Saiyan

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

Zell stood alone on the northeastern wall, in the zone that The Lions were designated to defend in the coming battle. A spot in the central body of the defence force. Close enough to make a dash for the North Gate, should the Left Flank collapse and gate need reinforcing, but right in the thick of the action, so far as Commander Thorn could calculate. There was no one else outside on the wall, only a few watchmen in the nearby tower.

There was no need to be out here. The power of the Ritual Barrier that protected Valhiem prioritised the sky. Every now and then a blast from the enemy Source Cannons, or the pyromancers or catapult fire got through when it came low at the actual city walls. No sense in being exposed, out on wall, increasing your chances of being in the wrong spot at the wrong time and getting hit by a one-off strike.

Zell didn't have much sense. And so he stood alone, feet planted, arms folded, right where he would be in seven days time.

The artillery bombardments had ceased for the last hour. A short break for the enemy. Normal. Zell could only guess that it stretched out the catapult munitions a little farther to have a few small breaks at random during the day and night, while not allowing the mages on Citadel Hill to plan any kind of rest break either. Clever. James said you were a clever old bastard... Saladin, Zell thought. From where he stood, he could plainly see Saladin's forces across the fields. He could see movements. He could hear them.

Of course, it was all just a wriggling mass to his human eyes. Just noise to his human ears. But here on the wall, facing the threat, the fields between himself and them felt tiny. Imagined or not, he could feel the evil. Feel the deadly intent. Feel sharper eyes than his, watching him back.

He was ready.

He slowly drew The Black Sword off his back and held it aloft, the barest trace of a smile on his lips, his green eyes fixed on the enemy camp. There the sword stayed, overhead, pointing to the sky from where Second Chance had come. Saladin? Did your queen tell you that she was begging for our allegiance? Did she tell you that you should fear us? As if on queue, the artillery bombardment started up again.

Then he brought the sword down to point ahead at the imagined foes watching.

...

Whatever business MacKensie had going on with Gildor Hammerfist, it was finished just as Zell came strolling in, the sound of the shopdoor bell ringing to signal his arrival.

"Oh, alright Mac," he greeted with surprise. "Fancy seeing you here. Alright, Gildor."

"Hmmm, you again," Gildor greeted with the enthusiasm of a depressed donkey.

"Remember me?" Zell grinned.

"How could I forget," was the reply. Gildor looked at MacKensie. "You two are from the same party? Quinity have mercy, I should have known."

"Ha," Zell smiled at MacKensie. "You annoying my good mate, Gildor?" Gildor interjected to correct the record that they were not friends. Zell ignored it. "You buyin something?" he MacKensie instead.

When he had a chance to speak to Gildor, he would tell him that his alcohol budget would not leave room to buy the shield he intended, so he would get the cheap buckler he'd seen instead. The small, round shield was terrible for absorbing physical damage, and would crumble under the pressure of a strong strike from a well-made sword, but it's purpose was not for regular combat. It was actually capable of deflecting a portion of mediocre elemental attacks and even fully blocking spells from weaker mages.

"How did your day go, then?" Zell asked MacKensie. He hadn't seen her all day. "Did you get a good crop of fighters?"

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

rayliotta.gif

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

@Xenonsorry about the wait lol better late than never, though, eh?

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

"If something is bothering you, you'll only make it worse by overthinking;"

Zell lingered on those beauitful blue eyes for a moment before letting out an amused snort, then relented with a tilt of his head. "True." The problem was that overthinking wasn't a choice, right now. He wasn't even sure if all the thoughts he was having were actually his own or some crazy psy-op plants by the Devil inside him. Still, if anyone's cocky smirk could make him feel better, it was MacKensie's. It, surprisingly, suited her so well. "Thanks doll. Not sure what I'd do without you."

He nudged her with his elbow in return, gave her a smirk of his own, then turned his attention to the inside of the Military Centre they had entered, looking around at the place before eyes landing on Vice Commander Jeremiah.

...

The Englishman walked up to his hundred-man block who saluted.

"At ease, Lions," he said casually but loudly. It was decided right then and there: They were The Lions. He didn't care if they had a name already. In fact, he wished someone would try to tell him that they went by something else. "Do you know who I am?" he looked into the eyes of as many soldiers as he could. The question was rhetorical, but he left a pause anyway. "I am a member of the Adventurer Party; Second Chance."

The reaction made it clear to Zell that enough soldiers had already heard of the them, which was perfect, because it would only take a handful to corroborate and spread the word throughout the garrison, in the days ahead. By Fight Time, the whole place would know the name.

"Also known as, The Heroes from the Sky, summoned by Emperor Quintus Young from another universe, who landed in Mytheria to the South just in time to save the village of Hommas and steal classified secret technology from the enemy." Zell moved off his spot and started to slowly move about. He started off just pacing back and forth in front of his soldiers, but eventually started to move through the ranks, his vocal projection good enough to capture the ten-by-ten block of infantry. "Also known as The Slayers of Aurok the Maneater." That one hit nicely. "Also known as the gang who's very first official act as a registered party of the Adventurer's Guild was a Gold Class contract that freed an entire region of Northern Central Mytheria... while being tailed by one of The Witch Queen's best assassins. We killed him, by the way." He stopped and placed a hand on one man's shoulder. "I cut his head off."

Zell strolled back through the ranks to the front again.

"Me?" he continued loudly. "Zell Brooks, Front line Fighter and Weapons Specialist for Second Chance. I know everything there is to know about infantry tactics, melee combat, every weapon, every swing, every stab... Why: I'm practically Ares him-fucking-self in human form." He put his hand on his hips and smirked evilly.

[[[After Image]]]... the soldiers were now looking at the perfect visual of hands-on-hips smirking Zell, until he got their attention loudly.

He was behind them.

"There might aswell be two of me, I'm that damn good."

The infantry unit turned around in amazement to see him, hands-on-hips, smirking - a perfect mirror of the fake image at the head of the block.

"Teleportation?" was a quiet but incredulous comment.

"Only the Wellsprings can offer that kind of power," was another.

He strolled back to the front, through his ranks, the one's closest taking a step aside to make way. Many jaws were dropped - eyes wide.

"We Lions are officially, now, the best block in Valhiem's garrison!" he declared. "Do. You. Get me!?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"There will be no fucking 'Sir's' from now on. And no more salutes either. I am not your superior. I am your brother. A Lion just like you. We are family, now. All of us. You will call me by my name; Zell. Or Captain Brooks, I'll also accept, if you absolutely fucking must. Instead of, 'Sir, yes Sir,' I want you to to roar like a Lion. Oorah! Let me hear it!"

"Oorah!"

Zell was getting hyped off his own BS, getting all gym broey and flexing that low, fists-together arms-n-shoulder-muscles pose. "OORAH! LET ME HEAR IT!"

"OORAH!"

"Nice," his voice came back to normal. "As I said; The Lions are officially, now, the best block in Valhiem's garrison. Not just because of me, either." He looked around and picked at a man at random. "You... where in the city do you live?"

"Cordon Street in the southeast quadrant, si- I mean, Zell, si- I mean... Captain."

"Your parents born here?" Zell asked. He got a yes in reply. "Grandparents?"

"Err... I think so."

Zell was satisfied and nodded, then started slowly pacing again. "Three generations, at least," Zell said, gesturing to the man. "The blood runs deep." And there was his first word. "Blood! The blood of the people, past and present. The blood of the future. That's what we fight for." He threw his arm up and pointed outside the grounds. "Those scummy, evil fuckers out there...? What do they fight for, eh? What do they have to lose, if they lose this battle? I'll tell you what... FUCK ALL! - that's what." Then he smiled and opened his arms to them all. "And that is why we will win, brothers. I've seen it. It's already written. We need only fulfill our end and fight with all our heart."

"Oorah!" one man's voice among them, prompting a second,

"OORAH!" from the Lions. Zell was pleased.

"This land. This soil underneath our feet, was probably once just that... soil. Soil and some settlers' dreams. And now look at it. Look at what's built. Civilisation. Community. Culture. Tradition. All from this fertile soil. This is what we fight for. Because it will be fucking GONE for good, if we don't. This is our land! Our home! Our SOIL!"

"OORAH!"

"Lions. Let me hear you roar; BLOOD AND SOIL!"

"BLOOD AND SOIL!" was the chorus

"BLOOD AND SOIL!" Zell roared back as he paced, snarling at the front ranks.

"BLOOD AND SOIL!"

"We are invincible, Lions. It is written. Our time has come to grow up and fulfill our destiny. To be the heroes of this era." {'...noble...'} "Noble." {...dignified...} "Dignified. And in a thousand years, they we teach about the first city to successfully repel The Witch Queen... about the first time The Empire bloodied the nose of it's greatest threat. They will teach about The Lions that roared on the walls of Valhiem!"

"OORAH!"

"Sergeants," he called out. "Let's get some work done. Combat training. Pair up according to experience level. Let our Lions show their claws."

The Sergeants got to work with gusto and efficiency. Pretty soon, The Lions had their own space in the yard and were sparring. Zell walked among them, making adjustments, giving advice and showing off his deep knowledge of combat to even the most skilled pairs of sparring partners. It wasn't long before he halted the entire session and called for attention.

"Brothers," he started. "We will be fighting on a wall. Space will be hard to come by. Accuracy will be required. Energy conservation for a long and drawn out battle will be essential." With that understood... "I want to see minimal movement. Efficient actions. Tight footwork. Try not to move off your spot. More stabs. Keep your arcs small - No wild swings. Let's go."

And they were off again, Zell continuing to coach. Spotting those he knew he could depend on to be on the flanks. Spending more time with the noobs who had been drafted upon the emergency of the siege. He gave pats on the back and high fives often. Instructed his men and women to do the same for eachother whenever a good landed hit was scored. Arms around the shoulder. Reminders to call him Zell and not Sir. The Englishman was doing his best to completely deconstruct the standard military discipline that was instilled in them, so that they could become... well... basically, a sports team.

They would be different to everyone else: Unique. Their language would be their own: Oorah. Their behaviours would be their own: Family. And in this, Zell hoped they would find a strength of hope, an illusion of grandeur and the courage of a zealot. Togetherness. Absolute faith in him. Invincibility.

According to the odds and the atmosphere, they would need something more than the garrison could currently offer, so why not shoot for the stars?

Typical Zell Brooks. But maybe not quite so typical as usual...?

Maybe.

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

Zell stayed off Citadel Hill this morning. He wasn't interested in making himself a nuisance for the guards.

This early morning exercise was a test of the limits of his Ascended strength. The results were extraordinary. One-armed pull-ups - Suprisingly doable. Handstand press-ups - Relatively easy. Upside-down hanging sit ups - No problem.

He needed to find a gym, at some point - Lift some real weight. This power was insane. Question was, was it all just Ascension? Or was it Baphomet?

He got back to the Mended Drum at around 7am, no usual dumb grin for his friends. Just a neutral 'Alright mate' for any greeting. A straight-face. A quiet demeanor. He'd been on auto-pilot since he awoke, his thoughts pulled all over the place... none of them in a happy or positive direction. His shower was five times longer than usual, causing Frederick to mistime the Englishman's breakfast (Not the innkeeper's fault, of course, Zell was usual up, in, out and downstairs in less than fifteen minutes.) He added a little to the conversation among his friends at breakfast, gave eye contact and showed a base-level attentiveness, but he definitely lacked the jovial and confident present-mindedness he normally had. He wasn't moody. He was just 'elsewhere' in his head and not doing the best job at hiding it. And wow; he wasn't even first to finish his food!

The messenger almost came and went without his notice. He just about saw James giving a nod to the goverment official before the man from The Citadel departed. Second Chance's leader relayed the message to the gang - a summons for each of them. Seems as though it was time to get the offical promotion to Captain of the Garrison. Although Adam had been given a seperate summons to Golden Tree Park, and James to the Citadel. Zell could guess why for Adam, that one was obvious, but James' individual instruction was interesting.

"I'll go get my gear on," Zell told Fenna and MacKensie, who'd also been summoned to the Military Centre. "Back in a sec."

...

On the walk there, he had to admit that he was relieved to be away from James. How ridiculous was that?! Baphomet had really fucked up his head with this bullshit narrative that Zigmund was was biding his time, within James, to make a move for revenge. Zell knew, truly, it was all BS, but he couldn't stop thinking about it... about that 1% chance that Tin Can had the actual power to override his best friend. Still... bullshit, for sure. What was more substantive was that he owed James an apology for the performance at the Thieves Guild, but Zell being Zell (foreign to the uncomfortable feeling of remorse) and James being James (pretty laidback and cool enough to not make a big deal about it, but smart enough to know that Zell had done him wrong, however big or small that 'wrong' was,) Zell had lacked the courage and decency to take the initiative and just say something to his best friend.

Speaking of apologies; the woman walking beside him kinda deserved one too. It was actually James who'd done all that crazy shit, that night, while looking like MacKensie, so from one perspective, one could say the cleric was the one who had done wrong. But then there was another perspective and that was; James was drunk and probably forgot who he looked like. Zell was the one who could clearly see the disguise and was, all night, in a position to remind his friend of this fact and pump the brakes on the increasingly wild night. So all of this wasn't just on James. Zell was just as culpable.

And if Zell wasn't man enough to take accountability for his actions, even with his close friends, how could he possibly take steps towards being the hero that Mytheria needed, and not just some fool with a Source Crystal's worth of power?

"Makes sense that they'd spread us out as Captain's of soldiers, rather than let us fight as a party," he said, at one point, trying to rid himself of the air of 'mood and brood.' He glanced sidelong at his friends as he walked in step with them. "The difference in power between even a well-trained soldier and a silver tier adventurer must be huge. Remember those ambushers outside the temple. They lost their element of suprise and we wiped the floor with them in seconds, without a scratch." They turned a street corner, the oppressive ambience of a city unsure of it's survival past next week... it was palpable. Citizens eyed them overly long as they passed. Not out of malice - out of hope. Out of desperation. "We'll be more useful to the defence, this way. And I know that we have the ability to lead. Each of us can do this job. I believe in you both."

Though he was talking for the sake of talking, just to halt his intrusive thoughts, he was not talking crap. He truly believed in them. Fenna was a natural when it came to making tough decisions with clarity under stress. MacKensie was a bright light of righteousness and will power. They could lead, for sure.

As for himself, Zell had no qualms or doubts about being able to lead. For Zell, the questions were not ones of capability - what he doubted was his worthiness.

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

James was thick-skinned enough to not make the walk back to The Mended Drum awkward. Both he and Zell even cracked a little banter along the way. But in the back of Zell's mind, something resembling a conscience - weak as it was - was niggling at him. It had all started, at The Thieves Guild, when the beer got flowing and Zell decided that he wanted all the boisterious and dodgy energy in the room. Typical Zell fucking Brooks. And this time, it was at the express expense of his best friend. No 'Out' for the polarizing rogue, this time. No, "Oh shit, I wasn't thinking," or no, "Silly me, I forgot about that."

Nope.

He'd just been told by James, some ninety minutes beforehand, that the cleric was dealing with a complete absorption of the memories, emotions and personality of their enemy, Zigmund Mugba-Zarak. And he decided to celebrate in front of a bunch of strangers, the death of said enemy. And he'd realised too, what he was doing, less than two minutes into his performance, when trying to drag James into it - he realised that he was putting his best friend in the most awkward emotional position in the world. But Zell had let the atmosphere and attention drown out respect and consideration for his comrade - the man who had just pledged to help him deal with Baphomet, and to keep his secret. To have his back, the way a friend should - and Zell being Zell, carried on, full steam ahead.

First MacKensie. Shit, at least regarding her gripes with him, he could say that it didn't even occur to him, in the moment, the ramifications, or that anything bad would come of it. Now it was James feeling the burn of Zell simply not giving two fucks about anyone but himself.

Niggling niggling, but hell, the Englishman wouldn't let it show. The buzzed bants continued until they were back in the inn they called home.

"One more?" Zell asked, before he and James parted ways. "Alright, bruv, catch ye later." He nodded to Frederick as he took a stool, pausing before his bum hit the seat to get back up and declare, "We're gearing up to win a battle and show the Witch Queen what's what! Lift your heads and throw your fears in the gutter. Round for the house on me! Give us a war song, lads."

There was barely a reaction, but the musicians did play something different. Zell didn't know if it was a war song or not. He didn't care. None of his bravado gave him any company... he was left alone with that crippled little thing people called a conscience. Well, there was at least one person he could bring in for company and that was the man who was collecting a gold piece off of him. He sipped half of his beer before he said anything.

"I'm a piece of shit, Fred," he started. Fred was taken a little by surprise, but took it in stride and started buffing down the bar near Zell with the towel that'd been over his shoulder.

"You seem an alright lad to me, Zell."

"You know what I did in my last life? Under the guise of a student, I filled the academy campus with contraband." Fred raised his eyebrows. "Anyone who tried to do even a fraction of the same thing, I set my dogs on them. Anyone who failed to pay me got similar treatment. Very persuasive. And of course, I was insulated. Hands clean. Popular all around the campus. Captain of the football team. I used everyone close to me - people I called friends." Zell took another swig. Fred was unreadable. "I died in a traffic accident before I landed in this world. You could call it a coincidence, but I'm starting to think that fate was just excising a cancerous fuck out of the universe."

Everyone in Second Chance he considered a friend. But James and MacKensie were closer than that. And here he was in a second life, with a 'second chance' doing the same old selfish shit that Zell Brooks was known for.

"Just today, I considered trying to set up a contraband distribution network in this world." He caught Fred's cautionary look and waved it off. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna. But it's like... just the thought, ye know... shows that I've not changed at all. I'm supposed to have a fresh slate. New life. Source Crystal. A Hero." It is not cringey... ...It noble and dignified. Zell shrugged. "How can I be a hero if I'm about as far from noble and dignified as the fucking cretins outside the city walls, right now."

While Fred served customers, Zell moped in his own world. Fred did come back to him though. "Listen lad, you're not so far gone that you can be compared to the evil out there. And if you can recognise what's wrong, then you've taken the first step. You can save yourself. I've heard worser crimes from men sat in that stool there than you've spoken tonight. And I keep it to myself because it's none of my business. But trust me, you're a big, strong lad, with a big strong backbone... use it. Instead of crying like a little girl." Zell nodded as he looked at the barman who nodded back and held his gaze. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Zell agreed.

"Your friends... you care about em?" Zell nodded. "Well, that's not enough. I hate to say it, but you have to want to change... for you."

Zell thought about it. Did he want to change? He wanted his friendships. He wanted to help protect this world that he now had to live in. But did that mean he wanted to change for his own sake?

...

Zell found himself, quite expectedly, stood in a familiar void of impenetrable and unending darkness.

"Ugh... I'm not in the mood for this," he groaned, letting himself fall backward onto his back. But he did not hit any kind of floor. In fact, the entire void seemed to rotate around him so, while he did fall backwards, he ended up still standing. Just now with an additional wave of motion sickness.

"Seems as though you need me now, more than ever." That voice was like metal scraping along metal inside his head whilst simultaneously echoing throughout the void.

"How so?" Zell asked, about as unenthusiastically as humanly possible.

"You took his sword. You took his pride. You took his life." Zell knew where this was going and he didn't like it. "And now he is closer to you than ever before. What would you do, if you were in Zigmund's position?"

Zell tiredly rubbed his eyes. This was a proposition he did not even want to consider.

Baphomet chuckled. "Oh, what interesting tales you mortals weave." His chuckling turned to outright laughter. "He will try to take his revenge. One day from now or one year. And you will not be ready, without me."

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

When James was giving his feelings on his own predicament; the mess of conflict in his mind being present but not trumping his adoration of the group - Zell felt confident that the cleric was being honest and so he gave a satisfactory nod.

"But nevermind that, my issues are mostly handled, yours are not"

"True," Zell replied. "So long as you know that I'm here if you need anything. But with that out of the way... yeah... I'm completely fucked, ell-oh-ell."

Zell couldn't help but snicker. His only course for feeling better about the situation was to make light of it all.

"That sword is an insidious thing and as you have volunteered to carry the curse even throwing it away will just have it find its way back towards you"

"Jeez," Zell remarked. "Seems as though I've found meself in the middle of a horror movie." He shook his head regretfully. If only he'd known what he was getting into. "Fuck."

"It will always feel like you are in control, it won't change your personality, instead, it will exaggerate your bad traits, the worst part is that in the unlikely event that you notice it happening that 'you' will likely decide they are the better version of 'yourself', even if everyone else tells you the contrary"

"Yeah, that makes sense." When James got up, Zell delayed in mirroring him, staring into the water thoughtfully. "I can feel Him searching around my mind. Probing for weaknesses. Prodding soft spots for a reaction. I can stave Him for off for now, He's not exactly subtle. But I can see a future where this constant attack eventually takes it's toll - breaks me down... maybe."

"However!" Zell was taken aback by the sudden change in volume, his brow furrowing and a smile spreading across his face. Bruh. Zell looked around to make sure no one was around, then looked back up to his crazy-ass friend who was reeling off a solution packaged in what sounded like he'd morphed into some fundamentalist christian preacher or something. It was entertaining, in all honesty - Zell stretched his legs out and leaned back onto a hand in the grass, itching the back of his head nervously, but overall enjoying the show. And, of course, listening to the important part; the words that were contained within James' delivery. "Give me 3 days and I will have the ritual ready but Zell, for it to work the affected must be willing to face separation, unless you truly desire getting rid of it it won't work, so what do you say Zell Brooks? Are you willing to be healed?"

"Alright, enough you barmy twat," Zell couldn't take anymore and was laughing loudly. He affected the voice a stereo-typical member of a preacher's flock, his effort to do a southern-state American accent was awful. "Yays, oh ministaw James, shed yo light on me, oh great one. Heal meh."

He got up to his feet to meet James at something closer to eye level, a grin on his face. "Three days, huh? Alright then. I can wait until then, no problem." He yawned and stretched, accompanied by his usual ridiculously loud strain. "Oh, what a weight off my shoulders. Thanks bro. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. Honest."

With everything settled, Zell suggested going for a quick beer at The Thieves Guild. "Just fucking one or two, this time. I'm not up for going on another binge-crawl that leads to jail."

It was a wonderful release of tension to get all these problems into the open. To know that James hadn't broken his own brain by what he did to Zigmund. And having gotten his worries about Baphomet off his chest, not to mention get a possible solution from his friend. And it was fucking lovely to have an ice-cold beer in the rowdy atmosphere of the Thieves' Guild.

Zell and James bumped into Devon, the face-tatted jack of all criminal trades. The Englishman got a round of drinks in for the lads and Devon gave news about how Valhiem's underworld was responding to the siege. Zell kept the Citadel business out of conversation but did end up loudly drawing in a small crowd as he told the tale of Second Chance clashing with 'The Witch Queen's most infamous assassin,' Zigmund the Metal Ninja. The embellishment of Zigmund's standing within the enemy ranks was probably the only thing that was questionable in Zell's telling of the story - there was no need to exagerrate anything else about the battle, it was fantastical enough. And once the swordsman backtracked to tie the whole thing in with the awesome clash with Aurok the Maneater (a tale that had spread around Valhiem and been confirmed by other sources) the crowd of locals, thugs and ne'er-do-wells were fully invested, firing comments throughout. Zell ended up stood on a chair, handling the crowd's heckling with witty comembacks and jokes, and also dragged James into the show as much as the Mexicano would allow.

One or two drinks turned into a few more, but fortunately both James and Zell were cognizant of not getting too wasted, so they knew to pace themselves and also when to stop. It was a fun evening. Much-needed after the last couple of stressful days.

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

Posted!, chunkier than I used to but worth it

@Teyao

rushed one out before the weekend for ye. jump in DMs if you need more info, I'll get on Sunday to reply or get the convo started. I'd do it now but I'm running late.

Have a good weekend, everyone o7

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

Zell scraped up the remains of food on the plate into a neat pile, scooped it up and and shoved the fork in his mouth, then let the cutlery clatter on the dish, leaning back in a little stretch as he munched away. "En-gee-ell, the food around here is pretty good," he said, muffled by a full mouth. "Add one more reason to keep the invaders out," he added, managing to grin while chewing. Thankfully, he swallowed before continuing with his terrible table manners. "Well, I mean, if Saladin's army can prove they can out-do Valhiem's best chefs, I might be persuaded to turncoat."

It was a good job there were no civilians in earshot. This wasn't exactly peak comedy. Topical, sure. Appropriate? About as far as fucking possible from the word.

Quite used to finishing his meals before everyone else, Zell was content to wait patiently for James to finish, but the silence was broken by his friend.

"Hey, do you remember the Blessing James used against Zigmund?"

"?" Zell hesitated for a moment. This was the first time he'd ever heard James refer to himself in the third person. "How could I forget, mate. I'm not sure we could've gotten in close enough for the killshot, had you not rattled Tin Head's brain so badly that he couldn't think straight."

"I never got to explain it did I? Not properly I mean"

Zell thought back to the moments after the fight. Everyone was hurt to varying degrees, but it hadn't stopped Zell noticing that something wasn't right with James. "Been wondering about that," Zell replied, interlocking his fingers behind his head. At least he didn't have to pry now.

"It does not transfer memories, not really, instead it... it makes both entities understand each other, when James used it on Zigmund he didn't get his memories, instead he saw everything, his past, his ambitions, his regrets, his hopes, and he Understood. When the blessing ran its course, I found that I was as much James as I was Zigmund" This was clearly tough for James to admit, and for obvious reasons. It was fucking PSYCHO CRAZY! "Those first hours were rough I admit, I did not- could not accept who I was when they still didn't reach a consensus but that is no longer a problem, it is in the past now and I was able to move on, I am James, I am Zigmund, and I am me"

What in the actual fuck! Zell thought, frozen in his relaxed pose (while literally ANYTHING but fucking relaxed.) He didn't even blink. This was insanity. James had merged with Zigmund, in mind.

Was it permanent? Would this bring any danger to the crew? Was he strong enough to bare this?

Three questions. All of which, he'd asked of himself - verbatim - very recently.

They were both fucked in a very similar way. Different in details, maybe different substantively, but so similar it was like destiny was playing a sick joke on the pair.

"I am saying this to you because you have earned my trust and I hope you can trust in me the same way"

"Damn straight, bruv," he quickly batted back.

"So please Zell, talk to me"

Zell looked around, as he took his hands off his head and leaned in. "I'm in some frighteningly similar shit, mate. Seriously, it's mad you've just said this to me." He subconciously peeked at James' forehead, wondering how the hell Zigmund was in James' skull. "But what do you mean, you've made peace with this? How?" He shook his head. "Wait, hold that thought. Blimey I have a tonne of questions, we need to seriously have a catch up and get on the same page with ALL of this, cuz every detail is important. But... right... me..."

And Zell proceeded to give a summation of his own situation. He did not completely weigh his best friend down in info, right off the bat, but not out of mistrust. He just wanted to first level the playing field. He told James about Baphomet allowing him to unwittingly 'volunteer' a transfer of the curse to himself. He explained that he'd not had even so much as a single peaceful nap since that drunken night on the town when it all began; cutting that statue in half. He explained that he was absolutely terrified that Barracker was going to get all 'Holy Fucking Crusader' on him and give Zell the same treatment that Zell had given Zigmund.

With that basic outline covered, Zell stood up. "Let's take a walk to somewhere a little less crowded, bro. We've got a lot of things to hash out."

...

They ended up at the canalside, sat down on the grass in a big enough area that no one would be able to get close enough to overhear them without them noticing first.

"I imagine you've got quite a bit of information that might be able to help me out, here." Zell gave a little head-tilt. "From being a Cleric maybe, aswell as being... Zigmund- Bro, are you totally sure you've 'Made Peace' with this arrangement in your noggin, right now? Do you know if you'll have to live with this for the rest of your life, or what?" A small part of him suddenly wondered if James was dealing with any resentment due to Zigmund getting killed by Second Chance. "If you're sure, then I trust you, of course - say no more. But we should probably create contingency plans for eachother, just in case anything goes wrong."

THE WAR FOR MYTHERIA - Isekai Adventure

James taking offence to the idea of Zell teaching him a few different ways to attack with his inherited weapon was not the most surprising thing in the world. They were men, after all - it was crazy, just what particular things might hurt any given man's ego. Zell understood. He wasn't immune to that kind of thing, either. He grinned through the moment of silence and scowling from the cleric.

"Come on, bro," Zell went on, deciding to offer up something self-depracating to even the score. "Ninety percent of my role, in this party, is to be the enemy's punching bag. At least give me a chance to be a bit more useful, when I have the opportunity."

When James deflated and accepted, Zell was a happy man. Catching Adam's attention be drawn over his shoulder, he looked and saw MacKensie had appeared. "Mornin, Mac," he greeted. The response was a clear indication that he was in trouble with the Frenchwoman, which (Zell being Zell) could be for any number of reasons, but the fact she'd also given James the same death-stare, at least narrowed the possibilities down. In the time it took for MacKensie to leave the building and Zell to quirk his eyebrow at James, it occured to him what the answer might be. "Shit." The real question was; How much does she know? Because Lucy had spilled the beans, but Lucy only knew about a small part of that whole night. This could be bad... or worse... much worse.

Zell covered his eyes as he rubbed his brow, feeling a little bad but unable to take the smile off his face. When he was done failing to show any remorse (she was gone, so it didn't matter much,) Zell decided to tease James about it, albeit somewhat coded-ly. "Hey man, I dunno this Sillagy gal," he said, feigning to leave his friend to hang out to dry alone. "Nowt to do with me."

He chuckled. Of course, the two friends were in the shit, together. Zell was loyal enough to accept half the blame for the Guildhouse ban. And the carousing with local criminals. Oh, and the Grand-Theft-Horse... and the running from the law, jail time and criminal record.

This could get uglyyyyyy.

“Huh, MacKensie seems upset. Would either of you know why?”

Zell looked at Adam, then back at James and showed gritted teeth. This simp has the sense of humour of a sheltered choir boy, the swordsman tried to psychically transmit to his best friend. We tell him and he'll rat faster than a ninja-turtle's sensei.

Then back to Adam. "See no evil, n all that, mate." He shook his head to assure the young man that it wasn't worth pursuing, and hoped James would follow his lead. Luckily there was a great change of subject presented. "Frederick! My man!" the innkeeper placed his food down and Zell thanked him again, then put all his attention on the complete destruction of his second breakfast of the morning.

...

"Fuck me, bro, how have you got the strength to throw this thing about so easily!?" Zell said as he handled James' anchor. "Christ."

Zell got to grips with the weapon, and after finding out that James could summon strength through magic, better understood the Mexicano's limits and what Zell should show him.

He talked him through the correct foot-placements and anchor placement for best accelaration of first swing, and good ways to chain together attacks in two and three-hit combos, using downward strikes to end chain-attacks, where the floor could instantly stop the momentum of the anchor and allow the cleric to reset his stance or switch to magic quickly and effectively.

"Always start with the chain kept short, for a tight first-swing. Step backward or to the side, the opposite way to the direction that the anchor's going, to pull the momentum back quickly behind you so you can attack again.

You can let the chain longer mid-swing once you have some speed, but bare in mind; it takes a bit of practice to land accurately. Although if you get the hang of shortening and lengthening the chain during a fight, that practice will pay off a tonne, bruv, coz you only need an enemy off-guard once and they are mince meat."

They went through some drills, Zell trying to not be absolutely amazed at how far his Weapons Knowledge went. I could have sworn it was just swords and swordsmanship, back in Hommas. But then, by the time they all made it to Valhiem with the cube, Zell knew a bunch about what made an effective infantry unit, military formations and field battle concepts like momentum, morale and regiment manoeuvres. And now I'm an expert with a bloody giant anchor!

The boost to his natural athleticism was increasing too. He was much stronger, tougher, faster and more coordinated than before. In Hommas, he KO'd himself after getting flung into a wooden gate. But some of the hits and damage he'd taken since then had been much worse, yet only slowed him down - force of will keeping him pushing through all barriers.

He told all of this to James when they eventually decided to take a break and go and grab some lunch at an open-air taverna. "...I mean, I still would've liked a fucking lightning beam," he half-joked. "But I really can't complain. We've got a solid mix of Adventurer Classes in our party. They fit well with eachother. And of course, we all work well together too." He took a bite and chewed as he thought that now was probably the best chance he would get to bringing himself to share this 'Baphomet problem.' But should he? The consequences could be disastrous. And was it really a problem...? Having a fucking incredible power? "I trust your leadership. Hell, I trust you with my life. You're like my best fucking mate, in this world. It's like I've known you all my life." (Funny that this was actually true. In this second life, he had, literally, known James all his life. And maybe that was also partly to explain for the rapid bonds he'd developed with the group.) "Feel like I could confide in you about anything. Which..."

This is a fucking gamble.

"Err..."

Don't. Don't do it. You've got it handled. Have I? Yes. Zell was struggling, and he couldn't even look James in the eye at this point. You're in charge of Him. Not the other way around. He is stuck with You. Not the other way around. Don't show weakness. You've shown enough of that already.

At this point, even with Zell's gigantic ego, he was at least smart enough to have a scrap of doubt, but his ego started to win over.

"Ah..." still struggling. "...nothing, mate. Never mind."

Fuck.