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Forsake Your Humanity

A strange twist of events leads Gray to realize that playing by the rules wouldn't help him achieve what he desires. That's why he sought out a darker side of the city, the Underworld. Will he remain true to himself in the midst of such vindictive people?

Daniel_Thorne · ファンタジー
レビュー数が足りません
107 Chs

Clamor, Part 3

"Are they going to be alright?" I inquired, staring at the grimacing barbarian as he circled around Lucas with a scowl, like a wolf hunting its prey. In one of his coarse hands, he held a magnificent axe—also known as the Beauty. He merely extended and contracted the fingers of the other hand, warming them up for what was about to happen. Logan would frequently launch compelling punches, parry attacks, or grab his opponent, only using Beauty to deliver the finishing blow if the situation required it. Otherwise, he'd simply use his overwhelming physique to immobilize his victim, ahem, I mean foe.

His daunting appearance didn't make things any better for the young man, though. That much was obvious from the sweat on his brow and stiff posture. No, perhaps my initial assumption was incorrect. Although spearman-ship wasn't my forte, Lucas was clearly in an adequate stance.

"They'll be fine," Edward's words echoed came from the other side of the room. He's been quiet as of late, but that wasn't really unusual in and of itself. That's just his personality. "Logan may be a brute, but even he wouldn't go all out against a new-hatched chick."

"I heard you, four-eyes," he retorted.

"I know you did."

Apparently, Eddie—even though he knows being called like that—wanted Logan to hear that insult. What a lovely camaraderie they have. Yet I'd never wish for something similar myself. No, come to think of it, I already have something identical to a pair of eccentric siblings, don't I?

"Just start doing something already!" yelled the woman beside me, startling me away from my not-so-important thoughts. "You're boring!"

"Why are you in so much of a hurry?" I blundered.

"It's because I want us to join in the fun as soon as possible. Who knows when, or if, we'll ever get the chance to do something like this ever again."

"That's an ominous thing to say, don't you think so?"

Mara's response was quite mortifying actually. It was strange how could she be so upbeat while simultaneously being aware of the constant and subtle threat lingering over our lives. Even though she wasn't in this line of work as long as Ava and that behemoth, it was unusual to hear her talk about our lives so casually.

"Guard up, Lucas," warned Logan as he finally stepped in, only for his eyes to widen slightly as the covered tip of the spear shot toward his neck, similar to how a snake would dig its fangs. He only twisted his head to the side, narrowly avoiding it only due to his honed reflexes and keen instinct.

I thought he was nervous at first, but it turns out my concerns were unwarranted. Lucas took a step back immediately after his stab, keeping a reasonable breathing distance whilst taking into account Logan's long limbs and the length of his axe. Something challenging to consider in an actual fight. I couldn't help but wonder whether Lucas received some professional training. Otherwise, it would've been difficult for someone who I didn't regard as an adult—despite the mercenary license he had, which confirmed he actually was.

"Using a spear is very straightforward," Mara complained as she uncrossed her arms and took a step in front of me. "Let's see..."

"How so?" I questioned as she bent her knees, eyes glued onto the beast tamer.

"Oh," I muttered, realizing she took a stance similar to Lucas, thrusting an envisaged spear as she uttered: "All you have to do is wait for your opponent to show an opening and thrust forward. Not too difficult, but strangely effective against monsters."

"Do you think he's been trained by someone then?" I had to ask, still taken aback by the firmness he was displaying as he mimicked Logan's steps, waiting for an opening. No, it was the fact that he knew how to fight that surprised me. I never thought of him as much of a fighter.

Lucas's way of fighting was completely different from Harold's, though, who was the only other person I saw wielding a spear. It was calmer and more deliberate in comparison to the wild swings the Maxwell took during the simulation a while back, who heavily relied on his natural gifts as a hunter.

"Probably. But then again, you never received any formal training, Gray," Mara shrugged, resuming her initial position beside me. "Consider all the things you're capable of. Climbing on buildings, fighting, and endurance far above the average, just to name a few. Maybe the answer in Lucas's case is just raw talent."

"Could be..."

I didn't want to discredit any of his efforts by claiming that he grew up in a better environment than mine. Everything he had was the result of his own efforts, and I couldn't take that away from him. Regardless of talent, Logan was still an experienced mercenary endowed with a natural power others couldn't possibly look down upon.

He stepped in, this time prepared to receive Lucas' spear. Compared to the previous time, however, he only grabbed its handle and rose it upwards, relying on brute strength rather than anything else.

"Whoa—" burst out of Lucas' throat as he felt the vast disparity in strength. Once he realized his weapon was rendered useless, he tried to let go of it and create some distance. Wise choice, but the barbarian's reach was far longer than his, and he'd been anticipating something like that to happen. Or so I assumed as he discarded the spear he just stole too, which let out a few thunks as it collided with the ground.

Before Lucas even knew it, he felt an unshakable hold on his collar. Then, in an instant, he found himself admiring the tangled vines and tattered cables drenched by the sunlight looming from the ceiling. Something eventually reached his neck. It was the axe's handle, which Logan pressed gently on his jugular.

"It's my defeat," Lucas muttered, raising his hands as though he was arrested and sighing as he leaned on his back, relishing the cold of the ground.

Compared to the flashy bouts hunters often had on television, our battles were a little bit faster and less colorful. Just one error could result in your own death. It wasn't as if Lucas made any blunders worth mentioning. He knows the basics down to a tee, used a sound strategy against a tougher opponent, and nearly dealt a winning blow by catching him off-guard, but ultimately lost. For those reasons, the realist aspect of sparring between mercenaries was even more captivating, personally. In comparison to a hunter's innate ability to wield mana, it took skill, hard work, and guts to win.

"You did well," Logan congratulated him, lending the beast tamer his palm so he could stand up. "Did someone teach you how to fight?"

"My parents," he replied, brushing the dust off himself after taking his spear. "They were mercenaries."

An eerie stillness took a hold of us as he referred to them in the past tense. That also explained how he came to know of the Underworld's existence. If his parents were connected through any means to that place, then there was a good chance they had a badge that'll allow them access at the many entrances that lead to the world beneath the surface. Therefore, if I may leap to a conclusion, they must also be related to how Lucas met Melody.

That wasn't any of my business, though. I already gave my word that I wouldn't reveal Melody's existence. I had no intention of prying any farther into his life than I already had.

"Cheer up," Logan slapped his back, bending his entire body forward. Learn to control your strength, you barbarian, I wanted to complain. You almost broke the poor boy's colon. "You lasted more than 10 seconds against the Hawk. You should be proud of yourself, Lucas."

"'The Hawk'?" Lucas repeated.

"Yeah," Mara said, stepping up to them with an odd twitch on her face, as though she didn't know how she was supposed to put in nicely. "That's his pet name—"

"Hey! That's my title!" Logan retorted.

"Whatever! Your self-given title is the Hawk. Our party's name—is the Hawkes. And guess what! Your family name? It's Hawks!" she hissed, not caring much about the gravity of the insult she maliciously hurled at his bearded face. "You simply switched the letters a bit to appear a little more interesting, that's all! It's obvious you had no idea what you were doing when you came up with those names."

"How dare you make fun of my name?!" the Hawk growled as he rose the axe higher. The portion where the metallic edge peeked out through the fabric it was covered by reflected a ray of light directly into my eyes, compelling me to squint and look the other way. Noticing that, Lucas only chuckled as he threw his empty rucksack down and took a seat beside me. Thank you so much, Logan. How would I be able to see without you? I wanted to roll my eyes and shout at the top of my lungs, but I'd rather not complain about anything now. Who'd want to be the target in this mess? Definitely not me. "Do you want me to split your head open with the Beauty?"

"Oh, shut it," she spat back, slamming her sheathed blade against her palm like a club. "I'll shove this scabbard so far up your ass you'll feel it in your spine."

"The mouth on this woman," Edward whispered, clutching his temples in his hand and shaking his head. He's been dealing with those two ruffians for a lot longer than I have. Perhaps one day I might end up just like him. I silently expressed my sorrow to him.

"Do you think they'll be okay?"

"Uh-huh," I replied, happy that she had forgotten about me for the time being.

Everything will be fine as long as they don't wound up killing each other, that is.