59 Result

The speed my new technique granted me was both a blessing and a curse and for similar reasons. Things happened, strangely, both more quickly and more slowly, in several different ways. On the Brightside, obviously, I attacked and moved much faster then I'd ever dreamed of doing, exchanging hundreds of blows, doing attacks that would have been too quick to see before, shifting through the chaos with an easy grace. Despite that speed, everything seemed slowed down to my eyes and mind, allowing me to think about, plan for, and react to things I might otherwise barely have noticed. All of that was tremendously useful and were literally lifesavers.

On the other hand, attacking five times faster meant spending energy five times faster, too. Even with my greater speed and attack power, truly matching or pushing back Penny required drawing on my other skills as well—Lunging at great speeds to close or create distance, Power Strike to strengthen my blows, using my Elementals to assist me in subtle ways, and much more. In fact, it was even worse than that, because of Double Strike, which effectively allowed me to hit twice with a single blow, but with each blow needing to be enhanced individually. The base damage of each hit was lower than a normal attack, but still high enough to make it advantageous, especially when I was leveling it up so quickly—none of which changed the fact that it drained MP like a sieve.

My entire strategy was enabled by my situation—on easy access to an effectively endless supply of restorative items. Any chance I had of victory was founded entirely on the fact that I was able to cheat like a son of a bitch, giving myself effectively infinite HP and MP so long as I didn't run out of items, didn't let my MP hit zero, and wasn't taken out by a single blow or quick series of hits. Without that, without the removed concern of how much damage I could take or power I could spend, I would have lost this fight very, very quickly. If I had been using solely my own power, I think I would have run myself dry in about a minute. Maybe less, possibly a bit more.

I hit fast but tired fast, as was normal with all of Bai Hu's techniques. As it was, I needed to restore myself every twenty to thirty seconds and occasionally turn off my Aura to tank blows physically just to keep myself going. Things went fast and so did my power.

But they also happened painfully slowly. They had before, of course, as I'd known they would; with a ship as big as the White Whale, a lack of hydraulic stairs was a painfully serious issue. I'd worked to compensate with Levant, had trained to do it as quickly as possible, but I'd known it would take a while, just as I'd known that it was unlikely we'd get out before there was a response. If Levant moved at top speed, there were no complications on either side, and the passengers cooperated perfectly, she might have been able to get everyone loaded in about fifteen minutes. Realistically speaking, odds were better that it would have taken twenty, twenty-five minutes instead, allowing for difficulties and general stupidity. Far from ideal, but there's only so much you can do when you have to transport a large group of people while lacking a lot of infrastructure and under fire.

Given the circumstances, though…it might be pushing higher than that. I'd gotten back Dreary Midnight fairly quickly, but I'd also had to split her focus occasionally. Because of that, it may well push as high as thirty, though I held out hope I was highballing it. That's a lot of time to buy in any situation.

When your perceptions were enhanced as high as mine were, it was a length of time that seemed to drag on forever.

Penny and I traded blows beyond counting, metallic impacts filling the night air in a symphony that brought to mind the marching of soldiers and the hammering of drums. It was hard not to lose myself in the battle, simply because a large part of me wanted to, wanted to let time flow past around us as we clashed—but I had to pay attention to the details and the moments, so it stretched on endlessly instead. I felt bullets beat a steady rhythm on my skin as we came together and heard metal ring as we parted. Every touch carried with it staccato images I perceived through Crocea Mors and Vulturnus, images that flickered and vanished in almost the same instant they were made, an instant of perception. I felt pain and power flow through me as I was wounded and healed, exhausted and invigorated, and Penny and I fought like tireless machines.

And all the while, I counted the glacial passage of seconds. I had to, needed to pay attention to every moment, focusing my thoughts towards their intended purpose even as I kept track of the slow boarding of passengers. I monitored the skies around me even as I watched every move Penny made, on constant alert for new threats regardless of source. Penny swung her blade in an arc I ducked under it, left arm coming up to brace itself against the androids reaching free arm even as I stuck a blow to it further up with my claws. Her sword stopped more abruptly then it should have been able to before it changed directions, coming back for another swing at my head that I stepped away from, driving a palm into her forearm as I went.

Penny followed, advancing as I retreated, never stopping or slowing. She swung her blade again, gun firing above her as her free fingers flexed. She was silent again, green eyes wide and almost glowing as she stared at me intently, taking everything in, processing it, reacting. At first, her swordsmanship had been very clean and precise, almost literally textbook, but also very basic—something I suspected may have been literally programmed into her. She was good at it, but not great, because every attack was too exact, too precise. Predictable and formulaic, responding to problems in the exact same way.

Within a minute, that had changed. She began to vary her attacks as they proved ineffective, incorporating things she'd tried before to improve it. In mid-swing, she released her blade, letting it fly from her fingers in a wide, sweeping arc that I ducked under. Almost the moment I did so, she moved forward, jumping forward and coming down with enough force to lift small slabs of concrete. I leapt into the air the moment Sense Danger alerted me and touched earth the same moment she drew her sword back to her hand and swung it over her, releasing it once more to bring it down on me. It bit deeply into the ground at my feet as I stepped back, but she just used that to reel herself towards me.

An open-palmed strike passed through where my head had been a moment before as I ducked low, driving the heels of my palms into her knees and thighs in a series of quick blows before leaning back as she drew her sword from the concrete and brought it back up, tip arching just before my eyes. I turned the motion into a handspring, coming back to my feet as she took a step forward and swung her sword down again. I brought up both my hands, touching her forearm as I leveraged myself to the side before letting go. My right hand clenched into a fist and my open right covered it as I drove an elbow into her chest. Her other arm rose, outlined clearly to Crocea Mors and Vulturnus' senses as I touched her, and I dropped to a knee as it tried to seize me, guiding it over my head with a pair of gentle touches.

There was a moment's pause as I drew to the side, subtly palming a crystal from my inventory and consuming it to keep myself going as she turned to continue—and we were back in the fray.

All the while, I kept my attention on her, as she did to me. Every moment I looked for a way in or a way out, a way to strike or to defend. Penny was crushing power, unending strength, a machine that never tired or faltered, and yet, for all that, intelligent and methodical. Every mistake she made was corrected, plans were modified on the fly. Successes were noted and incorporated into further actions as she drove endlessly, relentlessly forward. Penny may have been innocent, but she wasn't stupid and she learned quickly. She drew ever closer with each attack, every failure building towards the hope of future success. I kept just ahead of her, slightly out of reach, and hit her a hundred times to seemingly no effect. I saw the damage it did, chipping away at her in almost meaninglessly minute amounts, and kept going anyway, deeming it unimportant. I was speed, precision, great power applied accurately, carefully, deliberately, all leading towards the same end, each blow making careful progress, however small—not trying to match her power or even compete with it, but aiming for something else.

We were different designs leading towards the same goals. I watched her grow stronger as we fought, learning and improvising with each moment. I did the same, skills improving quickly just to stay that one step ahead, considering her, predicting her, striking her as best I could to drive forward. We were like blades being tested against one another, being driven to our limits just to learn how to surpass them—and for a minute we seemed matched.

The battle ran on, through the streets, atop the sides of buildings. The gun floating behind Penny took to shifting, sprouting into six controlled swords again, attempting new tactics as she tested new things. For a moment, she moved through them, blades driving into the ground and walls to pull her this way and that, drawing her through the air and altering her path. I drew her into a building, engaging her in close quarters and evading a dozen swords as I continued to pound into her. They consolidated into another sword afterwards as we dueled in limited space and I weaved in between blades to get to her until she drove me back to—and through—a wall. The blade returned to its gun form in the streets as I had more room to dodge and maneuver, keeping on me with steady, mild damage as I drew closer again. We exchanged hundreds of blows as the minutes passed and still seemed matched.

We went up and down the streets, over and through the buildings, came together and parted a thousand times, and through it all seemed matched. Each of us was building towards something, drawing closer with every success and failure alike, yet seemed even through it all. To an outsider, it must have looked like it could go either way.

Looks can be deceiving. As the fight drew on, things slowly changed as planted seeds began to grow. I kept her in the center of my attention, but the nature of it began to change, shifting with every action as we drew closer and closer to the end. What started as a battle became more of a dance and I found my place in the dangerous, shifting steps and felt completely calm, with perhaps just a hint of something that might have been anticipation and might have been dread as the flow quickened and rose. All I had to do was—

"Let's stop," I said as we fell down to the streets, drawing away suddenly instead of stepping forward. "There's no point in taking this any further."

"What?" Penny asked, hesitating in her advance.

"There's no point to taking this any further," I repeated. "This fight's over."

Penny tilted her head to the side, blinking slowly.

"Are you surrendering?" She asked.

"I'm afraid not," I said. "I'm just winning. The ship will be loaded soon and I will depart. There's little reason to continue this fight anymore. It was fun playing with you Penny, but I'll need to leave soon, so let's end this here, okay?"

"I cannot allow that," She replied, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but I still can't let you go."

"It's not a matter of allowing," I corrected. "I've already won and I'm going to leave now—I don't want to hurt you to do so, though, so please. For my sake. Stand aside. You've already lost."

"No, I haven't," She said. "I am combat ready—and I will never give up so long as I can still fight."

She took a step forward and then began to run, but I didn't move. I didn't turn away, I didn't back down, and I didn't flinch.

I just sighed quietly, stepped forward, and whispered just high enough to be sure she would catch it.

"Right arm," I said as I stepped just to the side of the blade, dodging along the outside of her arm. My left hand came up to grasp her wrist, my right her shoulder. With each hand, I used the Tiger's Jaws, doubled with Double Strike, multiplied with Power Strike, Rip, and Crush, pulling it back behind her with all my might.

But really, that was just the final blow, the straw that broke the camel's back. What happened next had been long in the coming. Penny and I had both been working towards something, trying to guide the battle in our favor—but the advantage had been mine, for I held the most powerful weapon of all.

Information. I knew, if roughly, what she was capable off, but there were many, many things she didn't know about me. Her plan had been to wear me down, to improve her strategies and plans to fence me in and push me back, all leading up to a final blow—but my plan had literally been built with every blow, every exchange, whenever I touched her. It had been in gentle touches, seemingly pointless strikes to her defending arms, to her legs, a work in progress from the very beginning striking at weak point she hadn't even known to defend.

So though I applied careful pressure and force, put my entire body into accomplishing on thing, and hammered, grasped, crushed, and tore with all my might, what happened next wasn't a matter of my strength. No, that was a small part of it, in all honesty. In truth, it was a matter of careful build up, minute applications of Crocea Mors in a thousand instants of contact and flickering images, the buildup of many minor changes through her Aura as the minutes dragged on, all leading up to one moment, one final push, an instant of strain that even her soul couldn't compensate for.

And with a crack and a pop and a groan, with a small rain of bits of metal, with a sudden force giving way—with all of that, I tore off Penny's arm.

She stumbled then, as her body came free of her arm, and then fell. She tried to catch herself, realizing a moment too late that one of the arms she'd sought to do so with was absent, and then fell on her face.

"I'm sorry," I said honestly, looking at the arm for a moment before setting it down on the ground. "I'd hoped to avoid that. But with this, it should be clear. Your father can fix that when you're retrieved, so just sit this one out for now, okay? I've won, Penny."

Penny lay prone on the ground for a moment, not moving or saying a word. Ideally, she'd see this as a sign of overwhelming power and give up, or wonder how it was possible, or any number of other things but…after that moment of stillness passed, I saw her lift herself carefully with one arm, compensating for the absent one as if it were natural for her and slowly rising to stand.

"No," She said, looking at me with her green eyes. She didn't seem hurt or even scared—she didn't seem different at all, really. "I already told you, I will never give up so long as I'm able to fight. Something like this…it doesn't even hurt."

The sword in her dismembered hands grasp twitched once before withdrawing. I watched it return to the side of its mistress, floating in the air near where she would have held it, and sighed again.

"Penny, you are amazing," I told her. "To get up, despite that, to refuse to give up—you are simply amazing. But there is a difference between being brave and being reckless. There are times when you need to put everything on the line and fight, but for you…this shouldn't be one of them. Whether it hurts or not, don't put yourself at risk for something like this. This shouldn't be a battle you need to stake your life on. Accept your defeat."

"I haven't lost yet," She said stubbornly, striding forward more warily this time. "I won't accept defeat—no matter what, I will fight until my body is broken. For my father…I have to protect this world. I am ready…I am. So I won't lose to anyone."

I looked at her quietly, Observing her resolve, and exhaled slowly.

"This really means a lot to you," I noted. "I hope you father knows how proud he should be of you for that. But…you can't always win Penny. And if you tear yourself apart trying to anyway, imagine what that will do to the people who care about you. You're still a child; you don't have to protect the world by yourself. Walk away from this fight, get stronger, and we'll play again some other day. But give up, Penny. Sit down and watch me leave. This isn't a battle you can win; you should know that already."

"I know no such thing," She said, stump of an arm sparking. "It's only minor damage. I am still combat ready."

"You're missing an arm," I stated.

"I don't need my arms to fight," She reminded, twitching her strings. "And as long as I can keep fighting—"

"You won't give up," I said calmly, nodding as I stared her down. "You sure about that, though?"

Her float sword lashed out at my, flying through the air every bit as fast as before. I sidestepped, mind already shifting into action, focusing on the contingencies. I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this.

That didn't mean I didn't expect it.

"Left leg," I spoke.

I Lunged low, hand thrusting up into her chest, a series of blows that lifted her off her feet. I turned then, leg coming up to hammer into her stomach, driving her down into the concrete and then I grabbed her left leg as it was kicked into the air. With feet planted, I grabbed her hard, twisting with my entire body—and weakened metal came loose.

I dropped her leg to dodge out of the way of her returning sword, brushing off the bullets of her gun.

"There," I said, rising and turning away. "Even if you can fight without an arm, you shouldn't be able to follow me with just one leg. I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, but…just wait here until your father comes to get you, okay?"

Instead of replying, her gun unfolded into six swords, driving themselves into the ground and surrounding buildings before pulling taunt, lifting Penny in the process. The sword she'd been using followed suit, giving her a full twelve blades, several of which moved to steady her, wires wrapping tightly around her upper body.

"You're incorrect. If needed, I can keep fighting without my arms or legs," She claimed.

I sighed, looking over my shoulder at her.

"Penny, don't be a sore loser," I said chidingly, trying a different tactic. "You lost fair and square, so sit down and wait for your father to come get you."

"I haven't lost," She insisted, sounding almost petulant.

I looked at her, frustrated, saddened, and, more than anything, tired. I wondered how likely it was that she'd actually try to follow me if I tore off her arms and legs—and how likely it was she'd succeed. Despite her words, there was little to be afraid of, though; with the amount of effort she had to spend to just stay upright now, she was no threat to me. Regardless of her level, with one arm and one leg, I wasn't worried.

Not about her actually stopping me, at least. How she was so stubborn that she'd literally tear herself to pieces before giving up, though…

And yeah, it may have been a bit hypocritical of me to be upset about that, but my body could actually take whatever I put it through—and I wouldn't risk my life unless there was a good reason. Penny was…

"Are you scared?" I asked suddenly, pieces coming together. "Of not being good enough to live up to their expectations? To be unable to fulfill your purpose?"

I saw her hesitate and suddenly wasn't sure what to do. I'd been on the other side of this issue before and I honestly had no idea how to resolve it. I didn't know what I could say or do to fix that—if there was anything, no one had ever told me, certainly. But…

"Penny, you are a living being," I said. "You're your own person, whatever you were created for. But if it's that important to you to fight, then so be it. I have a few more minutes; I'll fight until you understand."

"I haven't been defeated." She insisted again.

I closed my eyes for a moment, opening them as I felt my body strum like a chord.

You've received the title 'Heir of the White Tiger.'

Heir of the White Tiger

By proving your might in battle, you have obtained a position above all others. By fighting under the effects of the White Tiger's Five Hundred Years for one thousand straight seconds, you have proven yourself worthy of carrying on your master's legacy! Even so, continue your training to obtain true mastery and stand above all as the White Tiger of the West!

80% increase the damage of White Tiger techniques.

80% increase to the defense granted by White Tiger techniques.

40% decrease in the cost of White Tiger techniques.

Status: White Tiger's Star [Intermediate]

I looked down for a moment before swiping a finger.

"I'm sorry, Penny," I said as what felt like a bolt of lightning raced down my spine. "But you have."

XxXXxX