Chapter 4: It’s Time For A Death Battle
*External POV*
Cedric looked down at Sylvia. She was still clutching onto life, but just barely. No matter, not that she would survive today's events. Looking around, Cedric found Navajo surrounded by a group of revolting slaves. "No rest for the wicked huh" Cedric thought to himself.
Rushing to protect his charge, Cedric danced through the chaos, dissecting and bisecting a few slaves on the way. Their bodies falling one after another like a slow motion scene in a Mistralian action movie. Looking back at his (*cough* *cough*) masterpiece, Cedric couldn't help but think to himself. "As if these normals could ever beat a huntsman. They should have learned their place and stayed there."
Reaching the little boss, he mechashifted his beloved obsidian reaver into its lever action rifle form and shot a few slaves that were about to hit the little boss. Walking up to him with his usual swagger, Cedric checked in on Navajo.
"Hey, boss. You seem to be doing fine."
"BlackStar, now is not the time for your jokes. We need to get to the bullhead."
"Alright, alright. Let's go."
As they turned around, the duo found themselves surrounded by revolting slaves pointing their weapons at them, the other auction goers and their protectors had already been defeated and were laying on the ground unconscious in various positions. Navajo gritted his teeth, cursing at his inattentiveness of the situation, while Cedric whistled in a slightly impressed tone. The lead rebel, the same cat faunus that initially demanded the auction goers to surrender, called out to them.
"See kid, you couldn't beat us. I'll repeat myself. Surrender now, there's no other recourse."
"There is no way in the brothers' name we're doing that." Navajo replied.
"Like I said before, you ain't got much of a choice. Look around you."
"And look at your huntress." Cedric quipped back.
True to form, the rebel slaves turned to look at Sylvia, who was currently being attended to by 2 other rebels and an ak-130. Immediately, the room's atmosphere turned about 5 degrees colder. Realisation that the person with the scythe had eliminated their best fighter, if the wound said anything, dawned on their faces. The mindset that huntsmen were always superior to regular people was certainly a convenient and useful one right now.
Navajo put on a dark smile, and seized the opportunity given to him.
"I'm sure you can see that BlackStar here is highly skilled. Enough to defeat your best combatant. Surely letting us go is an easy decision?"
The lead rebel slave turned to Navajo and replied. "Well, we still have you surrounded, it can't be that hard to defeat you when there's bullets flying in all directions."
Navajo was quick to point out something the elder rebel had missed. "Ah, but how much damage would you sustain before finally putting him down? Not to mention casualties from friendly fire." The grit of the rebel's teeth was all Navajo needed to know he had the upper hand.
"I propose a duel." Navajo offered. "A 1 on 1 melee fight between my warrior and a champion of your choosing. Should you win, you may capture us without complaint. But if we emerge victorious, we may leave undisturbed. That way, you do not have to risk as many lives trying to stop us. A fair deal, no?"
The elder rebel slave had a look of contemplation on his face, torn between justice and the safety of his compatriots. Navajo always enjoyed looking at the faces people made in these kinds of situations, the dilemma tearing them apart as they picked their poison.
The elder rebel was knocked out of his decision making when the AK-130 who was previously attending to the huntress placed its hand on his shoulder. The elder rebel turned to look at the machine, his eyes clearly displaying his surprise. "Boss? You're…" The robot merely gave a nod in affirmation, before turning to Navajo and Cedric.
'Wait, why did that rebel call the Ak-130 boss? Could it be that there's a bigger outside interference than I thought?' Navajo asked himself, picking up on the rebel slave's choice of words.
The Ak-130 took one last look at the huntress and turned back to face Cedric, himself readying for a fight. Before Cedric left, Navajo quickly whispered to him. "There seems to be something larger than I thought going on here. Keep your guard up." Cedric simply turned around and gave him his trademark smirk of confidence.
And now the combatants are set, and it's time for a death battle.
*SI POV*
Sigh…
This was my fault.
I should have given Sylvia more fighters to help her, or maybe come up with a better plan. At least then she wouldn't be like this.
Would she? I don't know how powerful that huntsman is, for all I know, he could just be a novice with good equipment. Still, I could have planned better for this. I may have had lots of happy accidents in my old life, but there were also a lot of unfortunate ones.
Welp, no time to wallow in thinking, I've got a fight to win.
Both of us stepped into the impromptu arena, my visor glaring at his eyes. The huntsman entered a ready stance with his scythe. I transformed my hands into swords. We circled around each other, looking for an opening.
Not yet, Not yet…
Now!
I seized the initiative and swung my left sword arm at the huntsman with a diagonal upwards cut. The huntsman simply back stepped away. I responded by launching a stab with my right, following it up with a slash immediately afterward. Then, I made another stab with my left sword, bringing myself back to a ready position and completing the combo.
Huh, who would have thought those times I spent training how to dual wield for fun came in handy.
The huntsman had a look of amusement on his face, having dodged all of my attacks. Now, he began his counterattack. He swung his scythe at me, forcing me to back off. He then geared up for a big attack, opening his centre. I saw this, and quickly moved to strike.
A mistake.
The huntsman jumped back and swung the scythe, putting me in its sharp path. I quickly rolled to the side, transforming my sword back into an arm to catch myself. I silently cursed myself for falling into his feint.
Well, If offence is not working, maybe it's time to try defence. I transformed my right sword back into a hand, and changed to a more defensive stance. The huntsman tilted his head at me in response, probably wondering what the heck I was doing.
He curved the scythe around me, attempting to hit my back. In response, I pivoted on my left foot and grabbed the scythe, following it up with a slash from my right sword.
Before I could continue, the huntsman suddenly poofed into a cloud of smoke and I found myself being launched backwards. My internal systems screamed damage reports at me. It's all minor, but they occurred everywhere the smoke phased through my body.
Ok, timeout. What the hell is this Reaper knock off bullshit? I didn't see him use this at all, and last I checked, Reaper's smoke cloud wasn't corrosive. Now that I think about it, this guy could probably pass off as a half brother to Ruby, if Summer was the mom and Reaper was the dad.
*In Vale, at the exact time this is happening*
Ruby walked out of her favourite snack store, clutching her prized possession. A limited edition Valean cookie, only one available in every 1000 cookie packets made. And she could not wait to savour it. She opened her mouth, ready to take her first bite.
"AH-CHOOO!"
The cookie was sent flying out of her hands in the direction of the road. Ruby watched in pure horror as her precious, round treat fell to the asphalt ground and shattered into chunks with a loud crack. Her tear ducts threatened to leak.
And just as she thought the nightmare was over, a car, moving at a speed of questionable legality, ran over the remnants of the cookie and ground it to powder and dust. That, for the little red hooded reaper, was the last straw.
Suffice to say, Yang's gonna have to cut her bar time short to comfort her.
*Back to the fight, SI POV*
Heh, that's pretty fun- whoa!
I dodged another swing of the huntsman's scythe. Clearly, he wasn't gonna let me think about funny stuff in the middle of a fight. Fair enough I suppose. Anyways, I launched another combo of attacks, only to be countered.
Slash, stab, block, stab, dodge, parry…
This endless cycle of attack and defence kept on going between us, neither side having a clear advantage. Except for the huntsman and his bullshit semblance, that is. It's only able to do minor damage each time he uses it, but I don't have any counter at all. The way this is going, he'll whistle me down by attrition. I need a plan soon, or I'll be scrap metal. But what can I do? He's got me beat in the semblance department, and we're evenly matched in everything else. At this rate, I'll really be dead meat(metal?). Oh wait a minute… Yeah, that could work. It's a one use only, but if I pull it off just right, I might just win this. Hopefully, Remnant doesn't have an equivalent of the Geneva Chec- I mean Conventions.
*External POV*
Cedric was growing annoyed. This AK-130 was clearly better than he thought. Maybe his skills were getting rusty? No matter, he was going to end this now. He activated his semblance one last time and rushed the robot. This time, he made sure to phase through it several times, causing as much damage as he could. Finally, after the 15th pass, Cedric phased back into his body and observed the damage done. The damned robot seemed to finally be out for the count. It staggered its way towards him, wildly swinging its sword-arm. FInally, as it fell down, it reached out with its right arm, and unceremoniously landed with a thud. Its head and torso lights faded off. Cedric took 2 steps closer and prodded it with his scythe. No movement. Letting off a sigh of relief, Cedric finally relaxed his aura.
"Hmph, as if a mere bucket of bolts could defeat a huntsman. Damn thing should know its place." Cedric thought to himself. Idly, he wondered who programmed it to not acknowledge those who are superior. But then again, AKs don't have self preservation instincts. He surveyed the crowd, who were staring with various faces. From shock to despair to just acceptance, there was a full spectrum of intensity here. Cedric looked back to Navajo, who had a blank look on his face, fully expecting this outcome. Navajo stepped forward and addressed the crowd. "As you can see, your champion lies defeated. Now, we will pass, and you will do nothing to stop us." The rebel slaves just stood there, unwilling to comply yet unable to stop them. "This is the way of the world," Cedric monologued internally. "Huntsmen stand above these nor-huh?"
Cedric felt something grab on to his foot. Before he could react, a blade struck his leg. Cedric howled, the pain of his leg being severed overwhelming him. Navajo jumped back, caught unaware of what happened, the rebel slaves displaying similar reactions. Cedric dropped his scythe, causing it to fall on the AK-130, which as it turned out, was not as dead as everyone thought it was. The scythe slashed its left arm off, but it didn't matter. Cedric was sprawling on the ground, unable to do much else due to, well, a lack of support to stand on. The AK-130 stood up, seemingly more menacing than before. It glared at Cedric and grabbed it by the throat, lifting him up. It's head moved as if it was laughing at its victory. Cedric coughed up blood, only muster up enough breath to say his last 12 words. "How? I'm a huntsman. I'm better than you. YOU HAVE NO SOUL!" Staring back, the AK-130 gave a simple cold reply.
"That is why I have no fear."
A snap rang out from Cedric's neck, and his body went limp.