(Valhalla Library Before Round One)
"I'm sorry, you want me to what?" Johannes asked. He was sitting on his favorite couch with a few books beside him. On the other side of the ornate marble coffee table, sitting on a matching couch, was Susano'o. He had a ceramic cup in front of him on the coffee table, steaming green liquid filling the air with a soothing aroma.
"I want you to fight my student, Futsunushi. Don't worry about how it'll happen on my side; I'll make it happen. Originally, I volunteered alongside my two students, hoping opponents would be selected that would be worthwhile challenges. Once I saw the Rosters, I knew you would be perfect for Futsunushi. My ideal battle will…have to come later." Susano'o said.
Reginleif floated behind Susano'o's couch, placing books back onto shelves through her powers. Occasionally, she would look out the corner of her eyes at the two. "No," Johannes said. "I've had enough wannabe teachers send wannabe students to learn under me or fight me only to try and steal my teachings."
"You misunderstand," Susano'o said. "I have learned from you everything I ever wanted."
A murderous aura began emanating from Johannes. Reginleif dropped her books in shock, and Susano'o's eyes widened. "You stole my teachings?"
"No! No!" Susano'o said, smiling nervously, placing his open hands in front of himself as if bracing against the air. "I was enamored with it, but was never allowed to interact with you or any human during my exile. I could only observe in secret due to my sister's decree." Susano'o placed his hands on his thighs and bowed deeply. "I am sincerely sorry, Meister. In my enthusiasm, I failed to respect your wishes and learned from you without your blessing."
The aura shrank before vanishing. Johannes sighed. "It's frustrating, and I don't understand the situation with your sister, but I won't hold it against you. But you misunderstand, I am not here to fight for personal glory. The Gods are threatening humanity; if they win, humanity dies…and swordsmanship with them."
Susano'o raised his head and locked eyes with Johannes. "I know. As much as I hate it, I know. My exile took my vote away, and I could have done more to inspire love for humans among my people, but my love for swordsmanship and its creators…was deemed a corrupting influence that clouded my judgment." Susano'o reached for and picked up his teacup, taking a quick sip. "Who made this?"
"Reginleif did. Contrary to her stoic persona, she's rather sensitive and puts a lot of effort into things like that." A book flew past Susano'o and towards Johannes' face. Johannes' hand snapped into the air, catching the book well before it reached his face.
"It's delicious, Reginleif! Thank you!" Reginleif turned away, hiding her slight blush. "Anyways, back to Futsunushi. I don't want you to fight him, intending to lose. I want you to put your all into killing him."
Johannes squinted at Susano'o, then looked down and sighed. He reached down for his tea, staring quietly at his reflection. "He's stagnated, hasn't he?" He asked. He took a small, quiet sip.
"Both of them have. My disciples are just at the point before mastery. They're dedicated to it, obsessed with it even…but they're scared of what they must do to reach it and what comes after."
Johannes sighed. "What a frustrating point."
"Yes. I will not deny it; I am being extremely selfish. Always have been. My selfishness cost me my voice in the council, and now it wants to pit Futsunushi and Takemikazuchi against you and another of the…Einherjar?"
"That's what Brunhilde calls us, yes. Must admit it fills my heart with a little pride." Johannes said, smiling softly.
"Meister Lichtenauer, I want swordsmanship to survive. If you win, Humanity is one step closer to survival. If he wins, Futsunushi will finally claim mastery, and we three will preserve swordsmanship for the ones who will come after Humanity." Susano'o leaned closer to Johannes. "Swordsmanship will never die."
Johannes leaned back into the couch. "You are selfish, but…that's not always a bad thing. If it happens, I will fight your student. However, there's one possibility you didn't think of."
"What is it?"
"What if I win, but Humanity loses?"
Susano'o beamed. "I'm too optimistic to believe that will happen! Swordsmanship was born from Humanity's will to stand up against stronger foes. That will…shall carry Humanity to victory."
Ha! Susano'o, you brat! You failed to tell me how stubborn this one is! Johannes thought.
Futsunushi drew his sword and lowered it to his right side. On his left, he flipped his scabbard to point the end up. "Futsu-ryū Third Kata; Warm and Cool," Futsunushi said. Futsunushi dashed towards Johannes. Johannes returned to the Alber stance, waiting to counter. Futsunushi reached his range quicker this time, but Johannes anticipated it; his position at the top of the porch gave him higher ground over his opponent. Futsunushi would have to overcome the disadvantage to make his new technique meaningful.
Johannes raised his langes schwert straight up to Futsunushi's chin again, but he stopped just before he ran into the blade's trajectory. His abdomen open, Futsunushi fired a quick stab at it. Johannes quickly pivoted to the left, catching the stab on his sword's strong and redirecting it past him. As he began to turn back to face Futsunushi, the hair on his neck stood up. Through pure instinct, Johannes ducked at rolled to Futsunushi's left. He felt the displaced air of Futsunushi's left swing barely miss the back of his skull. Now positioned at Futsunushi's left, Johannes stepped forward with his left foot and aimed a stab straight at Futsunushi's left eye. Futsunushi twisted to the left, catching Johannes's blade and diverting it past the left side of his head. Within that same twist, Futsunushi performed a compact slash with his katana aimed at Johannes' torso. Johannes kicked off with his left foot and jumped away, the cut missing his stomach. He managed to land back in his stance and waited for his opponent. Futsunushi went back into his stance. The distance between the two is smaller than the start of previous exchanges. The two took stock of the others' injuries: Futsunushi's bruised and bloodied forehead, bruised philtrum, ribs, right shoulder, and chin; Johannes' heavily battered torso.
It was then that something caught Futsunushi's eye. On Johannes' left sleeve, a tear caused by an earlier blow appeared, clinging to his arm. What surprised him was not the cut itself, but Johannes' bicep under it. "Wait a minute!" Futsunushi said. "Explain that!" He pointed to the tear.
"Explain what?" Johannes asked. "Besides, it's rude to point."
"Don't change the subject. Explain that."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Johannes said, smiling.
"You're jacked under that fancy shirt, aren't you?" Johannes said nothing, trying to hold back a sly smile. "All that 'feeble old man' crap from earlier was a trick! You've been holding back, too!" Futsunushi's temper began to rise.
"Sorry, Futsunushi, but you're wrong. Behold!" Johannes sheathed his sword, then grabbed his left sleeve with his right hand and pulled. After a bit of struggle, the sleeve eventually tore off, revealing his wrinkled and bony arm.
"Wha…"?
Johannes then drew his sword and took the Alber Stance. His muscles began to grow and regain their definition. "I am using this Völund to ensure you face the strongest version of me. Be honored, Futsunushi! No one has ever fought me at my true Prime!"
"His true Prime?" Göll asked.
"Reginleif's ability granted by her name 'Power-Tracer.'" Brunhilde explained. "Reginleif's ability scanned Johannes' history, and when activated, grants him the physical and mental prowess of all his theoretical peaks. He now has the strength of his youth and the experience of his golden years. Johannes is, without a doubt, a powerful swordsman even in his old age. The fact that he's here in Heaven with this state being his Golden Age proves it. However, he's the kind of man who's still young at heart and refuses to let his age hold him back."
"So he's now at his strongest in everything?"
"Close, Göll. Rather than say Johannes is in his Golden Age or Golden Years, what we're seeing now is his Golden Era, hence the Völund.
Chronicle of the Sword Master
His multiple peaks and experience combined with this Völund have created a Johannes Lichtenauer no one has ever fought or seen before." Brunhilde crossed her arms and smiled. "We have witnessed the birth of a Sword Master many only dare to become or write about in stories."
"True Prime?" Futsunushi asked.
"Exactly. This damn place acts like this old body of mine is my 'Golden Age.' More like my 'Golden Years.'" Johannes spat on the ground. "I call nonsense. With this handy Völund, all the peaks of my life culminate at one point, creating the ultimate body and mind. Do you know what this means for you?" Futsunushi tilted his head to the side in confusion. "You have the ultimate opponent in front of you, Futsunushi. And it would be such a shame for you not to make the most of it." Johannes said, smiling deviously.
"Wait…that means you weren't fighting at your fullest, either!" Futsunushi shouted while pointing at Johannes. "That's the pot calling the kettle black!"
Johannes laughed. "You're right. I'm sorry about that. I let my ego get the better of me. I won't allow it to disrespect you again." A powerful and heavy aura emanated from him. His stare intensified as his pupils dilated. "Come at me, Futsunushi. I'm old after all. Do you want to win by 'natural causes?'"
Chills ran up Futsunushi's spine. The reality set in. The opponent in front of him for most of the fight has been fighting him at full power, a level no one else ever got to contend with. Such a thing almost seemed unfair. And he had this fight all to himself. An aura burst from Futsunushi, clashing with Johannes'. Futsunushi placed his left foot in front, pointing his scabbard at Johannes, his smile nearly contorting his face from pure joy. "Don't think I will." Futsunushi stayed right where he stood.
"No?"
"Exactly. I've been running all day, and honestly? I'm tired as hell. I'd rather take a page out of your book this time…'Sensei.'" Futsunushi sneered as he 'honored' Johannes with the title.
"Well, aren't you just the respectful type? Well, since good teachers learn from their students…" Johannes sheathed his sword. One second passed, and Johannes drew his sword and vanished; the ground where he stood was broken up from the dash. Futsunushi looked down and saw Johannes glaring at him, right in the middle of a one-handed stab. Was what Johannes used part of Harnischfechten? Nay! In the realm of Johannes' style, the langes schwert could be wielded in a myriad of ways. Fighting armored opponents? Batter them with Harnischfechten or stab through links in their chain mail! However, this would no longer work against Futsunushi. He began forgoing his weighted protection for increased speed. This called for a change in tactics…Blossfechten! The art of unarmored sword combat. When fighting a faster, nimble, unarmored opponent, one must fight with a 'long-sword' or a 'short-sword' depending on the opponent's style. Futsunushi's current style brought to mind many opponents Johannes fought before; a simple but effective type of combat that wielded two weapons for simultaneous offense and defense: the sword and buckler. While Futsunushi's scabbard was not a perfect reflection of the technique, it was similar enough for Johannes to use against him. What does one do when fighting an opponent with such weapons? Simple! Move and strike at them from one side to prevent the use of both weapons…or get past the danger zone of both into close-quarters. However, the truth of all this is that the move Johannes just used is not traditional Blossfechten. Rather…it was a near-perfect copy of his opponent's Iaijutsu!
When did he get this fast!? Futsunushi screamed in his thoughts. The thrust, while close, displaced the air around it violently as it sailed towards Futsunushi's solar plexus. Futsunushi jumped back reflexively, parrying the thrust with his scabbard. Johannes rolled his sword around the parry, stepping forward with his right foot and slashing diagonally from Futsunushi's waist up to his right shoulder. Futsunushi could feel the tip of the blade gliding across his torso, cutting ever so slightly into his flesh. Johannes twisted his wrist and began to swing back down. Futsunushi swung his sword in a horizontal slash, the blade aimed right at Johannes' ribs just below his armpit. Johannes let his knees go out from under him, making him dip just below Futsunushi's swing. Rather than continue his cut, Johannes made his play. Using the opening created by his offensive, Johannes soared down. Futsunushi hopped back as Johannes slammed his pommel into the ground, kicking up a massive dust cloud. Futsunushi scanned the site for movement as he landed, sheathing his sword in preparation for an attack. Johannes dashed out of the cloud and appeared right in front of Futsunushi. He stabbed straight up at the soft point between Futsunushi's ribs, right at his heart. Even if five seconds had passed by the point, a dull metal blade with a fine point could still pierce flesh if used correctly. Futsunushi stepped back as he drew his sword. Johannes' stab barely missed its mark as Futsunushi's slash flew towards Johannes' brow. The blade made contact. Despite his efforts to twist his head out of the way, Futsunushi's cut shaved against his temple. Futsunushi quickly twisted his wrist inwards, grasped his katana with both hands as he swung and stepped with his left foot, and cut once more. Johannes caught the slash with the strong of his sword and parried it over his head. He quickly slammed his sword into Futsunushi's chest, then neck, and stepped left to strike down on Futsunushi's right clavicle. Futsunushi caught it on the strong of his katana, parrying it past his and slamming his katana into Johannes' stomach, sending him reeling back. Despite the pain, Johannes kept his sword in front of him and regained his form. Johannes grew a small smile under his moustache while blood trickled from his cut temple.
"What an exchange! Futsunushi's using Fechten! Johannes, Iai! These two're breakin' down the walls of the world with nothin' but their swords! That last exchange was incredible, folks! Neither swordsman is yieldin'!" Heimdall yelled to the crowd.
"Futsunushi!" Johannes yelled. "Don't even try using my techniques against me! Do you think I don't know how to beat my own moves?"
"Couldn't help it, Sensei! Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery after all!" Futsunushi said, returning the smile.
"Ah…that's true! What'd you think of my Iai then?" Futsunushi paused for a moment. He could tell by the shape of Johannes Langes Schwert that it was a sword designed for stabbing and cutting. The blade's straight double-edge made it rather impractical compared to the curved, single-edge of a Katana. Yet…his footwork, technique, strength, and posture were impeccable. Even using a sword outside of its intended use seemed so familiar to the old swordsman in front of him, Futsunushi was forced to face a harsh truth. This man could use his techniques against him, not despite, but because he knew the nuances of the Langes Schwert so well he could accommodate. This realization, along with how the match has unfolded, caused a powerful and painful storm of emotions to swell within Futsunushi. Shame at his arrogance, shame at his disrespect to both his teacher and brother through his sloppy actions, and shame towards the swordsman in front of him.
Futsunushi sheathed his sword. He removed the katanas from his waist sash and his back, placing them both in front of him, edges facing away from Johannes. He then got to his knees and bowed deeply. His forehead and palms both pressed to the ground. "It was magnificent, Sensei. Truly."
"What are you doing?"
"This…what is this!? Futsunushi is bowin' to his opponent!?" Heimdall screamed.
"I have disrespected you, and I disrespected my school with my actions and words. I am sorry."
"I don't want your apologies. I want to keep fighting. This isn't about you, boy. It's about the survival of my species and the preservation of swordsmanship."
Futsunushi's head shot straight up, the look in his eyes penetrating. "Of course it's about Humanity and Swordsmanship! You created it! That's why this must be treated with the respect and dignity it deserves! Because Mankind, not the Gods, reached mastery first! We fell short because we relied too much on our strength and not our effort and skill, and now we must catch up. And to do that you we must defeat you. When else would such a chance come again!?"
"Reached Mastery?"
"Yes! The pinnacle of skill honed through years of blood, sweat, and tears! How many have sacrificed life's pleasures and other dreams to reach it?"
Johannes sighed. He's one of them. He thought. "Futsunushi, rise." Johannes sheathed his sword, his muscles shrinking. Futsunushi stood up, leaving his swords on the ground. The wind blew between them, kicking up dirt. The store's loose wooden window blinds fluttered from the breeze, knocking softly against their window frames. "Mastery…is not a destination or a state of being. It is…the starting point of a whole new journey. Many have tried to reach the start only to fall short, and few walk the path for very long. It's not romantic, and it's more often than not tragic. How many do you think I saw fall short…or die by my hands along the way?" His voice softened as he spoke. Memories from his life returned and came slowly into focus. Futsunushi remained silent, his gaze softening at the somber tone in his opponent's voice. "But you know this, don't you?" Futsunushi's eyes widened. "You figured it out a long time ago…and the idea of what could be waiting for you on the road is terrifying."
The idea of mastery was painful, yet beautiful. Futsunushi always imagined what it would be like. The images he used to envision glory and respect returned. But he was alone in them. Everywhere he looked in them, he was alone. Except behind him. He was too afraid to look behind, knowing what was there. Knowing what may be sacrificed on the way. Who may be sacrificed. "I've come too far to stop, and getting cold feet won't resolve anything. I know I started all this without thinking about what I may pay to achieve my dreams, but I won't blame myself for it."
"Never did any good anyway."
"Ha!" Futsunushi chuckled. "It's heavy sometimes…but 'Meister,' I will continue, even if my heart's not always in it. That's why I hope you will give this fight your all." Futsunushi slipped his left foot under his two swords and kicked them up in the air. He snatched them quickly and put them back on his waist and back.
"Nothing wrong with having days where your heart's not in it, but I'm going to teach you how to fight on regardless. Ready, Futsunushi?" Johannes gripped his scabbard in his left hand.
"Absolutely, Meister." Johannes could never admit it to his opponent, or the people in the audience, but Futsunushi's dream was one he held himself, but not just for mastery, but an even more childish one; to be the greatest Swordsman history could tell of. His youth revealed a budding talent for it, almost enviable in the eyes of his peers and teachers. So much so, it fueled a deep fire in his soul that inspired long journeys across the European continent. Facing language and culture barriers, Johannes refused to let them get in the way of his dream. Through observation, practice, and constant battle, he achieved something close to his goal. Those years of his life spent on the sword became an irreplaceable treasure, but required a terrible price that he failed to realize until his old age. A price he still ponders now and then. Friendships, love, and other opportunities. Was his dream such a thing worth sacrificing all that for? Was Futsunushi ready to do it? This was the only chance he had to confirm it, and it might be too much of a price to pay.
"Sis, why is Johannes acting like that?" Göll asked.
"I can only imagine, but it may be because of what those two sword nuts have in common." Göll stared at her sister, vexed. "Dreams, Göll. That one word drives the two. Every man, woman, and child carries dreams. Even gods. They motivate us to continue when life is challenging. They become the cornerstones of our very existence. Yet…they are monstrous weights."
"Huh?"
Brunhilde inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. The words came to her, but she struggled slightly to bring them to the surface. "Dreams can become the weight we bear to strengthen ourselves, or they become unbearable burdens that crush us. When we achieve them, the truth is we never know if they were worth it. Our dreams…can kill us. Countless souls failed to achieve their grand dreams. Many despaired and lost hope. Then…there are those like Johannes."
"'Cause he achieved his, right?"
"No. He failed. Harder than many in pursuit of his dream."
"But he's the Master of Masters! How could he be thought so highly of after failing!?"
"It's because he failed. He's not the Master of Masters because he's the strongest of them all."
"Then why?"
"It's because to many of those swordsmen and women down there, he's the best teacher they've ever had. He's the Master of Masters because his students who survived his teachings became Masters of such renown that each of them became legends in their own right." Göll stood in silence at the revelation. "And now he has another student to train." Brunhilde scoffed and crossed her arms, leering down at the dusty arena. "Wonder if he can handle it?"
Futsunushi unsheathed his sword and took his scabbard in hand. He connected the kashira of his katana to the opening in his scabbard. A small clicking sound came from the connection. He shook it a little, confirming the connection was secure. "Meister. I know we are swordsmen, but you reminded me of something." Futsunushi said. "Swords are not only a weapon, but the idea. They are such versatile tools that they can become whatever we need them to be at a moment's notice. Hammers, spears, and staffs, but sometimes it's not enough. This form before you is a testament to this. Please watch as I show you the next Kata of my art." Johannes drew his sword and went into Phlug. Futsunushi stepped out with his left foot and brought the impromptu weapon close to his waist, the point aimed forward. "Futsu-ryū Sixth Kata; Jetstream."
Futsunushi crept forward, keeping his form steady. Johannes began to move as well, stepping slowly forward while stepping slightly to the left and right. Swords like the Langes Schwert are at a disadvantage against polearms due to reach, but both fighters knew it did not guarantee anything. Both also knew the first to enter their ideal range would capitalize quickly, and who would likely get there first. Johannes could not let him. The whole time they fought, Futsunushi continued to grow out of his complacency and become dangerous. There were many times he tried to take the victory, but Futsunushi's skill was not all talk. The gap between them continued to shrink, and he knew time was not on his side. Just before Futsunushi could attack, Johannes kicked off the ground and dashed towards Futsunushi. He had to get past the danger zone of the dull blade's point; even dulled, he knew Futsunushi could strike with enough force to kill him.
Futsunushi knew he would try this. Jumping back along with him, Futsunushi jerked his hand back and twisted right, the unorthodox naginata sliding back between his fingers until the Tsuba hit the webbing of his hand. Johannes' stab missed. Futsunushi landed on both feet and crouched. He then stepped forward with his right foot and sprang forward out of the crouch. His body twisted as he exhaled and snapped his hand forward. His naginata flew forward, straight towards Johannes' chest. Futsunushi grasped the end of the scabbard just before it left his hand and lunged. Johannes failed to react, and the blade made contact with his sternum. His whole body lurched from the force of the blow. His sword flew out of his hand as he flew back, falling and rolling in the dirt, landing face down. Had Futsunushi abandoned swordsmanship to deal with Johannes? Indeed! Did that mean he abandoned his style? NAY! Tenshin Shōden Katori Shintō-ryū, the style Futsunushi inspired through Futsu-ryū, is not truly a school that uses one weapon or one technique. Rather, it was one of the earliest schools in the illustrious history of Japanese Martial Arts to emphasize the very thing Johannes taught: versatility. Students of the art are required to not only learn Drawing and basic Sword techniques, but also Short Sword, Two Sword, Staff, Naginata, Spear, Shuriken, and even Jiu-Jitsu! In the Sengoku Era, even Ninjutsu. Strategy and Tactics were taught. It was truly a near-all-encompassing school, and Futsunushi is now showcasing other facets of his style. He knew the sword was versatile, but not perfect. In the countless hours and days of his training, he discovered he had to expand his skillset and broaden his horizons to truly become a Master, just as Takemikazuchi did when he created and honed Sumo. Futsunushi took his naginata in both hands as he ran towards Johannes, separating it and sheathing his sword. He moved just fast enough to clear the distance as the timer ran down. He quickly drew his sword, reformed his naginata, and brought it to his right side, edge-down. He quickly swung upwards, the blade barely skimming across the dirt as it sailed towards Johannes' face. Johannes rolled to the left, the blade clipping his right shoulder as it passed. Futsunushi could not let his opponent get back up. He pivoted off his left foot to face Johannes and slashed again. Johannes could not roll away quickly enough. Rather, he kicked his feet forward and spun, the blade barely touching his beard as it passed. Mid-swing, Futsunushi twisted his naginata edge-down and swung. There was not enough time to dodge again. Johannes was without his sword, and five seconds had not passed. This blow would without a doubt kill him. This was the first time in a long time he felt such desperation, and nothing sparks innovation like it.
The effect of Chronicle of the Sword Master, even without the sword in hand, was still in effect due to the sword being drawn. Johannes' reflexes and strength were still at their theoretical peaks. It was because of this that he could make the gambit even remotely possible. He grabbed his scabbard with his left hand, took it in both hands, and braced. The attack slammed into him like a boulder. He felt the dirt street give way as his body imprinted on it. He had survived, but was pinned. The five seconds had passed, but that did not stop Futsunushi. Futsunushi twisted the naginata edge-up and hooked Johannes' scabbard. He raked it back to open up Johannes for one good, hard stab. The force of the pull lifted Johannes ever so slightly, and he took it. Johannes let go of his scabbard. The sudden loss of resistance caused Futsunushi to lose his balance. Johannes used the momentum to get his feet under him and tackled right into Futsunushi's torso. Futsunushi felt the wind get knocked out of him by Johannes' shoulder, stabbing into his solar plexus, but the old man was not done. Bracing his legs and back, Johannes clasped Futsunushi's legs, hoisted Futsunushi into the air on his shoulder, and slammed him back into the earth. "Zettel 54!" Johannes roared as he flew back towards the ground. Futsunushi gasped for air. Johannes quickly stood back up and delivered a powerful soccer-ball kick to Futsunushi's right wrist. The force of the blow created a popping sound and sent Futsunushi's naginata flying away. Johannes scanned the area and saw his sword and scabbard. He dashed as quickly as he could. The strike from earlier and the fall did a number on his chest and shoulder, and his breathing was starting to get heavy. He scooped up his scabbard mid-dash and full-on sprinted towards his sword. Behind him, Futsunushi managed to get himself up and studied his wrist. His hand was bent out of place, dislocated but not broken. He ran to grab his naginata, picking it up and holding it in his teeth. Biting down, he grabbed his wrist and pulled. The bones reset with a nasty pop, and a jolt of pain erupted from his wrist. Making some quick movements to ensure it could move properly, Futsunushi broke down the naginata and re-sheathed his sword as Johannes did the same.
The two stared daggers at each other. Then smiled. Then chuckled.
"So you're not just a swordsman?"
"I am so much more! I shall never forsake the things Susano'o-Sensei taught me. However…I realized there's still so much I must learn. I love the Sword, but there's only so much it can do. That's why I tasked myself with the duty to learn all I could. That way…I could prove my dedication, and my gratitude…to Sensei, to Set, and Humanity."
"Humanity as well?"
"Sensei made us realize how stagnant we are when it comes to things like this. So few appreciate the effort and skill it takes. That's why my Sensei means the world to me. Set gave me a chance to shine, where so many scoffed at me. And Humanity…showed me that there are things even we have yet to attain." The clothes around Futsunushi's legs, arms, and torso began to tear. They ripped clean through and fell to the ground in heavy thuds, creating craters in the dirt. The air around Futsunushi calmed. The hair band holding his bun in place tore, and hair flowed around him. Futsunushi stretched and hopped a little. He floated ever so slightly in the air with each hop.
"Meister." Reginleif said.
"What is it, Reginleif?" Johannes spoke.
"He's back in full form. It's about to get worse."
"I had a feeling. This whole time he's been fighting handicapped. Not that he wanted to, probably. That Sensei of his is a real piece of work to put his student in such a harrowing situation."
"Haven't you done that before?" Johannes said nothing. "Glass houses and stones, Meister." Johannes chuckled. "Please don't forget. We're fighting to save Humanity."
"Don't worry. I may not be a violent god-killer, but…" He began to glare at Futsunushi, "I have no intention of forgetting my responsibilities." Johannes drew his sword and took Alber.
How long had it been since Futsunushi felt so free? 600? 800 years? Longer? He had grown so used to the weight he felt naked without it. It was always there, reminding him of what he strove for and what he must pay. The loss of it was, oddly, anxiety-inducing. The point had come, the opponent he needed to defeat in front of him. He was finally there! Why then…
Futsunushi dashed and drew his sword, combining it once more with the scabbard to form its Naginata form, now favoring his left side. He did not bother waiting to get close. He had gotten used to the shift in weight from his weapon and decided to go on the offensive. He closed the gap and swung towards Johannes' torso as he stopped his rush. Johannes waited. As he swung, Futsunushi raised his arm, redirecting the slash towards Johannes' neck. Johannes waited. Futsunushi redirected once more, realigning it with Johannes' torso. Johannes drew his sword back into the Phlug stance, ready to parry. But the slash never came. Futsunushi flicked his left hand back, throwing his weapon back into his right. The blade completely missed Johannes, but that was never the intention. Futsunushi had turned his slash into a right twist, taken the perfect stance to once more thrust his Naginata with all his strength to pierce his opponent, flicking to grasp the end of the scabbard once more. Johannes could not parry it in time. Rather, he simply side-stepped to the left. The thrust carried more weight behind it than before, leaving it out in the air for just an additional millisecond or so. Just enough time for Johannes to flick his sword back and catch it by the blade. The thrust could not be stopped. Even if Futsunushi had shed more weight, the one thing he could not lose was the weight of his sword. Katanas are designed to carry their weight over the blade rather than the entire body of the sword. It was meant to aid in their cutting power, but in this case, all it meant was a naginata that suffered from the same drawback. The weight of the blade and the force of the thrust pulled Futsunushi along the path of a powerful horizontal swing from Johannes' makeshift hammer. He could not dodge it; the timing was perfect. He had no choice but to pull his naginata back, place it in front of the hammer.
The edge of the blade collided with the cross-guard…cracked and then shattered. It slowed down the strike ever so slightly, but the force behind it was more than enough to slam into Futsunushi's chest and send him flying. The broken katana flew out of his hands and landed with a heavy thud, which did not go unnoticed. "What?" Johannes said, shocked.
"Holy tarnations, folks! These two Fighters are proving their grit in this match! The pace keeps shifting from one side to the other without pause! However, it looks like Johannes came out on top in this one! Can Futsunushi recover!? Can he even get up?" Heimdall screamed.
Something's wrong. Johannes thought. The attack was perfect. The guard hit Futsunushi straight on. It should have shattered his damn sternum. It was meant to be payback for the earlier attack. Why did it feel like I didn't hit anything? He stared at the broken sword pieces on the ground. Keeping an eye on Futsunushi as he recovered, Johannes determined he needed to find out what was going on. He walked over to a large piece of the blade and reached down to pick it up. He struggled to lift it initially, but managed to get it in his free hand and hold it. This is heavy, and one end of this piece is even heavier than the other!? What's with this weight displacement?
"It's time, Futsunushi." Susano'o said. "Time to use your real sword."
Futsunushi slapped his palms on the ground. The force of the blows launched him back onto his feet, his hair still flowing in the air. A light bruise began to form where Johannes struck him. "Surprised?" Futsunushi asked.
"Won't lie, I am. Even the damn sword was a weight?" Johannes responded.
"Yes, it was. Not nearly as heavy as the other weights, but it was designed with poor weight displacement to make it incredibly difficult to use. Guess once again, you showed how much is still required to beat you. With this being the case, I guess I have no choice but to use my actual sword."
Futsunushi reached back and grasped the handle of his other Katana. He pulled it out slowly, allowing the soft sound of metal brushing against wood to fill his ears. Fully drawn, it looked no different from the other Katana, but Johannes could sense it. This sword was beyond dangerous, and now Futsunushi was completely untethered.
Futsu-no-Mitama
The atmosphere between the two changed. A clear, vibrant image filled their vision. A mountain top sitting above the clouds, the rising sun in the distance. The two of them were alone in pure silence. "So is this what it looks like?" Futsunushi asked.
"Depends on the person, but welcome to it, Futsunushi. Welcome to the start of your journey in Mastery. Now come, it's time for your first steps." Johannes took the Vom Tag guard, keeping his sword edge just above his right shoulder and standing in Futsunushi's way. "Come at me, boy!"