Moonlight Vigil

The monster, unlike others, didn’t rush in at the first glance of its opponent. Perhaps it bore the same kind of intelligence as the animal it represented, but it showed a staggering amount of calmness in its first fight, opting to circle its opponent with its sword forward, occasionally taking a step or two to the sides to keep us guessing.

Duna was the same. Unlike the fight against me, he wasn’t the one to initiate as well. Despite his form being suited for speed, the man was patiently waiting for an opening instead of unleashing his rushed attacks like before. Perhaps both were waiting for that one strike to finish everything in one fell swoop.

In the end, however, the human mind seemed to have trumped. After a few rounds of exchanging stares, the monster started to lose its patience — its eyes glowed more and more blood-red as each second passed. And finally, what had to come indeed came; with a deafening roar, the monster charged forward, thrusting its sword towards Duna.

Of course, that was the opportunity that he needed. A swipe of his staff and the man was able to deflect the sword with no issue, sending sparks in the air in the process. Taking advantage of his momentum, Duna thrusted his staff forward, hitting the monster square in the chest. But that wasn’t all; as soon as he made contact, the man cleverly twisted his wrist upward, turning a thrust into an uppercut and hitting the monster’s chin almost instantly after.

The impact at two places at the same time was too great for it to handle. The monster could only let out a shriek of pain before being blown away by the sheer power of the hit, its sword already dropped to the ground. Duna, sleazebag as he was, took the sword the first chance he could and threw it to me in a heartbeat:

“Here,” he said. “At least you can fend for yourself with this while you’re stuck in that form.”

“Doesn’t this disappear right after the monster is defeated?” I asked. I remembered other monsters having some kind of same-ish weaponry, but none were able to be used — hell, the monsters themselves were never found anywhere, as if they just disappeared without a trace after our attacks successfully destroyed them.

“Eh, better than nothing.”

Of course it was only that kind of answer from this man. I shouldn’t have expected more.

On the contrary to my ever-so-slight hope, however, the battle was far from over. After taking a hit from Duna’s staff, the monster was angered more, but was still relatively unfazed. A blunt weapon wouldn’t be so lethal after all, especially against something as big as this one.

With another roar, the monster charged in again. This time, however, it had no weapons, and so, it chose to rely on its primal source of strength.

Its head was leaning forward, ready to ram into Duna like a true, bonafide bull. But the man was ready for that as well.

“Let us drink the moonlight tonight,” raising his hand forward as if offering a dance, the man sounded.

Immediately, I could see the difference in his movement. It was the same as his battle with me — but this time, since I wasn’t on the receiving end, his footsteps were clear. The man wasn’t moving naturally at all. His steps crossed and twisted, his directions running over one another all over the place, while his whole upper body wobbled from one side to another. It was like watching a drunkard struggling to step forth, but at a speed that could only be described as inhuman.

But that was hardly the most surprising thing about it. As impressive as it was, I knew that there was a form of martial arts called the drunken fist. And while I never got to see it even on TV before, the movements that I saw at the moment matched it pretty well.

No, the trick to this move lay in just what came along with it.

With each time Duna wobbled to a side, I could vaguely see another silhouette of him, completely desynced from his current movement, as if he was in a slow-motion that never recovered into its original speed. Each time he leaned forward, there was “another Duna” that appeared in the back just for a split second. It was erratic and uncontrollable, yet he was steadily approaching the monster with little to stop him.

All the while the creature was still running at him at its top speed. But the crash between the two never got to occur.

As the monster was still on its path, there was a sudden hit to its left ribs. The impact was so strong, I could even hear the cracking sound of bones from my spot. The perpetrator was a steel staff, almost as long as the monster itself, and as thick as its own forearm.

In other words, Duna had hit it. But not “this” Duna. No, “this” Duna was still staggering in front of me like a true drunkard.

Back when he was still making those movements, there were no illusions. Actual Duna clones had appeared from his erratic steps and disappeared into thin air, hiding along the terrain while he kept on distracting his opponents.

He wasn’t fast at all. His true technique was the ability to summon his own copies. And at this point, the copies were proving their worth.

When the first clone Duna appeared, others came as fast as lightning. One, then two, three, five, ten. Soon enough, it was already like a small idol group, and like an idol group, their movements were synced to perfection.

Repeated hits from all directions. As soon as one finished, another stepped up. All used the same iron staff, so their range was impeccable. One strike to the left shoulder, which would cause the monster to react. But as soon as it turned its head around, the right leg got hit. When it was busy covering its left eye wound, the right underarm was the target. Up and down, in and out, the troupe of clones were working like a well-oiled machine.

“What do you think? Cooler than some dumb fire, right?” Before I knew it, the man had already stood next to me, casually enjoying the show that his clones were putting on.

“How many can you create?”

“Ever the practical one, eh? The answer… is that it depends,” pointing towards the sky, he continued. “My Stigma, Soma, is the god of fine wine, plants, and the moon. I can go on forever as long as I have those three.”

“Considering that there’s hardly any plants here, or in Drought for that matter, we can skip that part. I don’t think wine is aplenty either, so…”

I gazed towards the raining sky, and there it was. Even under this perpetual downpour, there was in fact no cloud to obstruct the beautiful full moon shining down on us.

“Time limit?” I continued.

“Do you have to analyze everything?”

“We’re not allies just yet. Of course I have to learn everything I can.”

“And I would just give you the information because? You said it yourself; we’re not allies yet.”

“Precisely why you have to give it to me, don’t you? To establish a good relationship, give-and-take is the norm.”

“And what would you give me?”

“As if Vritra’s power in itself isn’t a good bargaining chip.”

“... I don’t know what happened in the last few days, but you’re starting to act the part. Not bad, kid,” Duna let out a snort under his mask.

“The part of what?” I smirked in return. “A regular person?”

“An evil god.”

As the words left his mouth, Duna stepped forward. In the span of our short talk, the monster had already been beaten black and blue by his clones, now writing in pain waiting for the sweet release of death.

“Well, let’s just finish this already,” said the man, bearing no emotions in each word he spoke.

Spinning his staff, Duna started his chant:

“We have drunk the soma; we have become immortal; we have gone to the light; we have found the gods. Witness the malice of the immortal… Moonlit Soma.”

Soon, appearing along with each of his spins was an identical clone. Once twelve spawned — the same number of hours in a clock — they surrounded the poor beast for its last rites.

The first plunged the staff up in the monster’s belly like a seesaw, pushing it up into the sky. Then each of the other clones followed up with the same upward hit, sending it higher and higher, until it was like it had touched the moon.

Behind the full moon, the real Duna’s silhouette appeared.

“Time’s up.”

And delivered a downward blow with all his might.

A flash of golden light blinded the scene around, and masked within it was a deafening sound of an explosion. Once I came to, there was only Duna left; both his clones as well as the monster had disappeared without a trace… as well as the ivory sword in my hand.

“Come, we’re almost there,” he gestured.

Neither of us commented about it, but my suspicion only became more apparent. Duna didn’t show me that fight for no reason. If it was just to show off his power, he could have done that in many other ways. In fact, I would even dare to guess that the entire fight was staged from the start.

But for what?

There was only one answer waiting for me — the castle on the top of the mountain that we were moving towards. Whether or not it actually held the answer I wanted… that was for fate to decide.