@Reflection@Cu Chulainn @Paradox Witch @Argonaut @Seirei No HaiHe nodded. The concerns and priorities were reasonable. He was moved to act similar to his servant, despite his servant in his own deep moment of important need. To marry, a most amazing experiences. Like a wraith the servants carried out with the leftover desires and regrets of heroes. Yet in this case were those regrets creating a transformation? A brand new possibility. What laid in the future even for these ghosts in the past was hopefully something beautiful.
What was less beautiful was the news that came in.
"Boss! There's a riot in our turf! You gotta do something 'bout it!"
A riot in the streets, a problem.
It didn’t need to be said.. “Saber. Go ahead and look for your sword, or go to the mountain.”
Well, he supposed there was one question he had to ask. “Tell my servant about where I can send those who need shelter.” Directed towards Gin, it was a branch of trust offered to the magus of the Fujimura group. He grabbed a bottle of that wine meant for his kind for the road and ran out, at speeds beyond human, ripping through the streets of Fuyuki towards the land that had been so tortured with the advent of the war.
Miyama - Man-made Disaster
People warring, fighting. They were scared, they were greedy, they were in danger. They had seen evils and terrors that tore at the lens that they viewed their peaceful world through. Exposed to the horrors of that fire, to the absurdity of that tree, the fright of that light that could have scorched the city, razing it to simple rubble and ash.
The blasts from a ship, the explosion from a lance. The already plagued Fuyuki was home to the destruction and sounds of a modern warzone.
A cursed fire, a falling world, a terrible storm, the blasts relating to a tree, the destruction at a railyard.
The five penalties that have been visited upon Fuyuki.And from those five penalties were born evil. From those five penalties were born people who feared that they were being punished for no reason. If they would be punished then they would take their own destiny into their own hands. If they were punished then they would attain the sinful fruit that came from evil.
Know the power that gives birth to crime. See the scattering insects, so small, insignificant to the riches of gods.
Devour, devour, devour, devour. They devour each other not seeing the food in front of them. There is no path except the one walked on the corpses of others.
Evil that is shown, the town bathes in cruelty.
I don’t want it to be me
I don't want it to be me.
Let someone else be it instead.
A poisoning, a pot of hatred, of death. This world is a world of slaughter. Curse without reason, curse because they are there. Curse others so you’ll be spared. Punish others because someone must be punished that is not you.
It is ok. This is only reasonable.Because it’s good as long as it isn't me.Crashing glass, the cries of people as they fought, struggled and trampled each other. The scene that he arrived upon was in a sense a match for the horrors of the war that had been brought upon Fuyuki as a consequence of the battles between magi and Heroic Spirits.
Yet he felt his gut twist. The collapse of order, of civilization. A tragedy, an evil visited upon people by people. There was no grand villain that added each swing of a knife that carved into another person who refused to stand down and give up their possessions, their life, their dignity. Those who clung to the hopes that these events, like a bad dream would be washed away with the day.
Those who tried to keep their pride, those who did not wish to lose their lives beyond simply surviving. It was a most terrifying situation, it was a degradation of society that ruined a community beyond the simple loss of lives and death. It was a community rending itself apart. Neighbors were fighting each other, laying waste to the streets that they lived in, grew up in, and cherished. The bonds with each other, the connection to the city, the memories of the street were torn down, ruined. Eyes filled with a lustful greed broke down that which was around them into simple material value.
In other words they had thrown away beauty.
In other words they had thrown away being part of the community.
What was us became them, and others. This was not a town under assault by others. By the sheer virtue that this had happened at all. Even if no true damage occurred, even if no true tragedy came to pass. Even if it was stopped now it would leave a scar that would harm Fuyuki for decades. It was a most unwestern thing, it was a most tragic thing. Evils born of man, visited to each other. Yes, it was sad indeed.
That men’s hearts were driven to such desperation and fear. That these actions were indeed justified as lifeforms did not make it any better. After all humanity evolved beyond being simple living beings. Divorcing themselves from the planet they attained civilization, and progress. It was simple then. These people had lost faith in the light of civilization that spread across the world from the west. There were tragedies born of that as well, people conquering, visiting upon other cruelties to satisfy their convictions, their greed, their dreams. There were many terrible things in history. But built upon those massacres and horrors were the days of today.
Ah. He recognized some of these people. People he’s watched walk down the streets, people he’s seen in the various bars of Fuyuki. People who he saw living their lives peacefully, who struggled within society and for their own selves. Whether they lived at the most base level of modern humans, simply getting by payday to payday, moon by moon. The rare people who held dreams and reached for them. The people who wished to strive for more than what they were…
They were all in a sense beautiful, all living in a world that could only exist because of the various eras built on top of each other. Civilization, the line of a magus, a dojo. A line that built up and became grander and grander. Whether it faced the future or the past…
To abandon that was the greatest tragedy for a person.
The age of modern man with its great cities, of a global connected world had no need for heroes. But the people before him were no longer the civilians of the modern age. So he would, in this war filled with heroes stand in as a simple man, a simple horse and remind them of what they should be as the pale imitation of those heroes. Of a single individual who guided the many.
Even if that was through his fists.
Yet to simply strike everyone down to create order was counterproductive. So he devised a test.
Walking up to a group of people carrying out various goods from a shop, he suddenly tossed a fistful of grain and oats into their faces. Bewildered faces turned into expressions of anger as the looters began to bark at the foreigner man. Ah, these people were indeed just taking advantage of the situation for profit.
So he punched them.
“Eightfold Pathmaker!” [Nothing remains before the fist] - Twofold Edition (20% power)A pulled punch. After all he was only subduing them.
They crumbled.
So he went on. Throwing oats and grains from his pockets and satchels at people to sort out those who he needed to punch and those he did not. To those he did not, he bellowed at them, bringing forth the imposing intent of a trained practitioner that was honed like a weapon, the strangeness of a horse and his earnest burning heart into his words. Directing them to safety. In this one occasion he would trust the Yakuza, he would trust the man named Gin.
Most of all in this case he would trust in the legend known as Chiron.
What lightened his heart however was the fact that he wasn’t the only one who was attempting to bring peace to this riot. A strange foreigner girl, extremely young and dressed more for a leisurely stroll than walking through the hellish Miyama-town hopped around with an innocent pure air. It reminded him of the homunculus in a way, although there was certainly a very human charm and element to her. Wearing glasses and a hat.
The people he confronted were left confused, almost dazed at times. But what was certain was that he lended a helping hand, and in her presence the activity of the looters came to a stop.
“Aha, you should come to this concert! It’s a big high-profile event!”Indeed, the conviction and lighthearted nature of the girl was so at odds at the horrors around to the point that she began to paint over them. Yet there was something twisted about that lightheartedness also.
“It’s way better a target than this stinky pig-pen that’s got a bit too many weeds growing around. Thing have gotten pretty bad here haven’t they?”Perhaps under that cheer was the equally as dark desire of sabotage or something. Or perhaps she was simply playing to their greed?
Prancing about with a baseball cap with a brand he’d never heard of before, and glasses that she seemed to be a bit awkward with, taking them off from time to time to rub at her eyes with a quiet whine that he nevertheless somehow managed to hear despite all the chaos going around them. Well, she was another foreigner that was helping out. Despite the cries of the Yakuza members that brought various mobs of organized looters, tied together by greed and given direction by the small inklings of patriotism. He was a galloping runaway stallion rampaging through crowd after crowd. If anything the incitement of the Yakuza simply made things easier for him.
“Haaah!” His fists lashed out, sending another person crumbling each time. A kitchen knife came at him in a wild slash that he intercepted. The wind whined as his left palm was thrust forth to meet the elbow of the man, redirecting and killing the momentum of his blow with his vastly superior strength. His right hand was not idle during this time, the efficient motion that lacked hesitation grabbing the face of the man, and slamming him down to the ground with its motion.
Men and weapons both flew as he disarmed and defeated crowd after crowd. At times they didn’t even have the time to react. One man fell, and before the man before him had the chance to see the lone horse who stood against their group a fist sailed into his face, knocking him into his companions before him. A brick thrown at him was shattered by a kick, men crying out as before the dust from the powdered block had the time to settle upon the martial artist, his arms swung into them, perhaps inelegantly clobbering them. With his size he was able to sandwich three men, pounding them together and dispersing his power through them all. While he left many aching bodies in his wake he did not leave anyone lame or mortally wounded.
A slash from behind was dodged, Tlilpojuan twisting to the side and bringing his elbow into the side of the man in an elegant motion. Swinging back like a pendulum he drove his fist into another foe.
Dozens after dozens fell.
The mobs were directed towards him, crowding due to the fright caused by the yakuza and gangsters that were beginning to settle into a stand off. Yet the awe and inhuman strength of Tlilpojuan struck as much dread in those who were pillaging the town. Driven towards him because it was not the certain death of opposing those who ruled the underworld of Fuyuki, or the foreigners who packed such deadly instruments of death.
The weight of Fuyuki’s discontent weighed down upon the Horse of Fuyuki.
There is a great witch that can bring shape and materialize various concepts. That witch was not here, but in a sense what he faced was something akin to that. The hordes of men that burned with greed unshackled by desperation and fear bearing down upon him.
Between him and that foreigner girl many of the more innocent civilians that refused to be dragged down into this misery and misfortune were directed to the safe-spot that he asked that man known as Gin about. While men looking for easier picks went to that concert the girl was talking about.
The crowds that should be thinning seemed to show no signs of stopping.
Well.
It was an entire town after all. Was this then the weight of a hero that had to move the destiny of an entire people? A pale shade of a divine crisis. What was wrought here was merely by human hands.
So solve it by human hands. If the current age was that of people, separated from gods and heroes then the people of that age had to show that they could solve their problems too. That was why he could not fail.
Saber.
No.
Roland.
We too have things to fight for.
So watch.
As you search for your own stolen glory watch. The ugliness of man, the cruelty of the world and the past that degraded and dragged them down to such a state. It is too much isn’t it? But despite that it had to be something that could be stopped by a person. A person that isn’t a hero, just a normal modern human. Perhaps a normal modern human was not something that could be applied to him he realized, in a sense. But there were others who ran around too. Like that girl, and like the yakuza. They were men of crime, and sometimes of evil. Yet a part of them worked for the good of this land, this community.
So watch us overcome this.
The people of this age aren’t so weak as to need heroes to babysit them for everything.
So look for your glory and marry your friend, your lover without fear. As long as it was a problem of the modern age he would be fine.
