Someone, Somewhere

 Seven days have passed since the incident, the order attempted contacting the victim’s family to no avail. The seventh day mass is being held, the family and friends of the man were present in a cathedral. The somber feeling that death is ever present, but no dread is felt at the moment, only sorrow remains.

A five year old girl cries, her mother holds her hand while she herself holds her tears. 

“...may God bless your hearts through these hard times. And let's all move forward, for life is our gift. I wish you all a good day." The priest ends the sermon.

As they leave the cathedral, the girl’s cries are now just sobs. The widow checks her purse and gets a cigarette, she’s interrupted by a figure wearing the order’s uniform. “Ma’am, may I have a word with you?” Alex stands there.

His expression is serious, and his eyes express a mix of sadness and regret. “What are you going to do? Give me money as compensation? KEEP REMINDING ME HE IS GONE? We just moved… finally with our own house, he got a promotion at his job… now…” The widow rants, recollecting their achievements together, while holding her own tears. 

The pain of loss is an open wound for him as well. This weight is not for them to carry. He just utters the following words. “It’s my fault…”

“...I froze in place, in fear, then, I was angry, worst of all, I was not even a member of the order officially, I still am not, I wear this, but I don’t deserve it. I have slain that dragon, but I was too late!” He points out. His tears pour down against his wishes. “I won’t apologize, I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I won’t promise anything as well… just, I wanted to be reminded of what I fight for. If you want to beat me up. Do it, I hope this makes you feel better.” he continues. 

She clenches her fist and grinds her teeth, then, taking a heavy breath, she whispers to herself “he wouldn’t want this…” Instead, anger becomes sadness as she starts to cry. The tears flow and she hugs Alex. They don’t say anything. 

Later, in the car, her daughter asks “Mommy, if that guy let daddy die, why did you hug him? Weren’t you angry?” the woman sighs and explains “Honey, I am angry at him, but, if we don’t forgive him for the ones he didn’t save, he won’t forgive himself.”

Life, life goes on.

Chapter IV: Someone, Somewhere

 Two blonde men, one with a long flowing hair and other with a short spiked hair wearing uniforms similar to that of the order, but white and gold in color. They watch on a cathedral rooftop a massive wyvern in the distance with a scope.

“Oh, that’s near the abandoned factory, that heathens will take care of them, ja?” the one with shorter hair reminds, sarcastically.

The one with longer hair replies: “Mein Gott Bruder! Let’s respect our deal okay?”

Meanwhile, in the old industrial complex, ruins of what used to be a factory of sorts gets overtaken by nature. The sound of the wyvern reverb through the walls of the complex. 

A scarlet armored knight touches one of the beams, that instantly oxidizes and gets remodeled as a polearm, the knightly figure aims and throws the bar shaped like a harpoon. It pierces the chest with enough force to take down the flying monster, it crash lands right over one of the abandoned factory facilities.

The helmet of the figure remodeled itself, now turning into a crown, revealing a feminine face with blue eyes. She looks towards a man holding a spear, with short hair and a stubble beard, wearing the order’s uniform. “See, easy”, she says.

The wyvern starts hissing and gets up again, the face of the creature was similar to that of a viper, it’s neck alone towers over the buildings, the wings retracts like that of pterosaurs, the monster uses the front limbs to walk.

 With considerably longer forelimbs, than hind limbs, its tail almost drags on the floor. Its back is covered in spiky spines, that expands and contracts as the creature breathes.

“Of course this is not that easy!” She sighs as her helmet closes again, with glowing white eyes she advances. A stream of blood leaves her arms as she extends them, forming a single edged blade in each hand. 

She slashes her obstacles on the way, and jumps around to gain height. In a single leap, she’s above the dragon, she joins her arms and the blades reshape into another harpoon. She prepares to strike.

The wyvern tilts its head backwards, having an upside down look at the knightess, it opens the jaws to strike. Its fangs being the same length as her leg, she has no way of dodging. Precisely before the neck moves to attack, a spear punctures the jugular. The other slayer stands atop the serpent’s neck.

This instant lasts a fraction of a second. The dragon collapses under its own weight, both warriors use the spears as a way to land safely. The woman avoids the spikes and lands on her knees. The armor dissolves as she gets up, retreating into her scars. revealing a frail and skinny figure, she wears a cropped top and tiny jeans shorts.

“Impressive moves, but ineffective.” the man says as he approaches her. “At least those douchebags will leave you alone.” he continues.

She says “I don’t even doubt that they are watching us right now.” 

He takes out a flip phone out of his pocket and dials a number.

The men standing on the rooftop are interrupted by a ringtone, the sound is a sample of a Japanese idol song, the man with spiky hair answers the call. “Rudolf here.” The other man stands up and leaves. Rudolf continues: “Ja! Understood…”

🟆🟆🟆

Earlier that day, somewhere in northern Greece, an old truck was on a road with mountains on the horizon. While old folk music plays on the radio, the driver, an old man, carries his vegetables in the trunk, the path seems pacific, until a thunderous sound echoes followed by tremors. In shock, he stops and steps outside, as soon as he sees what’s the source of the sound.

Clouds gather in 3 united spirals, lightning converges in a single point, and rain down on one of the mountains. In the ground, craters, done not only by the lighting, but by the impact of something else as well.

From the dust cloud formed by the lightning storm, a figure with multiple serpentine heads emerge. Scarred, yet regenerating fast, the serpent slithers away shedding it’s old skin, with new heads growing from scars, the ones that hinder mobility being devoured by the ones aligned with the path of the main body.

“I WON’T LET YOU ESCAPE AGAIN!” a young male voice can be heard. A teenage boy, with spiky brown hair, and covered in bruises, leaps. While preparing a punch.

It hits one of the main 3 heads cleanly, the head's mass is around the size of a horse, the impact with enough force to pulverize the head, sounds like an explosion. The kid is knocked back due to the recoil. 

Soon after, a huge hammer lands on the main body, the hammer, has the proportions of a regular hammer, but with a short handle for it's head size, however, said head is almost as big as one of the hydra’s head. A large tall woman embracing this hammer says “I thought that burning it would be enough!” she exclaims.

“No, we need to find the true head and bury it as well…” the lad replies. “Leave this part to me, take care of the body!” he continues as he takes a stance. He stomps with his right foot, shaking the soil around him. “HAAAAA” he shouts as he goes for a right hand hook, leaving a crater on where he was. In an instant, another impact. This time, separating a neck from the body. The young man growls and roars as he pummels the head against the mountain side.

The woman, still over the hydra’s body, grinds her teeth while she lifts the oversized hammer. Her eyes now pure white, and her face showing an expression of wrath, she chants: “Oh Thor the great warrior, lend me the strength of Mjölnir once again!” 

Lightning strikes the hammer, the woman’s blonde hair now glows with a red tint, her body seems larger and more muscular than before. She lifts the hammer and strikes down, while engulfed by a plasma glow, causing another explosion.

While the boy pushes the head deeper in the mountain with sheer force. “This is the end!” he exclaims as he prepares to land a final attack, the pressure around his fist distorts the light around it, giving the impression that his arm is way larger than it actually is. From the serpent's point of view, the child turns into Heracles, the mythic hero that has slain one of it’s kin previously.

The impact of both strikes carves a hole on the mountain’s side, the peak collapses itself into an avalanche, this battle reshapes the landscape. The woman manages to escape the landslide by sheer force, the hammer shrinks in size, now becoming a small wooden mallet that she straps on her belt.

The teenager is unconscious nearby, yet still breathing. She grabs him, and carries him like a toddler, she’s about 2 meters tall, while he’s around 1,50 meters. She heads towards a nearby road to meet the old man looking flabbergasted on his truck.

The battle was barely visible from where he was, however the brutal strength displayed could not only be heard, but felt. She gives him a warm smile.

🟆🟆🟆

In a castle atop a hill in Malta, an old man with a full beard sits on his desk, “Brief me on the reports.” he says with a deep voice, as he organizes the books and papers on his desk.

“Sir, we got reports from France, Germany, Greece and Brazil.” a woman says while she holds a folder. She has light brown hair that she ties in a braid forming a tiara on, she wears square framed glasses and wears red lipstick and blue eye shadows as make up.

“No reports from the USA this time?” The old man asks. 

“No sir.” she replies.

“Very well, please, continue with the reports.”

“Starting off with France, Viviane reported that someone managed to fight with a winged dragon at a farm. According to her, he has the ability to take a dragon-like form; she arrived when the fight was over.” 

He asks “I trust Viviane’s judgment, but this report was vague. Is there any more information?”

 She replies “No sir.”

He sighs “What about Germany?”

She takes another report and says “Atila wrote this one, according to him, the crimson knight, missing for two hundred years, was found out to be a twenty four year old woman in the Cologne region this time, they took down an abnormally large wyvern. Any remarks sir?”

“Atila is one of the most competent slayers out there, I have no comments about it. Anyway, what about Greece?”

“Yes sir, Margaretta reported facing what was reported to be a fifth rank hydra, but it turned out to be a fourth rank one. She got some help from a local, who showed an outstanding strength performance, but he was sent to the hospital soon after. She sent this handwritten letter of recommendation as well, want me to read it?”

“Just leave it here, I shall read it later.” he replies. “And what about Brazil? They have always been an autonomous branch, what is going on?”

“Sir, it’s a recruitment by exception as well, sir Agenor is the one who made this report. Here it says that… hmm the new recruit is a survivor of an attack 10 years ago… No offensive abilities, but he managed to hold on to a wingless dragon’s fire head on. And… huh…” she pauses while reading.

He inquires, “And?” He raises his eyes and adjusts his posture to look at her directly.

She looks at the report and continues “He fought a slayer named Carlos Kawata, who wields the cursed blade Kegare, and resisted all the attacks without a single wound.”

The elder scratches his beard, “I will not question what led to that showdown, just tell me when the newcomers are arriving.”

“It’s arranged for them to arrive by boat from Italy by evening, in 3 days.” she informs the man.

 He rearranges the papers in his desk and says “Very well, Janis, thank you for informing me, you are dismissed.” She bows down and leaves, closing the door to his desk.

🟆🟆🟆

An airplane with the order’s emblem lands in Rome in the same evening, agents of the order await on the ground, and like clockwork unload the cargo in the plane. Among the crew, Alex and Karasu, both wearing their uniforms, leave the plane as well and join the ground crew.

"So... I guess that kill belongs to me?" Alex says in a teasing manner.
Karasu facepalms, he sighs and says "Well, whatever, all yours."

Alexander's mental counter now marks 00,001 again.