Saiyan

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

"Boy, I'm stuffed," Zell said to himself as he hobbled his way to the secret exit of the temple with the aid of his crutch. The Englishman hadn't stopped at his milk and oats. He'd gone through a variety of easy-to-make foods in the kitchen, leaving unwashed dishes in his wake. After that, and without hesitation, he proceeded to fill up his belt satchel with anything that tickled his fancy. He figured it all an 'extra service charge' for his work. The magical way that inventory worked for Source Crystal users meant that he could pack quite a bit too. It never ceased to amaze him just how compressed dimensional space and weight was in satchel. And this was nothing compared with the enchanted haversack that Adam carried around with him. You could probably fit a piano in that thing, Zell imagined jokingly.

When he got outside, "Crap, where'd everybody go!?" he hurried as best he could across the courtyard towards Temple Hill steps. But not before stopping by the severed head of Zigmund. "Thought you were Bee's Knee's, didn't ya, ye bastard. Well look at you now," he said with contempt. He spat on the metal-plated head, then hobbled off to make his descent down to the village of Cherrad.

...

Of course, Second Chance didn't leave without him. He wasn't sure how long he'd held them up, so he forgoed stopping to hear any gratitude or platitude, giving a salute to the village elder Antonius as he passed him by. "All the best, old man. Pleasure to serve in your hour of need. We go by Second Chance, also known as The Heroes from the Sky, Slayer of Aurok the Maneater and probably a dozen other things before the year's end. Tell your friends."

He wasn't his gracefully athletic self getting up onto the flat-bed wagon with a crutch, but he managed it, giving a nod in leui of a hello for anyone who looked. He plonked himself between James and Barracker, first checking on the Cleric. "How's it going, mate? You're looking a little better than before." He thought it not best to pry too hard in front of everyone, but he was sure something was up with James. As soon as he got a moment alone with his friend, he would have to find out what exactly had happened between him and Zigmund before the final checkmate.

...

It wasn't with comfiest journey he'd ever been on, but Zell enjoyed the relaxing views, his bad leg stretched out before him, elbows resting on the guard-rail he was leaning back against. After a while, he gave Barracker a nudge.

"Sorry about your sword, bro," he said quietly, sincerely and very seriously.

A warrior's weapon was an extension of themselves - quite often sentimental, named, even gendered and given personality by it's owner. The best swordsmen often cared for their sword deeply, maintaining it like a solid friendship. This, Zell understood as part of his vast knowledge of swords, swordplay and the other adjacent subjects he'd been gifted with, upon entering this world. On top of that, Zell remembered the pride and fondness Barracker spoke with when the two of them, as strangers in Golden Tree Park, traded weapons to each show off their prized possessions. To see the Orichaclum Claymore in pieces was an extra injury amongst the party.

"Gildor Hammerfist in Valhiem should be able to repair it. Don't worry about it, it'll be stronger than ever once he's through with it," he gave the Paladin a grin with his attempt to cheer the man up. They talked for a little bit about the best materials for swords and what the best alloys were. Then the topic went on to the best kinds of swords beyond their katana and greatsword. Then techniques and stances. And finally a mix of all three topics: 'What worked best; for what, with what and when.'

But in the end, thinking back on that finishing moment when he'd gotten the drop on Zigmund and delivered his promise to the bastard, Zell changed the subject completely.

"You know..." he started, a short glance at the sky to consider his wording before looking back at his friend. "You being a Paladin of Hades n all - what happens to a person when they die, in this world? Or at least; what's supposed to happen? Is there a heaven and hell, or something?" He gave Barracker a chance to speak a little before asking some follow up questions to get more detail about Hades himself, the religion of The Quinity in general, and where Zigmund would be rotting right now, if it was possible to know.

"Was never sure if God was real, back in my world. Never cared, tee-bee-haeche. Now I'm starting to think that there probably was... well... something, at least. Maybe like The Source. Or maybe a full-on fucking man in a cloud. After spending a few weeks in Mytheria, I'm not sure I can be surprised by anything anymore. Ha."

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

"No need to worry about that." The group of burly men, one of which was one-foot ready to climb into the ruins of the temple entrance, all turned to see Zell stood looking at them. The swordsman was leaning on a single crutch, gesturing to the rubble with his free hand. "You won't find anyone in there."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Zell continued. "Pretty-much everyone in the temple was asleep when it all came crashing down. I was closest - climbed through that mess myself. There was no one else."

The explanation seemed to put them all at ease. One of them came to stand to next Zell so he could observe the damage to the temple from a better view. He shook his head and grumbled. "May Hades forgive us for this desecration."

Zell gave a low-note whistle. "Yeah," he halfheartedly agreed. "I'm sure he will. Can't exactly blame you, can he. Gonna cost ya though - getting this fixed."

"In manpower and money," was the gruff response. "But the towns around will help. Valhiem too... if we can get through all the red tape."

"Yeah, best of luck with that, pal."

...

It only took him eight doors. "Winner."

After finding the secret side-door to the temple, where Fenna and all of the ex-cultists had exited, Zell had gone looking for food and finally navigated his way through the maze of rooms to the temple kitchen. The healing potion that he'd been kindly given by a helpful villager was starting to work and his leg was doing a little better, but the potion had tasted like crap and reminded him that he was starving. Now he was ready to hungry-hippo every cupboard in the kitchen.

He settled down at a table with a big bowl of milk and oats - something not unfamiliar to the athlete - and worked his spoon relentlessly, pausing only to say, "Ohh, that's the stuff," with a full mouth.

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

Zell couldn't kneel properly, so he subconciously ended up sitting down next to James as his eyes went from the Cleric's wounds to the Cleric's eyes, to the Cleric's wounds to the Cleric's eyes.

The pain pulsing in his left leg couldn't supercede his worry. Nor could the rain. Nor could the voice of the randomer who appeared at the top of the steps and promised to go get help from the village. In fact; not even James' nasty stab wounds could take Zell's full attention. There was something wrong with his best friend. James was so far in his own head, he didn't even seem to notice that Zell was sat right there. The Englishman rubbed his mouth, his eyebrows knitted together in an emotion somewhere between concern and fear, his instincts screaming that this was not normal.

"Bro?" he said quietly. No answer.

"Is everyone okay?"

Zell turned his head partway toward Adam, but his eyes remained on James. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out - he wasn't sure what to say - however, MacKensie spoke up.

"No," That word managed to get Zell out of his trance of worry - Damn. Who else is hurt? - and when he saw her coming over, he slowly managed to stand, wobbling as he tried to keep his weight off his left foot. "Clive, Barracker... Please, help Fenna... and Adam..."

Zell tried to help with James but MacKensie was handling it perfectly fine without him. Once James was up, Zell left MacKensie to it, looking around to see that Barracker had Fenna covered and Clive was following them to the shelter. Zell filled in the gaps and went to give Adam a hand. As Zell limped over, he could see the the Druid had already been patched up during the battle. James' handiwork, Zell guessed. He offered a hand to the younger man and, once it was taken, he put all his weight on his good foot and pulled Adam up to his feet.

"You look rough as a bear's arse, mate;" an old English saying that fit rather well after Adam's previous show of shapeshifting power. Zell laughed through his fatigue, trying to tease at least a smile out of his comrade as he snuck an arm under Adam's and put a stablizing hand on the Druid's back as they walked, making sure he made it to the shelter without falling to any dizzy spells or anything. Adam looked like he'd been in a 12-rounder with Mike Tyson. "Bloody good stuff, out there, mate. You were a force to be reckoned with."

He gave Adam a pat on the back as they reached the shelter, then went around and gave a show of comradery to everyone, individually. "Nice fighting out there... good job, mate... you too, Sil... well played... well played... nice one."

He was about to ease himself into a seat, but when MacKensie started on Clive, he paused and looked at the dead man walking. "Jeez! Yeah, what the hell?" he joined in, rubbing the back of his head with a laugh. He was so fatigued he'd almost forgot that Clive had just casually slipped back into the fold. Clive's explanation was sparse. It raised quite a few questions too. Robed figures? It seemed they were being tracked all over the place. Zigmund proved they were being chased down from the moment they landed in this world. The Tin Can had also proved that they could be tracked. Easily too. Within twenty-four hours of leaving Hommas. Within twenty-four hours of leaving Valhiem. Not good. MacKensie and Joji had buried Clive on a random hill, but even his grave had been gotten to.

Zigmund's dead now. Who will be next?

"Didn't quite understand how or why them strangers gave me life but I swore I'd do all in my power to protect you all, a right good job I did." the southerner looked down shaking his head with a sigh.

Zell looked suspiciously at his Source Crystal, once more remembering the voice of Lucy Bottrill explaining about Source Codes and Source Crystals. What the hell is going on here!? a thought raged as he closed his fist. So many questions. It was hard to even out his temper with all the pain and exhaustion, but he managed it. One thing at a time, lad. We patch up. Maybe get some actual undisturbed rest. Hopefully James has snapped out of it by then. Then we hit Valhiem. Hospital. Guildhouse. Source Comm. At least a few answers, surely. Maybe have time for a couple of beers. Calm down, Zell.

"No use moping about it...I'm just glad ya'll are alright." a warm smile returned to Clive's face, he laughed loud and Zell used the positive energy to force a jolly demeanour.

"Ha!" He threw an arm over Clive's shoulder and gave the man a little hug. "Glad to have you back, mate. I ain't ashamed to say I missed you and that accent of yours."

Now he sat down, stretching his neck to one side and then the other. He snuck a peek at James to see how the man was doing, then looked out into the rain as they waited for aid from the villagers.

"I hope they bring some food, I could eat a horse."

What a fucking morning.

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

Zigmund lacked his usual edge. And he got it back a little too late

@xenon

snooze ye lose in this cut-throat business. Can't wait to see what the necks'd chapter brings

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

To say Zell was fired up would be the understatement of the century. His heart had turned into a Ferrari combustion engine. In place of his blood was lava. Instead of adrenaline - steroids. And his brain's synapses were firing bolts of lightning. MacKensie on board with the plan - Tick. The Frenchwoman's eyes going from 'drowning in despair' to 'Surfs Up!' - Tick. 'With all my heart'? - Big-ass tick, right there. As the two of them held eachother, ready to go, it was like they were two atoms in a molecule; electron sharing back'n'forth so rapidly, it was like both of them had double energy now.

Colevont bond...? Covenant bond...? COVALENT bond! See? I paid attention in class... sometimes.

While Zell was deciding to recall highschool science lessons in the middle of a tense and deadly battle, James' yelling managed to draw him from his tunnel-vision on Zigmund.

"Bastard! Motherfucker! Die fucking ogre!"

"James, no don't."

"He can't be serious," Zell added. Their only healer was on a suicide mission. That was the first thought, at least. Just like MacKensie, Zell admiring his best friend's bravery had brought his mind all the way back to the last time James was shouting obscenities as loud as humanly possible. That time, it was actually an ogre he was yelling at. And also...

It was all part of a plan, Zell realised. He sees us. "Heh," Zell's one-sided grin was back. "What have you got for us, bro?"

When the Mexicano took the first punch, Zell tightened his grip on MacKensie. "Now, Mac." But she stayed put. Then James took a second punch and Zell started to panic. Had she frozen up in the moment? "What are you waiting for?"

Then it happened. Whatever the hell 'It' was, it had happened. James had fucking happened - the god-damn genius that he was. Zigmund started freaking out, staggering away from James. MacKensie was not frozen at all. She was right on timing, more in-sync with James than even Zell was, in this moment (just like last time too.) And they were off, flying towards Zigmund at speed, Zell with his sword already out.

Clive ran into the picture and helped Zigmund right into their path with one big punch that sent the metal ninja skidding into the stone pillar, just off the path at Temple Hill steps. At twelve yards, Zell and MacKensie let go of eachother, Zell landing on the wet dirt in one-footed skid.

"Take Vor..." he wound his body up, mid-slide.

----

Zigmund Mugba-Zarak

"Take Vor..."

Zigmund had good enough hearing to catch the magic invocation and his head snapped to the sound. He knew those words, all too well. How the loudmouth had managed to figure out that The Black Sword was cursed? The Elite Agent could guess. How the loudmouth was brazen enough, and morally flexible enough, to intentionally say those words and inherit the curse? That was a more difficult assessment.

Either way, Zigmund needed to move.

He tried to use Water Form but it malfunctioned, due to the kinetic energy rippling through his body. Damn that man, was his curse for Clive. He backed up a step and found himself against the stone pillar. Zell was still a fair distance away. Was he going to throw the sword? No - ridiculous - he must have been charging something. Zigmund would be ready to dodge. Still, he kept trying to activate his Water Form.

"...Baphomet!" came Zell's voice from over Zigmund's shoulder, a quarter way around the pillar.

Zigmund stiffened up. "!?!?!"

----

After-Image: A special optional upgrade of the Teleport ability, named by Zell himself. Using two of Zell's daily teleports instead of one, Zell can not only teleport his maximum distance, but also leave a perfect image of himself in the place he teleported from.

"...Baphomet!"

Zell span with all the torque and power his one-footed stance could muster. The sword went through the stone pillar like a hot knife through butter, kept going without losing any speed... Zigmund managed to Water Form just in time... but didn't have the time to drop into a puddle. The blade of The Black Sword went straight through the water-form neck of their enemy, turning Zigmund's water form back to his usual, steel-armoured physical self. The decapitated head popped up into the air. His body fell forward, neck gushing blood. The top half of the stone pillar slid off the opposite way and hit the ground with a loud crash.

Zell finished his 360 spin, then almost fell over, using the bottom half of the pillar for support. Once he saw the lifeless body and Zigmund's head hit the floor, he blew out a big breath and turned to slide his back down the pillar and take a seat on the ground. He was pale, his leg still bleeding from the entry and exit wound on his thigh. He couldn't do much but heavily breathe for a moment.

He wasn't sure where MacKensie had landed, but had a feeling she would be close. "You there, doll?" if she answered...

"I think that counts as a drink for me."

After half a minute, Zell cut two strips of his cloak off, then tied the green the green fabric tight around his injured leg to stop the bleeding. After that, he got himself up with a strain and went to touch base with the rest of his friends.

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

damn lol James is a savage

oof.gif

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

Zell had followed Adam to Zigmund's dying body, stepping through the giant water-absorbent roots with his usual disregard for his own safety, all to have a front-row seat to Adam finishing their enemy off. A dark smile was on the Englishman's face. He was tempted to delay Adam so he could rip Zigmund's helmet off and see his true face. Perhaps even stop Adam altogether and cut this bastard's head off, just as he'd promised back in the Mazy Hillocks. But no. Adam had the job covered. A close up view of the life leaving Zigmund's body would suffice.

Adam raised a hand as the rain began to fall heavy.

"Adios, Tin Can," Zell jeered smugly. "It's been fun."

And then came the blast. Suffice to say; it was not the kind of blast Zell expected. The light and noise alone, as Adam's beam turn into an explosion, was enough for a complete sensory overload.

...Piiinnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggg...

Blind and deaf to the constant blur and ringing in his head, Zell barely realised he was flying through the air until he hit something. Hard. It was was one of the statues of Hades that were lined around the temple courtyard. Zell was left lying on his back in the dirt unconcious, until enough rain filled his mouth to choke him and bring him back to life, coughing hard. And yet, the ringing persisted. Very gradually his vision and hearing came back, Zell reorienting himself with the guidance of an angry, heavily American-accented speech from their resurrected comrade.

Seeing Zigmund stood there, Adam nowhere to be found, everyone else spread about... and then his memory of the very last moment before the blast: Zigmund laughing. From struggling to hang onto his life, to laughing. What changed?

"The rain," Zell whispered to himself. Then with this new conclusion, he looked at Zigmund again. Their enemy was devoid of any injury - any scratch! - they'd given him. "Shit. We hit him with everything we had."

Clive was angry as fuck. Rightly so. But Zell had already felt the pain of what happens when fighting while enraged. He had to get in there. He got to his feet and as soon as he put weight on his left foot, he was made aware of the heavily bleeding hole in his leg. "Fuck," he was the cry of pain as he fell on his face. Pain hit Ten, all through his body, as if jumping out for 'Surprise!' at this very moment. His left leg was completely fucked and he was in agony.

He could barely stand and limp, falling over once again, forced to sit out and simply watch Clive and Barracker go at Zigmund. Forced to relive the Mazy Hillocks fight all over again - a completely clear and utterly demoralising power difference between Second Chance and the metal ninja.

~~~~"Picture my surprise when I took this finely crafted orichalcum claymore from the corpse of an orc captain."~~~~~

-The memory of the first meeting between Zell Brooks and Barracker Kassel in Golden Tree Park. Two men, strangers, bonding over girls and weapons. Funny. Different worlds and yet; typical boys.

The entire meeting was burned into his mind, not just because of the new friend he'd made, but mostly because it had been the first time he'd opened up and verbalised his feelings for MacKensie. In this particular moment, the specific memory of Barracker's Claymore was the important part... as it just FUCKING BROKE IN HALF!

Panic began to set in. Zell heartrate managed to rise even more. Orichalcum - one of the hardest metals in Mytheria - swung with vampire strength, connection clean... broken on impact. Zigmund had become more powerful than ever. Everyone's limited spells were running low, no doubt. Some had surely ran out completely.

"We're dead."

Even if they managed to hold out until the rain stopped - which, to be frank, would be impossible - Zigmund would be at full strength and they would all be close to death... and that was the best case scenario! There was only one path, in Zell's mind. One way to stop Zigmund. And there'd be only one chance at it too.

One slim chance.

He looked around and saw Fenna and MacKensie. Fenna went to meet Zigmund as Zell tried to get over to them, limping for a couple of steps before falling and realising he was better off crawling.

"MacKensie," he called out before she too decided to run off. He needed her badly, if his plan was to work. When he finally scrambled his way over to her, he beckoned her to her knees, to his level, to hear his words and see his eyes. "Zigmund is going to kill us all. Right now he can't be touched." He sounded like he was mentally broken, panic riddled and all over the place. He struggled and started to control himself. "But I can kill him." He put a hand on her shoulder, nodding his head, eyes wide. "I can kill him but I'll only get one chance. This sword... once per day..." he suddenly shook his head. "Fuck all that. Trust me. I can kill him but I need to get close, and I can barely walk."

He grabbed her gauntlet, his other hand still on her shoulder. "You can get me there. Twelve yards. That's how close I need to get. Ten metres. Like a football penalty box, you've seen it right? The goal..." He suddenly shook his head again as he once-again cast away the need for explanation. "Fuck.. listen. Get me twelve yards in. Please. Zip us in there and let me go. Twelve yards.

I trust you," he added, voice shaking as sincerity battled to overwhelm panic in his cadence and tenor. He let go of her gauntlet and gently guided her head so their foreheads touched. "I trust you. Do you trust me?"

A magical grapplehook gauntlet. A teleport. A sword that could once-per-day cut through anything.

One chance. One roll of the dice. One dance with the devil.

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

I caught up on the whole IC before seeing the OOC lol utterly ruthless GMing

@xenonngl you almost had me

@SaiyanZell has been drafted to anti-archer duty. Deal with it xD

@Zool

@ZoolMacKensie has been drafted to Zell-transportation duty. Deal with it xD

Try and wait to post last if you can

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

@Dark CloudYou said 'collab or team attack' so I figured I had a choice lol collab felt like hard work for around thirty seconds of time span to play with

If you weren't planning on doing a little punch combo tho my bad bro

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

In his brief brush of the shoulders with Death, Zell had missed some of the battle. He didn't realise that Fenna was hurt and Barracker was outright floored. He hadn't realised that the Ranger and Paladin had previously put on a mesmerizing display of weaponskill and teamwork - Adam a mastery of support magic with impeccable timing. What he did see, once he was hail enough to prop himself up on an elbow and view the battle, was the last thing he expected.

"James, I don't think you're healing is working cuz I am fucking seeing things, my mate."

It was Clive! Zell blinked hard a few times to make sure the American was actually there. He still wouldn't believe his eyes until his once-dead team mate rode up on Zigmund and dove off his ghostly horse with a punch that would've laid out the greatest heavyweights of all time. Zell open-mouth grinned in joy, looking to James and MacKensie to see that they were just as shocked as he was.

"Life is getting up one more time than you’ve been knocked down. An' I came back to be sure you never did."

"Lord in heaven, it is him," MacKensie's reaction said it all. "Clive."

"Ho. Lee. Shit," Zell said as he struggled to take a knee. It was time to tag back into the ring.

James was a step ahead, issuing the call to action with that power-version of his voice that showed up when it counted, as opposed to his usual 'yeah, whatever' tone he liked to adopt. "He is vulnerable, attack!" He and MacKensie were into a tandem attack before the Englishman could even get to his feet. While Zigmund was struggling with them, Zell was checking himself for holes, giving himself a police-style pat-down and casually nodding with approval at James' handiwork. "Not gonna lie; you're good at what you do, mate," he said loudly enough for James to hear.

The unseriousness masked his prudence.

It was important to make sure that he was fully fit to be in the fight and be effective, this time, not just be a burden. The majority of his attention while patting himself down was gauging the battlefield. Adam looked perfectly fine. He always does. He could see Fenna had taken minor injury. She'll be fine. Barracker was wounded badly. I should check on him first. And of course; James and MacKensie's attack was simply sublime, MacKensie looking especially cool as fuck when she zoomed down from the sky for a second 'MacFlurry.' She gets better and better with that gauntlet. Incredible.

Zell picked up his sword and made quickly toward Barracker, but circumstances changed everything when MacKensie took a beatdown. It wasn't the beatdown per-say. It was the steam.

"Fuck, he's gonna kill her!" Zell shouted. "James!"

He waved his best friend to join him and sprinted towards the steam, but just as he was about to test if his teleport could work without a clear visual of the location he wanted to teleport, Zigmund went speeding out of the steam cloud in the direction of Adam. On the edge of the steam he stood in limbo, thinking, There's no way he managed to kill her that fast, he was in there for a second. It was a trick, which meant Adam needed help.

Or did he?

"What in the fuck..." Zell tapered off in awe as Adam transformed into a bear. It was a sight to behold. It was only when Adam started man-handling Zigmund, one on one, like a man versus a child, that Zell felt the tension disappear. "Just how many powers has this guy got!?"

"How you doing there, doll?" he asked MacKensie as the steam cloud dissipated. "You still good to go?"

He already knew her answer before she'd spoke. MacKensie was as tough as she was virtuous. It would take more than a punch and a couple of kicks to keep her down.

"Hey Clive," he called. "Bloody hard to get rid of you, ain't it?" Zell laughed. "You do know we'll be docking your pay for sleeping on the job all this time."

It was about this time that Adam the Bear was done tearing Zigmund apart. Zell had to believe that Barracker's tanky nature (not to mention the vampiristic physical traits) would be enough for him to hold on while the rest of them took this golden opportunity. So he said to all who could hear him, "I think this is as good a time as any to finish this fucker, once and for all. What do you say? Let's fucking do this!"

And he started charging. With the differences in speed of everyone, plus the differences in proximity to Zigmund, Zell would be ready to smartly (not wildly,) level-headedly (not raging mad,) syncronize with his fellow comrades, acting like the swordsman (not caveman) that he was.

His jumped in with quick slashes and leapt back a step to quickly circle and find new angles, stylistically mimmicking how he'd seen MacKensie fight. In and out, taking his turn to throw a combination of strikes and moving aside to let another apply their own pressure. If James still had Counter Spells left, this would not be looking good for Zigmund. Against the broken-down ninja, Zell would not stop until Second Chance were all stomping a lifeless metal body into the dirt, because that's what this bastard deserved.

At one point, when Clive let loose a ferocious combination of punches, Zell full-on leap frogged the broad shouldered Texan into a powerful two-handed downward strike onto the enemy.

It was pretty wild. But Zell wouldn't be Zell without, at least a little, indulging in the utterly ridiculous.