicking it into Overdrive.

Quintin took a fighting stance native to Yaw-Yan practitioners. A smile finally returned to his face.