Chapter 4:

Volume 1, Chapter 4: An Unfortunate Encounter

Parable of the Renegades [BETA Version]


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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hi! Jio Kurenai here!

Feel free to leave a comment below whether you got a random question, or if you have any constructive criticism to help me improve! A "Like" would definitely be appreciated too!

Knowing that I have readers can make the sun shine for me on a rainy day! With that being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter! Have a great day! ;D
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Dusk was starting to end.

Confiding his prize money with Rhea before he parted ways with her, Lucas got himself dressed in his plain gray shirt, bloody cargo pants, and shoes as he prepared to leave the clinic and head back to the town of Cameron’s Feint. It wasn’t time for a bus to stop by Moonlight Shores, but at least getting into town was within walking distance.

His shoes occasionally dragged themselves across the pavement as he walked. It was apparent that he needed to get some food in his stomach before getting some overdue time in bed. By his own proclamation, Lucas was a pretty good cook, having taught himself after taking some time to get used to the heat of the kitchen. This time, however, he wanted someone else to do the work for him.

Eventually, he integrated into the small population that walked all over the town.

Cameron’s Feint had a population of about fifteen-thousand, and around Lucas, people were most likely armed and dangerous. Some were obvious, such as those who had massive swords or other large melee weapons strapped to their backs. Notably, those who had their weapons on display looked around his age if not older, possibly because they got to live out the fantasies they had from playing RPG video games. And if the weapons were not convincing, maybe their outfits did the deed. Light armors, such as trenchcoats with small shoulder pads, were quite popular as it made them look like a heroic protagonist. Fancy uniforms were pretty chic, too, with cliques of people wearing the same design or even customized variations of it. Lucas didn’t blame them. Being part of an organization can make a person feel entitled, like they had a sense of superiority.

Most of the older-looking people probably kept their weapons hidden. For example, while a man wearing business attire might appear harmless if not charismatic, a pair of gun holsters could fit nicely underneath his jacket.

The town’s status quo had a notable hole in it. If the Renegades looked just like humans at least on the outside, wouldn’t they have been able to go through the same process of learning how to use weapons as well?

Despite that possibility, everyone kept their weapons in check, only bringing them out for self-defense. Fights hardly started as the masses could jump to conclusions and classify the one who started it as a Renegade whether or not it was true, leaving that person with not the brightest of futures.

Apparently, the Renegades have been keeping themselves well hidden.

Over the many decades ever since their existence first came to light, the Renegades have continued to live low-profile lives with them being more careful in keeping themselves from being exposed. As a result, there were still no official guides or records regarding their capabilities, strengths, weaknesses, and behaviors. Until now, they have continued to blend into society, one that has become paranoid over the potential dangers they may bring.

After walking for a few blocks and considering his options, Lucas took a stopover at Retrospect, a diner that just screamed for the 1950s, starting with the blue and pink neon lights that decorated its sign.

As he took his first step onto the diner’s checkered tile floor, the feeling of stepping into a pocket dimension back in time hit him. The interior was full of color and classic memorabilia with baby-blue titanium tables between glossy and circular red sofas. A line of fourteen rotating stools sat in front of a long counter and a small window that granted a peek into the kitchen. Most of the space on the walls were occupied with posters of timeless movies and classic records, which some referred to as coming from the “Golden Age” compared to today.

Speaking of records, a jukebox was situated on a corner of the diner, playing songs from an extensive library that were all considered popular back then, mostly jazz.

Lucas sat on one of the rotating stools, precisely the one farthest to the right and away from the jukebox. He had no problem with old school music, but the volume was a different matter. The people who sat nearest to it probably loved the blast of music, so turning down the volume was out of the question.

In exchange for distance from the jukebox, Lucas found himself sitting next to a group of friends that occupied the stools on his left. Retrospect had a fair number of patrons at the moment, but that group of friends felt out of place. Every single one of them was dressed in an ivory-white longcoat uniform, and they looked like they were having a meeting. A tavern-themed restaurant should have been built in Cameron’s Feint. It would’ve been a popular meeting place for people like them.

Lucas tried to enjoy his early dinner, a cheesesteak sub sandwich. He took his time, savoring the spicy and juicy flavor of shredded meat, cheese, green peppers, mushrooms, and onions.

While he did not attempt to eavesdrop on the “guild” seated next to him, their discussion was so vocal that trying to ignore them was the challenge.

So, they’re going on a hunt for a Renegade? Lucas assumed. They must be pretty desperate for action if they’re going this far. Well, it’s none of my concern. I just hope they don’t cause too much trouble.

He paid his bill after he finished eating then prepared to return home. From his pocket, he pulled out his smartphone and checked the time, which was currently at 6:30 pm.

Good thing I get to sleep early before classes tomorrow, Lucas mused as he exited the double doors of Retrospect.

At this point, darkness had already covered the sky. From the drifting clouds, the moon peaked, reflecting the rays of the sun against its spherical form. It cast a dim light that blanketed the town.

Having just finished a hearty meal, Lucas was ready to call it a day. He and Rhea lived in a two-story house in the nearby suburbs off the outskirts of Cameron’s Feint. Walking there from the town itself shouldn’t be too much of a problem, especially after refueling himself, but he decided to use that for something else while waiting for the bus instead.

The next bus wouldn’t be leaving until 7:00, meaning he had thirty minutes for a little exploration even if it was going to be a bit boring. Having lived near Cameron’s Feint all his life, Lucas knew almost all the ins and outs of getting around town.

The only part of town he refused to visit was its former northwestern district, a place full of towering structures that glowed with neon colors late at night. He had forgotten the bad memories associated there, and he wasn’t in the mood to recall them anytime soon.

While walking back into a crowd that hardly flocked the streets, the routine of Lucas’ lifestyle popped into his thoughts.

Go to school, study, hang out with his friend if he had time, participate in the Underground Arena for income on the weekends, and get treated at the clinic. The same cycle every week in the same town.

When will things ever change, even if for a short period of time? When will he find it in himself to take a different course?

Then he remembered one example of a cycle breaker -- those family reunions with Rhea’s relatives. With Rhea’s work keeping her occupied at the clinic and her family having tight schedules as well, these family reunions or vacations happened only once or twice every few years.

Lucas didn’t know much about his step-mother’s family. They were usually busy with whatever they did and were full of mysteries to him -- especially that one person around his age. She had piqued his curiosity since childhood. Come to think of it, Rhea mentioned one of them had moved to town a few days ago. He pondered why she did not specify who.

His lingering thoughts were interrupted as he passed one of the several gaps between the structures of the town -- a vague crowd of voices and hissing metal.

Lucas looked at the curtain of shadows that made the alley’s entrance. A question he often asked himself appeared once again.

How should I deal with this?

He had nothing to do with it, so it didn’t have to be of his concern. If he could just ignore it and be on his way, he could go home and continue the same daily life cycle as usual.

Lucas walked past the alley, but suddenly stopped in his tracks and reflected.

Continue the same routine, or for once, witness something that doesn’t happen every day?

Finally, he came to a decision.

It was difficult at first, but once Lucas forced that first step into the murkiness of the alley, continuing forward became easier. He searched for the source of the noise. After turning a few corners left and right and feeling an odd sense of his heart getting heavier, he found it.

His hunch was right. The guys in the white longcoats did find their target – someone who hid his face under the hood of a tattered jacket. A slim backpack with a single strap went over one of his shoulders.

Peering from behind a nearby dumpster big enough to hide him, Lucas spied on the commotion while trying his best to ignore the pungent smell of trash trying to breach his nose.

“Finally caught in the act!” One of the people wearing white longcoats announced. His comrades behind him held their weapons, which were variations of swords from the West. “Rumors around the school had it that you are one of those Renegades! Am I wrong!?”

“…”

The hooded person didn’t say anything. Instead, a pair of emerald eyes glowed from the darkness of his hood.

“Do not think you can pretend like you know nothing. We know the appearance underneath the hood, and we have been keeping our eyes on you since the rumors started! At first, we decided to remain cautious, and nothing more so long as you brought no harm to anyone, but ever since the past week, you have been following the fair maiden into her apartment every night at exactly 6:00 pm! The distance between both of you goes slightly away from intimacy. Thus, the two being together is false!”

Oh, this could be good, Lucas thought to himself, his fingers clenching on the dumpster’s top edge. But what’s with the old-fashioned speech?

“Indeed, that’s right!” Another person in a white longcoat joined in. “And our daily observations state a pattern exists too! Every night you’re always showing up outside different rooms at specific times! At 6:05, you’re outside room #306. At 6:17, it’s room #413, and at 6:22, it’s room #421! When you’re finished, you go back through this alley, following the same path as now!”

I think I’m starting to realize there’s another pattern. Lucas mumbled as he watched the odd drama unfold before him.

“An observation most worthy of praise, knave!” The first person who spoke earlier, most likely the leader of the group, patted his comrade on the back. “Do not deny it! You must have learned the schedules of the residents living in those apartments. Thus, thou hast taken advantage of the knowledge to commit the act of voyeurism on them!”

After hearing all the archaic dialogue, Lucas felt like the group was too immersed in their mannerisms. Yup, that speech pattern is old-fashioned. I know some people learned medieval warfare, but come on, isn’t the speech pattern thing just overdoing it?

The leader’s hand balled into a fist as it shook with fury.

“You have already been labeled a freak, yet dared to sink even lower! I see nothing in you but a filthy stalker!”

Lucas, still out of sight, deadpanned. Nobody should be offended if they hear that from you.

A hiss came about as the leader of the white longcoat group brandished a claymore from the sheath strapped to his waist before gripping it tightly in his hands.

“If you are truly a Renegade as the rumors say, then you must be disposed of post-haste! We shall protect our beloved town of Cameron’s Feint, share the knowledge of Renegades we are about to attain, be hailed as heroes, and perhaps... the fair maiden, Viola, shall notice me as her champion!”

His followers all pointed glassy stares at him following his declaration.

Cue the awkward silence.

“Er, I mean us!” The leader corrected himself (not really) as he turned around to face his followers. “Look, I realized I just made a mistake, but it only proves that I’m a human being, not like the fiend that stands before us.”

He even broke character in his rush.

Still, with that being said, the group of white longcoats focused on the hooded figure in front of them once more.

The excitement was building as Lucas anticipated what was about to unfold. His perspective of the leader rose a little in a positive direction. That was a bit cheesy, but I guess you guys are at least doing it for a noble cause.

But then, there was something in the leader’s speech that rang a bell for Lucas.

...Wait... Did he just say, ‘Viola?’

The leader stepped forward, determination quaking in his steps. “On behalf of my home, Cameron’s Feint, Sarkansas, and the fair bronze-haired maiden I must protect, I, who leads the Knights of Viola, shall vanquish thee! Have at you!”

So it is her! Lucas blushed slightly, a little surprised. So that’s why Rhea kept her lips sealed!

The Knights of Viola charged like an angry mob at the hooded individual, who stood still as he reached into his backpack.

Out of it, he pulled out a sword’s...

…hilt?

What? That sword doesn’t even have a blade! A baffled Lucas commented, still unnoticed and unheard from behind the dumpster.

There was no mistaking it after he double-checked what he just saw. The weapon was just a hilt, which made it look far from harmful. The most notable feature, however, was that the hilt resembled an animal. It looked like a wolf’s head with its mouth wide open.

Letting out a battle cry, the leader of the Knights swung his claymore downward in an attempt to bisect his target vertically. The sword came down hard with a blurring motion, only for it to be caught in the mouth of the wolf-shaped hilt.

With his odd weapon held only by a single hand, the hooded individual rotated his wrist and swatted the claymore away, disarming the leader while also disorienting him to another direction. After that, a push-kick to the leader sent him stumbling into his fellow charging Knights, the accidental bump breaking up their formation.

Every other Knight of Viola took their turn to have a go, but it all ended the same. In quick succession, every Knight tried to strike the hooded figure with their weapons, only for them to get blocked then disarmed. They would lose their balance from the riposte and get push-kicked away.

Lucas kept himself fixated on the hooded person’s behavior, and a curious thought floated within him.

Neither the hooded figure’s movements nor the way he fought was graceful. In fact, it looked more like he was undisciplined and savage yet, he was fighting defensively and peacefully, only standing his ground and deflecting every strike that came his way. The kicks he used just pushed his attackers away from him. They were never executed in a way that would hurt the average person by the looks of it.

If he truly was a Renegade, his behavior from earlier didn’t suit a threat that should be killed on sight. In fact, if it weren’t for them stating their intentions, the Knights of Viola would’ve looked more like the real monsters, attacking something they just assumed to be a threat.

With their formation broken and their attempts to fight thwarted, the Knights of Viola would’ve been wise to give up their efforts and retreat if only the Knight in the back of the line kept his mouth shut.

“You guys!” He said. “I know it looks like we’re not winning, but during that time, I felt this throbbing weight on my chest.”

“Oh, you felt that way too?” Another Knight asked him.

That Knight took the words right out of Lucas’ mouth. So, he wasn’t the only one who felt like his heart got heavier when he arrived on the scene? Something strange was going on, and it must’ve had something to do with that Renegade.

“So, we all felt the same!” The Knight from earlier said. “Maybe we were all nervous when we first encountered the Renegade, but for some reason, now I’m feeling happy! Like I just hit the jackpot!”

“Hey, yeah! Now that you mentioned it, I feel the same way too!”

“I think it’s a sign! It looks like we’re backed up into a corner, but I think we’ll be able to pull through somehow!”

The rest of the Knights began to share this sudden emotion. All of them retrieved the weapons they were disarmed of, and strangely, the hooded figure did not attempt to stop them. He continued to stand in place just like before.

With their weapons in hand once more and their formation reestablished, the leader of the Knights stepped forward and pointed his claymore at the hooded figure.

“See that, fiend? In the end, good will always triumph over evil! The Knights of Viola are too determined to be struck down forever! Now, my brothers! Let the power of positivity ignite your souls!”

They all cried in unison, chanting a battle cry that quickly broke the silence in the alley. Lucas felt their burning spirits but also hoped they didn’t annoy any outsiders who might be hearing them.

The chanting continued, still going strong as the Knights prepared to charge once more. The chanting reached its peak, and the Knights got pumped up with vigor.

...Then, the chanting began to lose its volume gradually.

“What’s wrong! Did the fighting spirit of you knaves already lose its fire!?” The leader looked behind to see which of the other Knights ran out of steam. But then he saw the truth for himself. The Knights were stopping, not because they grew tired. No, they were not tired.

Something was forcing them to stop.

From the shadows, crescents of silver flashed thanks to the light of the moon. Another flash came, another Knight of Viola fell, lifeless before his body could hit the ground.

The one responsible stepped into view.

It was a girl—a foreigner.

Her long and wavy raven hair with a bluish tint was tied behind to form an upward bun. Chin-length side bangs and an asymmetrical curtain of a fringe framed her heart-shaped face. An eyepatch, slightly hidden by her fringe, covered her right eye. Her left eye, lucid, cat-like, and azure as a sapphire, displayed no hint of mercy for those in her way.

Her outfit was not something found in the West, but Lucas recognized it from some of the manga Davis forced him to read.

A short, charcoal-grey kimono tied with a thin indigo sash and patterned with blue cherry blossoms on its left side. A pair of black skin-tight hot pants covered her upper thighs as she walked forth in black shinobi boots.

In her left hand was a thin and curved single-edged sword sheathed into a scabbard full of scratches.

Lucas recognized the weapon and recalled its name -- a katana.

The girl shifted herself into a stance, torquing her body as her left hand held the scabbard next to her hip while her other hand grasped the katana’s grip. She bent her knees slightly, focusing her weight on her left leg.

The hooded figure noticed her intentions and responded. His right arm, which was previously kept snug in the pocket of his jacket, revealed itself to be covered in bandages. He unraveled them and exposed his arm as being composed of a dark green liquid resembling slime. It oozed droplets that fell to the ground and melted it, causing thin ribbons of smoke to rise.

The girl dashed forth in a burst of speed, passing through every Knight of Viola in the process. None of the Knights were ignored, however, as everyone graced by the girl’s presence dropped dead to the ground.

Left and right came the swish of a blade slicing clean through flesh, muscle, and bone as it was unsheathed then re-sheathed in quick succession during the girl’s dash toward the hooded figure.

One by one, the Knights of Viola fell, barely having any time to react as the girl had already taken their lives the moment she passed them. To her, they were nothing but things in her way that needed to be put aside for good.

The leader of the Knights guarded himself with his claymore, but his efforts were pointless. The girl had already cut through the metal before her katana reached his throat.

“This... positive feeling... was... false... hope?”

Those were the leader’s last words before he crumpled down, his head rolling on the ground before the rest of his body landed with a thud.

An astonished Lucas broke into cold sweat.

I need to get out of here... But how will this end?

The hooded figure burst into action and threw some force into his right arm, stretching the limb and having its fingers extend around an object big enough to hide a person.

Unfortunately, it reached for the dumpster Lucas had been using as a hiding place. With a mighty swing of his arm, the hooded figure hurled the dumpster in the girl’s direction.

Despite the incoming projectile of massive proportions, the girl did not lose her cool. She took a stance in preparation and, with ample timing, unsheathed her katana and vertically bisected the dumpster in one strike, allowing herself to slip in clean between all the garbage it contained.

With a quick flick to the side, the girl removed all the blood and dirt on her katana’s blade before promptly re-sheathing it back into its scabbard.

Meanwhile, the hooded figure had already taken advantage of this distraction to escape. He ran into another corridor of the alley and disappeared into its shadows.

That meant only two people were left in the scene.

Now brought out of hiding, Lucas and the foreigner girl met each other’s gaze. She got into her stance again, ready to strike.

“Oh... shit...”

This was Lucas’ cue to run like he never did before.

All of this happened because he let curiosity win for once.

How unfortunate.