8 The Unknown Warrior and The Mysterious Swordsman! - Chapter 8
As Gojo's audacious claim hangs in the air, Zhongli's stoic expression wavers for a moment.
Altering contracts, something he believed to be unchangeable, sparks a flicker of contemplation in the Geo Archon's eyes.
(Zhongli): His gaze, usually composed and steady, flickers with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. "Removing the contracts that bind me? Such a thing has never been spoken of. How can one even fathom altering sacred agreements?" Zhongli's voice carries a weight of both skepticism and a hidden glimmer of hope.
(Mizu as Gojo): Gojo, with his trademark nonchalant demeanor, leans back, crossing his arms. "Well, Zhongli, divine contracts or not, everything has its loopholes. The question is, are you willing to break them?" His turquoise eyes, hidden behind a blindfold, seem to gleam with a mischievous spark.
(Zhongli): The Geo Archon, torn between the duty he upholds and the prospect of newfound possibilities, takes a moment to reflect. "Loopholes or not, the divine contracts are a binding force. However, I must admit, the prospect is intriguing. What do you propose, Satoru Gojo?"
(Mizu as Gojo): "I've encountered various contracts in my travels, Zhongli. Breaking them is easy for me. Of course, it'll require a mutual agreement and a certain level of trust."
(Zhongli): "Trust is a precious commodity, especially when dealing with matters of divine significance. What assurance do I have that this proposal of yours isn't a mere illusion or deception?"
(Mizu as Gojo): A sly grin forms on Gojo's face. "You've got those piercing eyes, Zhongli. Trust me, if I wanted to deceive you, I wouldn't have revealed my knowledge about your Memory of Dust or offered to help. We both have something to gain from this."
(Zhongli): His gaze, usually composed and steady, flickers with a mix of gratitude, skepticism, and a subtle undercurrent of longing for freedom. "The prospect is indeed intriguing, and I appreciate the offer you present. However, the divine agreements are sacred, and I, as the Geo Archon, must uphold them." A hint of sincere acknowledgment softens his usually stoic expression.
(Mizu as Gojo): Gojo, with his trademark nonchalant demeanor, leans back, crossing his arms. "Well, Zhongli, everyone's got their limits. I respect that. If you ever decide you want a change, you know where to find me." He nodded, reflect an understanding of Zhongli's internal conflict and a willingness to provide a path for change.
(Zhongli): The Geo Archon, feeling a sense of gratitude for the unexpected proposition, nods in acknowledgment. "Indeed, Satoru Gojo. Your offer is deeply appreciated. It'll be a reminder for me that even an Archon may find solace in the idea of freedom." He speaks with a genuine tone, expressing thanks for the unconventional possibility brought forth by Gojo.
(Mizu as Gojo): Gojo chuckles. "Fair enough, Zhongli. If the time ever comes when you're ready to embrace change, I'll be around. Until then, may your contracts remain unbroken, and may your path be filled with whatever brings you peace within your divine responsibilities."
Gojo rises from his seated position, preparing to take his leave. However, before he walks away, he turns to Zhongli with a casual yet intriguing question.
(Mizu as Gojo): Gojo, standing tall, casually asks, "By the way, Zhongli, do you happen to know who Uchiha Madara is?"
MEANWHILE, IN SUMERU...
A figure adorned in crimson armor, embellished with numerous metal plates forming protective guards, strides purposefully.
This formidable presence is none other than Uchiha Madara, and I was taking control of Madara's actions, navigating the landscapes of the place.
Adorning his back is the distinctive Gunbai, a shield-like weapon with a black border, few red tomoes, and a chain connecting to his Kama, a scythe.
Despite his imposing appearance, Madara peacefully strolls through the Grand Bazaar in Sumeru.
As Madara leisurely walks through the Grand Bazaar of Sumeru, the locals keep their distance, perhaps intimidated by his imposing appearance and the weapon strapped to his back.
Despite the bustling activity around him, people seem hesitant to engage with him.
They attempted to use Akasha terminals to uncover his identity. However, their efforts yield no results. There's no known records in the vast knowledge repositories of Sumeru.
As Madara walking around the Grand Bazaar, the whispers and speculations about him spread like wildfire.
People from all walks of life gathered to catch a glimpse of this strange figure, hoping to uncover the truth behind his identity.
Meanwhile, Madara seemed unfazed by the attention he garnered. He went about his business with an air of quiet confidence, never divulging anything about his background or purpose in Sumeru.
His calm and composed demeanor only added to the air of mystery that surrounded him.
Whispers circulate among the locals, speculating that Madara might be a traveler, new to the city and its intellectual hub.
The air of mystery surrounding the stranger, Uchiha Madara, did little to deter the blue-eyed curiosity of Nilou.
Her approach was straightforward, her demeanor embodying a bright charm accompanied by an infectious smile.
Despite the whispers and wary glances of the crowd, Nilou's innocence and genuine intrigue formed a bubble around her that fear could not penetrate.
(Nilou) : "Hello, traveller!" She called out with sincerity that's as naturally to her as breathing. "Your face is one I haven't seen. May I know your name and where are you from?"
(Uchiha Madara) : "I am known as Uchiha Madara. Just call me Madara. I'm from Natlan," he replied, his voice seemed to carry the echoes of distant thunder.
(Nilou) : "Uchiha Madara," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue as she committed it to memory, "That's a name that doesn't tell me much, but I hope it comes with stories just waiting to be shared!"
(Uchiha Madara) : Her laughter was light, and it drew a rare, subtle smile from him. "But not all are meant for gentle ears."
(Nilou) : She tilted her head. "Oh, I believe that ears are less gentle than hearts, and hearts can be strong. Besides, a good story adds flavor to life here, as does a new friend."
Okay, I hadn't expected to encounter someone so disarmingly kind. But there Nilou was, exuding a gentleness that seemed nearly out of place in the rugged terrain of this encounter!
It was her demeanor, unexpectedly caring and tender, that caught me off guard, the soft contours of kindness framing her every action, every smile.
She wasn't just being polite; she was genuinely considerate and heartfelt in a way that stirred my heart!
Her offer was simple, yet it carried the weight of an unspoken promise: you don't have to wander alone.
Why was she so caring? Why did her soft-hearted nature draw me in like the bloom of a rare desert flower amidst sun-scorched sands?
Ehem- Thankfully, I managed to keep myself calm down. Nilou truly is a gentle person! But lorewise, Xiangling is the only one who doesn't have any sad stories.
(Nilou) : She looked at Madara with eyes full of wonder and a hint of concern. "So, what brings you here?" She asked, her voice light and friendly.
(Uchiha Madara) : Madara's eyes, always so used to the sight of conflict, softened a bit when he responded. "Fresh air," He answered, the phrase falling like weary soldiers laying down their arms. "In Natlan, the air is thick—not just with the heat, but with the weight of unending conflict. I'm tired, not just in body, but in spirit."
Nilou's eyes shimmered with a touch of sadness for Madara's pain, but her spirit remained undimmed. In him, she saw not just a traveller, but a soul seeking peace.
(Nilou) : She leaned in, her voice carrying the warmth of a comforting embrace. "Hey, look on the bright side," she chimed with a hopeful grin. "You're here now, far from the heat and noise. This place," she gestured around, "is a good place for seeking knowledge in silence. I'll bet Natlan doesn't have the tranquil gardens or the ancient libraries we have! While you're here, why not enjoy them?" Her laughter was like a gentle melody, an invitation for Madara to set aside his burdens, if only for a moment, and share a lighter side of life with her, one that wasn't shadowed by the gloom of constant battle.
Nilou offered not just solace but a spark—perhaps enough to ignite a little hope in his war-weary heart.
(Uchiha Madara) : Madara's lips curved into a grateful, albeit weary, smile. "Thank you, Nilou," he said softly. The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease as he took in Nilou's sincerity. "You're right. The present has its own value, and the future... It can wait its turn."
(Uchiha Madara) : He straightened his back, letting her infectious optimism seep into him. "For now, I think I'd like walk around see what Sumeru can offer," he continued, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, a rare indulgence for someone used to suppressing such carefree expressions.
(Nilou) : "That's the spirit!" Nilou exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Come on, I know just where to start!"
Nilou started to take the lead, her steps as light and carefree as the fluttering leaves around them.
Madara followed with softened footsteps, his usual caution momentarily set aside.
(Mizu) : The tranquility of the place seeped into me as Madara. 'Peace,' I thought, my eyes tracing the horizon, 'is a rare guest in Madara's life.'
Together, they journeyed, allowing himself to be led by Nilou's cheerful presence into the peaceful now that Sumeru offered.
Nahida's Point of View...
In the quiet hush of the Sanctuary of Surasthana, Nahida was lost in slumber. For much of her 500-some years, she had known the touch of the barrier around her more than warm sunlight or soft grass.
But in dreams, she was free. Dreams were her secret escapes, places where the chains of the Grand Sages' couldn't bind her.
And that time, she was dreaming about some strange trio: one clad in crimson, as if armored in the very fire of resolve, the other, small floating fairy with white hair, and a blonde girl, radiant as the dawn.
They were her saviors, vague and clouded in mist, yet valiant and kind. In her dreams, they shattered her confinement, saving her.
Though their faces remained shrouded in the mists of her imagination and mystery, to Nahida, they were the tiny, flicker of hope—the promise that her shackled existence was not her eternal fate.
Then, Nahida suddenly woke up, a single tear tracing her cheek—a silent testament to the longing in her heart.
She awoke to the same silent barrier, to the same confines of her imprisonment, yet within her flickered a stubborn ember of hope, wishing, praying for the day that hope would blaze forth into reality.
(Nahida) : Nahida's saddened voice, soft yet unwavering, mingled with the still air. "Whoever you are, I'll wait for your arrival," she said, with a thread of hope.
Nahida clung to this dream, this frail thread of a chance, that one day she wouldn't just dream of freedom—she'd live it.
MEANWHILE, IN INAZUMA...
(Soldier 1) : A soldier's frantic footsteps unease the calm. The soldier came before Gorou, "General!", he gasped. The curiosity within Gorou's gaze sharpened, bracing for the news.
(Gorou) : "What's happening?" Gorou pressed, his voice was steady and xalm.
(Soldier 1) : With heaving breaths, the soldier explained: "There's a man—thick black eyebrows, black eyes, messy black hair that ties into a knot behind." Each descriptor carried the weight of unease. His final words hung between them like a sword unsheathed, "He is slowly walking towards our base. He is also carrying two Katanas on his waist and he has Pyro Vision."
In these sparse words, Gorou immediately signalled the soldier to turn on the emergency alarm bell, letting the soldiers in the camp know that there's an approaching unknown person.
Gorou, the half-human, half-canine general with Geo Vision, felt the grip of caution tighten its hold. He perked up his ears.
It wasn't every day someone just strolled into their zone, especially having a Pyro Vision and two Katanas like he was itching for trouble. With his tail at attention, Gorou bolted from his tent to check out the scene.
Everyone went into their position, talking about the new face that was slowly walking towards their base—a guy with not one, but two Katanas strapped to his belt. It wasn't just gossip to these folks, those swords meant business.
The mysterious traveller with two katanas abruptly stopped walking, capturing the group's attention with his sudden stillness.
(Musashi) : Turning to face them, his introduction cut through the quiet murmurings of the camp. "Name's Musashi Miyamoto," he stated, his voice steady and clear. There was a raw edge of determination in Musashi's tone as he continued, his gaze sweeping over those gathered. "I'm tired of innocents getting their life taken away. I've heard about your fight against the Vision Hunt Decree. I am in," he announced, his words ringing with a sincerity that left little room for doubt.
It was clear he wasn't just looking for a cause; he was offering his blades and his resolve to the struggle.
Gorou and his soldiers were surprised by his declaration. Was this for real? This swordsman wanted to stand with them, against the Shogun's oppressive decree?
(Gorou) : Gorou eyed Musashi with a mix of interest and suspicion, his brow furrowed in thought. He stepped forward, "You just show up out of nowhere, swords and all, wanting to join the fight?" Gorou asked, his voice edged with caution. "How do we know you're not a spy sent by the Shogun herself?"
It was a fair question, the kind that needed asking when strangers wandered into camp offering their help.
Trust didn't come easy when the stakes were high, and Gorou's stance made it clear that trust had to be earned, especially in the midst of their rebellion.
Musashi stood calm and collected as the atmosphere tensed around him. Quietly, he raised his index finger to the gathering clouds above.
Moments later, a sharp bolt of purple lightning surged toward him—an attempt by the Raiden Shogun to strike him down.
With a precise, fluid movement, he deflected the bolt, channeling it away from himself and into the ground, where it left nothing but a scorched mark and a faint sizzle in the air.
(Musashi) : Lowering his sword, Musashi turned to face Gorou, his steady gaze meeting the general's widened eyes. "Even the Raiden Shogun herself has marked me for death," he said, his voice resonating with a deep, undeniable sincerity. "That is the trust I offer you."
The Vision bearers were known for their exceptional abilities, standing head and shoulders above those who lacked such gifts. Yet here stood Musashi, a stranger who had achieved the unthinkable.
Lightning, a force that has a speed that defied comprehension—speed that was the very definition of untouchable—had been repelled.
To deflect such a force was not merely impressive; it was a feat that bordered on the incredible.
He had not only shown that he was beyond a common Vision bearer; he had displayed a power that was 'way too strong,' one that, perhaps, could challenge even the might of the Almighty Raiden Shogun and her Musou no Hitotachi.
