Why One Fights

*oh boy, we're here. close to the sweet point again. Buckle up, cuz I plan to make the ride worth it. Let's just hope I can keep up :)). For now, take care. Peace out and Deus vult.*

Mark dashed towards Yanqing, his arm guiding the sword against other incoming blades. Floating from all sides, they came at him like eagles diving after their prey. Sparks flew around as Mark's strikes met each sword head-on, deflecting them with ease in his relentless chase. 

"Come on, is that all?" taunted Mark, grinning from ear to ear. There was one single way to properly handle someone who was about to go down the wrong path. 

Yanqing clenched his jaw, putting more power into his flying swords, ushering them like the wind, cutting through the air before reaching the man that stood before him. No strike managed to get close enough, for with one of his own swords, Mark was moving like he was born with it in hand. 

"Young one, stop hesitating. Go on and show him what you have learned. Do you wish to have a repeat of what happened here before?" said Apyra, slyly turning specific gears in the boy's mind. 

The memories of losing those times were something Yanqing struggled with. His ego had taken a huge blow, and in just a few days, he was left wondering if he'd ever be strong enough. Rather than waiting for a defeat to come once more, he stopped holding back, moving his swords around with all he had. The blades zipped through the air, fast enough to trick the human eye into thinking nothing's there. 

Mark's steps slowed down, from jogging to walking, but they didn't stop. No matter where the blades tried to come from, he'd always point his sword at them, letting steel meet steel in an intense rendezvous with death. Subtle traces of blue light streamed from behind, from above, the sides, striking even a few at once, with some attacks pouring all of them into a single, synchronized motion. Mark's energy kept flaring up, moving closer to the 25% mark as his speed picked up to match it. 

"Young one, let us show him all that you are capable of." 

Yanqing took a deep breath before running towards Mark, the flying swords obeying his every order, joining him like they were limbs he'd use on a daily. With ice-infused strikes, he came at Mark, his blade glowing dimly as it slashed from all angles, aiming to cut down whatever lay in its path. Spark flew and light danced along the swords as Mark stood in the center, grinning. 

"Fine, Yanqing, I guess I have to give you a lesson on why you should strive for your own power. It's time I teach you the same way I learned—witnessing powerful enemies one too many times." 

Mark's left hand was engulfed by ice with each second that came and went, shaping itself into a gauntlet. Just when Yanqing thought he had a window to attack with all swords at once, he spun with the ice-covered hand and slammed all the blades to the ground with flicks of his wrist. It was instant, and Yanqing was left face to face with Mark, who finally had time to fully focus on the offensive. 

"Be ready, boy," muttered Mark, his eyes burning with eagerness for the battle. Clashing swords like that was thrilling, keeping his blood going at insane rates, fueling his every cell. 

Yanqing could only try to follow the movements as Mark struck mercilessly, bringing his sword in from all sides with movements that were almost mechanical, performed instantly. It wasn't an issue of skill but rather an issue of lacking speed and strength. That's what held Mark down in the current moments, not only in this battle but in any other combat scenario. He was limited by his own body, yet he kept pushing forward. 

Countless strikes were exchanged, sparks and light exploding together with each movement. Yanqing tried to use his flying swords, but Mark made sure to stab them in the ground enough for them to not get out easily. It was just the two of them. 

"Come on, Yanqing, you have to keep pushing!" shouted Mark, feeling the strain on his own body. He was at 27% output, which was already dangerous grounds for his close to normal body. 

The boy kept his jaw clenched, trying his earnest to strike back to find an opening, but nothing showed up. It was like Mark wouldn't allow an opening to appear, and whichever space did seem to provide an opportunity was nothing more than a hoax, a trap laid out for whoever dared to take it. He handled the flow of battle. Still, the gauntleted arm worried Yanqing a bit. Just what was Mark's plan with it? 

"Keep your eyes on the weapon!" shouted Apyra, but it was too late. Mark spoke in a cold tone, his gauntleted arm grabbing Yanqing's sword, yanking it out of his hands. 

"Hesitation means defeat, Yanqing." 

With that, Mark poured his all into one last stab, aiming it right at the boy's head. Of course, he missed on purpose, but the shock from the blow left a gust of wind that simply brushed the skin on his neck. 

"This was all, Yanqing. You need to realize a few things. There are countless monsters out there, way stronger than myself. You have enough of those here on the Luofu. I was way weaker at first when I began my journey, to the point that most foes were pretty difficult for me. Still, I kept pushing forward, trying my best to make it work." 

Mark held on to the sword, offering it to Yanqing with the handle pointed at him. 

"You need to remember that you fight not for glory or fame, shallow reasons, but for the sake of protecting something, the sake of something dear to you that has meaning." 

Yanqing hesitantly took the sword, looking at Mark with silent contemplation. Apyra in the background was annoyed by the display, so he chose to simply dive into Mark's mind. 

"Mark!" shouted Stelle, rushing to his side. They were all watching the battle unfold, only to witness this at the moment. The last time a heliobus tried to enter his mind, things went south. 

"No worries, Stelle... it'll come out in a few moments," chuckled Mark, waiting. In not even three seconds, it was out, screaming and screeching for its life. 

"What even are you!? What is that in your mind?! That's pure insanity!" 

Without even trying, it ran away, probably to where Cirrus was residing. 

"That's this for that. Well, please excuse me, but I'm done with this issue. I don't need to interfere more, since I know you Ghost Hunting Squad have it all figured out." 

Mark beamed them all a smile, turning to Yanqing, who was deep in thought. 

"Hey, you better come show up for training. We have to get stronger, alright? We have things to protect, both of us." 

Mark took his leave, walking freely and unbothered. He passed by Huohuo, offering her a smile as he squatted by her side. He looked at her warmly, gently patting her head, ruffling her hair. 

"Huohuo, this is a bit of advice from a random guy. Never let yourself sink in thoughts that are bad. You are enough, you're strong enough to keep going, and there's always room for improvement without it causing trouble in the present. You're young, with time to learn and grow. Sometimes I forget that, so let's keep this as a reminder, alright?" 

She looked at him with a bit of an anxious gaze, somewhat baffled by the sudden contact, but she nodded, trying to stand up straighter. 

"Good, that's the spirit. Never falter, alright? You can do it. No one was born good at what they do. Just take your time to learn and explore. Also, never fear ghosts... if they were oh so truly scary, they wouldn't appear as things we can't touch through normal means. They're scared of us, not the other way around." 

He stood up, going on his own way. Those few words were something he had long since wanted to say. It's just a piece of advice from a random guy, something meaningless, but the value is in the impact left. An idea is planted, then it slowly takes root, and in time it blossoms. It was up to Huohuo to keep that idea and nurture it, which Mark was sure would happen at some point. 

He went on with his training for the few days that they would spend there, pushing his body to the upper limits, forcing it to adapt as he tore it movement after movement, using his all to simply reach a higher level. It was already absurd enough that his muscles were slowly being toned, kept at a level that allowed him to be agile and flexible. 

Just like that, before he even knew it, he was back in the Astral Express, everyone gathered in the parlor. 

"My, what sort of training did you take part in, Mark?" asked Himeko, taking note of the changes in his aspect. They weren't all that noticeable, but they were there. For his body to reach visible results in such a short time was close to impossible—for normal beings, that is. 

"Just the usual routine. Running, strength training, stuff like that. My secret ingredient is using all I have at my disposal. Anyway, I think we should be prepared for the jump, right?" 

She nodded, and everyone waited for Pom-Pom to come into the scene. He was a bit late, prepared with a few announcements about where they were heading. Penacony, planet of festivities located in Asdana, a star system brimming with memoria. He wished to warn them about side effects of the memoria, such as altered memories, dizziness, and other possible aflictions. 

Next was simply a request to be careful and adhere to the regulations, and last was a personal request of his. He was curious about some of the Nameless. 

"What Nameless?" asked Stelle, looking at the others with curiosity. 

Mark simply stood to the side, listening to Himeko explain the situation. It was a bitter pillow to swallow, thinking that you spend time with someone only to never see them again. In Mark's eyes, Pom-Pom had the saddest story. He must have met so many people who became his family, only for them all to simply fade out of his life. 

It was three people who had left: Tiernan, Legwork, and Razalina. They had been the Express' guard, mechanic, and surveyor. The names made Mark's mind rattle, the headache getting stronger. He didn't show it, but he simply chose to remain fully silent as he wiped his nose. 

"Just names and occupations? And they don't even sound like their real names either... This will be like looking for a needle in a haystack," complained March, thinking the task impossible. 

Mark just stood to the side, thinking about it. He did think about one specific thing that he forgot to take into account. 

"Wait, let's put that all on hold... I joined the Express late... way later than others, so... how is the reservation going?" 

Himeko looked at him, realizing that he was right. 

"You're right. I think we'll have to check in at the hotel then. If it's wrong, I'm afraid..." 

Mark nodded, understanding the implications. He might not have a spot there, which wasn't all that bad—or at least that's what he told himself. Same as usual, some things just never change. 

"It's fine, no worries. I'm aware of the situation. It's no biggie. I could focus more on my training. Plus, I don't think there's something that bad incoming over there." 

He did say the truth. Somehow, his senses weren't worried or anxious like the Xianzhou. When death was imminent, he'd feel his stomach churn, but now it was eerily silent. Even the shadows had receded a little over the course of the last few days. Still, even in that sea of calmness, there was a tinge of sadness buried inside. He felt... odd about it, like a silent acceptance of something that was meant to happen that way. 

He shook his head a little, snapping out of it. Dwelling too much on some details always ended up with him lost in something worse. 

"Yeah, anyway, let's get ready for the jump, right? We still have a little bit of time, so make sure to check your bags, people." 

He walked over to pour himself a cup of coffee, sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, sipping on it as he relaxed.