Gnawing at the Roots

Fiore, even though Mathis had been living in it for some time, still bore its oddities and mysteries that, strange as they were, added a sense of familiarity towards for the stranger from another land. Alrest had its oddities. The living continents, the strange, furry denizens of the Nopon, the mysterious nature of Monado and the Blades...everything of his home was weird, though he had become accustomed to the oddities and uniqueness of his home from his many years living within its hallowed lands. Every continent that he had travelled to bore its own oddities and uniquenesses to it, from Fodlan’s blood based hierarchy to Forge’s metallic wildlife or Altea and its people that could transform into dragons at will and the similarities with Tellius and its own race of various peoples that transformed into beasts. Lions, bears, herons, ravens...truly the world was filled with many oddities as this.

Of course, there was little precedent for something as strange as what Mathis now beheld in front of him. A civilization, one marked by people simply living their lives in a quiet, quaint solitude on the outskirts of the lands of Fiore and near a cursed land, nestled away in its own pocket of society. Log cabins sat haphazardly around, built for survival as opposed to aesthetics. A small creek split the town in two, with a well maintained, yet obviously even more well used bridge filling the gap between the side that bordered the more evident civilization and the border to the Cursed Monsterlands.  Yet their civilization revolved around one oddity that surprised the often stalwart Mathis. In the center of the town, just past the small wooden bridge, sat a giant beanstalk. The pillar of green shot into the sky, piercing the clouds and extending seemingly to infinity. Even in his travels towards this strange village, Mathis failed to see the apex of the stalk’s heights. Various leaves provided shade down across this quaint town, yet each was easily large enough to be inhabited, and a few of the ones closer to the ground level were in fact inhabited. The one closest to the ground seemed to bear an inn on it, while a few houses dotted others as they ascended into the sky. A stone tower would every so often take residence over one of the leaves, staring and keeping watch over the town, evidently built to make even this small, isolated community a defensive haven.

Even as he and Poppi marched into the town, they could tell that this hub, this cultural icon and identity of the town itself was worse for wear. The vibrant green bore speckles of brown, and a pile of rubble on the ground seemed to indicate that a leaf had shriveled up and died, sending the inhabiting building down. Yet around that pile of rubble were a series of men and women, chanting to the skies. A few spectators worriedly sat over the leaf of the inn, wondering what would become of their town. The request had mentioned a cult, and it seemed as though this would be the one that the request was speaking of. Each one wore tribalistic garb, with a striking forest green painting over their sackcloth clothes. Garlands of green adorned the heads of a few of them, indiscriminately spread about among the ring of people chanting. Though Mathis was not magically adept, Poppi already noted that there was a draining of ethernano in the air around the stalk, stemming from the crowd that rung around it, their chants sapping the very essence of the life of the village. Mathis knew that he needed to stop this cult, and he already was prepared for combat.

As he entered, a distraught woman bearing the clothes of the cult came running up. She seemed innocent enough, but Mathis already knew better. He nodded to Poppi as the woman approached and asked for assistance, but Mathis already was anticipating when the dagger lunged for his neck. He grabbed the woman’s wrist before Poppi slowly stepped in and pierced the woman’s stomach with her sword. The cultists unfortunately seemed to see this and prepared to defend themselves. As the battle began, Mathis could already see that the cult was far more numerous than he could have expected, people filing out from seemingly nowhere to engage in combat with the Swordmaster.

Bolts of green fire initiated the war as Monado switched its form into a bow, firing out each arrows of purple light that struck through the bolts before they could near. Melee focused fighters began to near, cloaking their fists in plants or tossing seeds Mathis’s way. Monado shifted its form yet again, this time into a pair of two short spears as Mathis charged. Three men came upon him in an instant, one throwing a plant covered punch at the Swordsman. Mathis dodged, the faint smell of green beans wafting past his masked nose as he slid into the legs of the brawler. He kipped up into the air, swatting away a tendril of earth with his right handed spear. Poppi came in for an assist on the third, delivering a hearty shoulder tackle to the man, sending his garland flying. Mathis had a smirk about him at this very moment. Poppi was such an effective fighter, and Mathis was glad to have her along. Of course, now was not the time for reflection. As the brawler got up, Mathis pierced his left handed spear at his bare chest, fully expecting when the plant gauntlets blocked the effort, simultaneously along the right handed spear being pierced in a mound of earth from the earth mage. The brawler gave another hearty punched, Mathis barely able to dodge out of the way with a quick duck before ramming the butt of his spear into his stomach, delivering a knee to his chin as he quick turned to face the earth mage. He planted his hands into the ground as a spire of dirt emerged from underneath him. Mathis balanced himself atop the tip of the spire, leaping down as Monado’s purple light indicated a shift of form, this time bearing the appearance of a great axe. He twirled in the air, slamming Monado down into the ground. As expected, the earth mage did not gawk for long, sidestepping from the giant dual bladed axe. Mathis let go of Monado to deliver a punch to the man’s jaw before returning to his blade, which now truly was a blade.

He drew his sword, impaled into the ground, and quickly swiped at the brawler, who leaned back out of the way. The attempt to dodge left the brawler unbalanced, and Mathis took advantage, dashing ahead and delivering a swift slash across his chest. A spray of purple tinted blood flew into the air as the strange sword cut through the flesh easier than a knife would cut through butter. Not taking a second to breath, Mathis leaped into the air, twisting himself both horizontally and vertically as Monado’s lights formed it into a bow, which shot an arrow at the heavily injured earth mage. It pierced into the man’s collarbone, prompting Mathis to once more charge ahead and stab out with Monado, which had once again instantaneously morphed into another form, this time being that of a long spear. It pierced the man’s stomach, Mathis spending no time for rest as he ran it through, using his momentum from the spear stabbed both through the man’s chest and the ground to spin himself around, retrieving the blood tipped blade and transforming it into a sniper rifle. Taking one quick look down the scope, he fired thrice at some of the fire casters, eliminating two of them, with the only survivor only having barely raised a fire ball in time for him to absorb the power of the ethernano Monado fired. He looked over to Poppi, who had cleared out the third initial attacker, though was now occupied with another five, dancing in between them. Mathis smirked and rushed ahead, ready to engage the next wave of foes.

The foes refused to wait for him, as ten men and fourteen women pounced upon him. He rolled out of the way of a red headed woman’s spear strike, Monado shifting into dual blades as the rest of the crew of twenty four began to engage. The spear woman came first, and came ferociously, swinging and stabbing her spear haphazardly around, leaving Mathis essentially with training for parrying strikes, though he was unable to truly take advantage of the situation due to the numbers against him. A root, seemingly from the beanstalk, fired up at him, which he only barely managed to dodge as he swiftly flared one of the blades behind him to parry an incoming earth tendril. The second blade that he held shortly after engaged a bulky man with a hefty ax and shield. The battle soon turned into a series of tides, with Mathis slowly being pushed back by the onslaught before getting an opportunity to strike back with Monado, its form shifting at a breakneck pace. In the few moments of relative respite, Mathis would fire a glance at Poppi, who was slowly but surely making progress in her own fighting.

Finally, they made a mistake. A tendril of earth briefly knocked the spearwoman about, allowing Mathis to finally begin to thin the numbers. Monado was in the form of a pair of dual khopeshs and he caught the woman’s spear in one before swinging the other, cutting across her neck in a swift motion. He tossed the spear up in the air as the khopeshs battered aside an onslaught of ax and tendril, having to be bumped into the air yet again in order to keep his plan alive. Finally, an opening rose in the duel with the burly man, and Monado obliged by shifting into a single spear as the opponent spear fell into his hands. He spun around on his heel and tossed it at the earth tendril spawner before deflecting the axe again and sweeping his legs in a swift turn. Monado switched into a bow as another root burst forth from the ground, Mathis using it as a platform to fling himself high into the air and pepper the ground nearby with a flurry of arrows. Few of them remained undeflected, but it was enough of an advantage for the master of war to use towards his victory. He landed on the man’s shield, vaulting off of it as Monado shifted into a spear and flying towards the plant user, who was unable to save himself from being struck in the shoulder with an arrow strike. Mathis ran the man through with his spear, quickly tossing it into the air and catching an incoming swordswoman’s strike with Monado, which had decided on the form of a swordcatcher. He disarmed the woman before piercing at her, running her through with the blade that now gave the appearance and mannerisms of a glaive. Just as before, he did not have time to rest. He quickly spun on his heel, tilting his head ever so slightly to the left to avoid a spear of ice that flew past him, chilling his ear with the frost emanating from its power. Monado now was a crossbow, allowing him to take a single shot to distract the ice mage long enough for him to continue to focus on the nearby melee users.

Another two brawlers came upon him, one man and one woman, and Mathis quickly deflected their swift coordinated strikes with masterfully swung swipes of Monado, battering away the rocky knuckles and the gauntlets of hardened beans. As he warded off a deflection from the bean gauntleted woman, he swung Monado, which was in its normal sword form, back around him to batter aside an earthy tendril. The two grapplers failed to let up, however, swinging their fists as wildly as before, though Mathis now used this to his advantage, leading the bean gauntlets to crush the rock knuckles and, in their shock, cutting both down with the now dual sworded Monado. They squirmed for a moment as Mathis said a quick prayer in his head as the combat continued. He had already struck down four of them, but this still left another twenty, plus however many that Poppi was taking down, and the long distance fire caster. Luckily for Mathis, they had decided that their ritual was more important than stopping the distraction, leaving less foes for Mathis to fight. He was not perturbed by this idea, rather taking relief at the hubris these foolish cultists bore in their attempts to strike him down. Monado once again decided in the power of a bow, as he fired a volley of arrows into the crowd of twenty cultists, striking two unsuspecting fools down. The axe and shield user barreled towards Mathis, who was prepared to take him on as Monado transformed into chakrams.

Even in the heat of battle, Mathis could wonder on the machinations of his mysterious sword. How did Monado work, he wondered. The blade seemed to have a mind of its own, and no matter what sort of work he would do on it, it would never improve or weaken, leading him to believe that Monado was incapable of being stronger. That was not to say that it was in any need of being stronger, it could cut through just about anything with ease, be it man, beast, armor, or scale. Yet the most baffling thing about it was how it constantly shifted forms without Mathis needing to think about it, yet it always seemed to synchronize with that which Mathis had planned. The purple light seemed to stem from its strange and unexplainable connection to ethernano, but that was the furthest lead he could get on the nature of his own weapon. Back in Alrest, few knew how the weapon worked, and even less knew on the nature of ethernano, with it merely being a buzzword pseudo intellectuals would pass around in hopes of sounding smart. Every continent Mathis visited after had nothing more to offer, and it seemed, to his dismay, that Silver Wolf would be much the same: nothing to offer in terms of providing a solid answer to the nature of the inner workings of the mysterious shifting blade.

Yet more mysterious was that of the origins of Monado. When he had found it over two thousand years ago, it was as mysterious as it was now. He had simply found it buried deep in a ruin of a civilization long past, yet there had been references of it in even more ancient civilizations. It, quite simply put, was something that was impossible to make by human hands. It was too intricately made, each and every facet of the blade’s being having been fine-tuned to perfection without any conceivable flaw in its make, and the core that it used to draw ethernano was even more a mystery, as there was no central core. In all of his years of studying the weapon, he failed to find a way that it truly worked, though the closest he understood was a theory that the material itself drew from ethernano. If that was the case, however, how was it so potent? What was the material? How did it remain its physical prowess while being usable as a magical sword?

The thoughts mulled in his head as he cut down the remainders. In combat, the ancient warrior was someone who simply fought on instinct, not worrying about the matters that were in front of him. Poppi, too, had finished her combat, so the duo invaders marched towards the hub of the city, where the cult only had one remaining defender.

“You’re much stronger than I anticipated,” the man barked. “I am Corliss von Crass, and I am here on behalf of my people to bring down this accursed bean. Aye, it sounds strange, for sure. An accursed bean? Well, it is for the safety of the people of this town! The bean itself has been from the Cursed Monsterlands, and it shall sap away these people’s lives if left to its own devices!”

Mathis scoffed. “And under what providence have you to say this?”

Corliss harrumphed. He stared Mathis down, assessing him just as Mathis assessed the strange man in front of him as well. He was certainly a physically imposing figure, towering taller than any man that Mathis had seen from Fiore. His bulk was not a joke either, with his arms and legs bulging with veins underneath the same cultist garb that the rest of the foes had opted to wear. Despite him wearing a similar enough uniform, there was a fancier nature to how Corliss’s appearance looked. The clothes were that of a nobleman, with frills lining down the center of an open vest, each frill speckled by small flowers and other foliage. The vest itself bore a similar green hue, though there was an oddity to its texture. It was clearly not originally green, nor was it dyed. Rather, it seemed as if the color had slowly poisoned its way into the one-black vest. Despite the fanciness of the garb, it cut off at the shoulder, revealing, aside from the bulging veins of power pulsing through the man’s blood, small tendrils of plants digging into his flesh. While a hypothesis quickly ran through Mathis’s head that it could be a result of the beanstalk, it quickly flew away in a state of unlikelihood. Mathis did not know why, but there was a gut feeling that the beanstalk was not the cause of this man’s power, nor the cause of his insanity. Just as his fancy shirt cut off at the shoulders, it too ran into merely a pair of short, dressy shorts that cut off at the middle of his thigh, revealing once more a similar scene to that along his arms with the small roots digging into his flesh and feeding him power. His face, too, bore those same strange roots digging into his cheeks and jaw. His face bore a mild green tint, though it was the most mild of milds. His face matched the tough, imposing figure that his body bore. His jaw was strong and sharp, a light field of black stubble coated across the craggy landscape of his face. A mouth with thick, bloody lips curled into a disapproving frown, though a small gap along the right side of his mouth show way into oddly perfectly white teeth. Around his large, flappy ears ran a ring of embroidered flowers. Daisies, roses, lillies...a rainbow petals adorned his intimidating frame, providing a strange, dainty feel in a sharp contrast to the rest of the man’s appearance. Yet even still, the calming flowers hid a faint undertone of sinister nature, as small tendril ran across his face. It seemed as if this man had no choice but to wear this crown of foliage, as the rugged crevasses of the man’s angry wrinkles were filled by the extending fingers of nature digging into his skull. Even so, the man yet bore an anger in his dull, forest green eyes. At the very top of his head, his hair was close-cropped and short, leaving him no room for that to be taken advantage of.

He smiled. “I see we both think the same way, huh? Gotta figure out what the opponent’s about. Bit of a shame you have that weird mask on, but I can tell by your girlfriend here and from watching you in combat that you ain’t a joke.”

“Poppi is a combat AI, Corliss-san.”

“Corliss-san, eh? Heh. I could get used to the sound of that.”

“Tell me. Why have you and your allies come here to this village.”

Corliss’s smile grew wide and wicked.  “The God tells us to. Within the monsterlands, there lies a God, and it says that the bean encroaches on its domain. Thus, we follow. We haven’t much choice but to follow the God. All of us were, at some point, banished into the monsterlands. Whether it be for crimes we’ve committed, or for rebellions against our families, all of us ended up in a poor situation.”

“A poor play at trying to illicit pity, Corliss-san. The God you so speak of is incapable of truly determining what you wish to do, I would imagine. You made your choice to follow this so-called ‘God’ and now you use the words of this being to enact pain upon others.  Look upon yourself and think truly. Are you truly someone who wants this?”

Corliss’s veins bulged ever so slightly. Mathis was on the right track, but there would be no more time for negotiations. He charged forwards, ready to initiate combat. Monado was at the ready, and it parried away the initial strike of the burly commander of cultists, though Mathis was still pushed back further than he had expected. Poppi was no different, taking the offensive to Corliss, only to be pushed back by unaugmented hands. Corliss had an innate strength magic to him, Mathis could tell. Even so, the swordsman could tell that this was nowhere near the apex of the man’s power. He could not afford to be lax in such a mission, and only having to take out this angry man in front of him. Corliss rushed forwards towards Mathis, indicating that Corliss knew that, if Mathis went down, Poppi would as well.

“Poppi! Focus on support!”

“Yes, Master! Poppi is activating support protocol!”

Monado formed into a shield as Corliss delivered a hearty punch towards the swordsman. Mathis felt his boots dig into the hard dirt below as the flurry of strikes pushed him further and further back. Mathis found an opportunity, pushing Corliss back slightly. Monado took no time in adjusting its form, this time taking that of a spear, though it quickly retracted into dual swords as Corliss prepared to catch the spear. Even with the surprise attack, it was not enough to ward off the ferocious cultist. He raised an arm, which now became cloaked in wraps of vines, deflecting the blade that came in for the counterattack. His other arm, similarly wrapped in the tangled mess of forest green vines, thrust out towards Mathis, who dodged deftly out of the way with a backwards handspring as Monado turned into a bow. A volley of three quick arrows shot out, each one being deflected by the vine laden gauntlets, before Monado shifted again into a naginata. A pair of pummelling punches rained towards the master of weaponry, who swiped them aside with a deft swing of the naginata, delivering a spinning kick at Corliss, who dodged out of the way with a backwards leap. That gave him enough momentum to charge at the ancient warrior, delivering a series of punches, each of which bounced off the axhead of Monado’s new form. That same momentum launched Corliss to the other side of Mathis, the vines having now manifested as a sword. Seemingly for the sake of being honorable, Monado itself turned into a sword as the duel began.

Corliss made the first strike, attempting a rising slash on Mathis, who swiped aside the futile attempt at killing him. Mathis countered right back with a swing of Monado, which too was deflected. Mathis continued the offensive, however, swinging Monado a few more times into Corliss’s vine blade. At the fourth swipe, the vines wrapped around the blade of Monado as more vines in his off hand formed into a spear. Mathis sidestepped out of the way of the incoming lunge, now realizing what was taking place.

“The vines are capable of mimicking any magic, are they not?”

“You certainly pick up quick, warrior. I’m unbeatable, since I can just improve on any sort of magic that anyone can throw at me with the God’s Vines!”

“Then it is a good thing that I am not one that relies on magic, is it not?”

“I can outmuscle you, kid.”

“You should be careful who you call kid.”

Corliss made a “tch” noise as he continued the attack. Monado managed to deliver enough ethernano to form another blade in Mathis’s free hand. This was the opportunity that Corliss had been hoping for, and it was finally a worthy challenge. Despite this man’s evident strength, Mathis still felt as if others within Fiore exceeded his power with ease, his guild master, Leona, included. He was certainly on the levels of the greatest warriors in Altea or Tellius, but for the people of Fiore, he was small fry, as the saying went. Corliss had the advantage, that much was evident. The vines were much more fluid in combat than Monado was. However, while Monado certainly assisted Mathis in his combat endeavors, they were by no means necessary.

He swiped away another spear strike, kicking at his ribs. He knew it would not hit, but it was enough of a distraction to get Monado freed from the vines. Corliss smirked slightly. It seemed as though both of the combatants enjoyed their equal match.

“Hey, do me a favor. Remove the mask.”

“I am curious why you would ask me something such as that.”

“I wanna see what this strange master of fighting looks like, really.  No one’s been ever able to get even anywhere near this good at fighting me. Most of the time, when I snatch a weapon from melee fighters or start mimicking their magics, they last no more than fifteen seconds. Yet for some reason you seem like you might actually win. Well, it’ll be a close loss for you, I guess! Ha!”

Mathis could not help but smile. “Can I ask you to be honorable and not attack while I remove the mask?”

Corliss smiled. “Of course. I might be in a cult, but I’ll be damned if I don’t still follow my own code.”

Mathis nodded, removing the mask that sat upon his face and gently tossing it to the ground as Monado turned into the form of a long, silver katana. Despite the form that Monado usually took being a blade as well, this particular transformation was different. Each transformation that Monado took remained the same purple light and black weapon. However, this katana, while simultaneously being the strongest form, was the strangest. It was a silver blade, not the usual black metal, and the lights it emitted should a Monado Art be used were a light blue, not the usual purple.

Corliss smiled. “To think that the first person I’ve ever been slightly scared of is some pretty boy with a weird gem in his skull. What’s the deal with the gem?”

“I will not tell you, Corliss-san. There are some secrets that even the dead are not privy to.”

Corliss guffawed. “Fair play, pretty boy. What’s the name?”

“Mathis Lora, of Alrest.”

“Alrest, eh? It’s been a long time since I’ve been there.”

“Y-You’ve been to Alrest? How? When?”

Corliss smirked. “There are some secrets that even the dead are not privy to, Monado.”

Mathis twisted Monado in his hand. Was Corliss a native of Alrest? He cleared his mind of this thought. Corliss was trying to get underneath Mathis’s skin. If he had not mentioned Monado, Mathis could have easily brushed it aside as just that: an attempt to get underneath the skin of an opponent. A dirty trick, but an effective tactic nonetheless. Yet he clearly knew about Alrest. Monado was the guardian blade of the entire archipelago, so knowing the connotation was…

He cleared his mind again. There was a battle ahead, and Corliss’s vines had shifted into a pair of dual scythes, each one the size of one that one would imagine a rider of death or a reaper to wield. Yet Corliss wielded them with ease. Mathis smirked. One blade against two scythes? Odds were against him, but he knew he could win.

This was not the first time he had slain Death itself.

Both moved simultaneously, ready to begin this clash of two masterful warriors.  The left scythe was the first to move, yet Mathis knew it was a feint. He rolled to the right, ducking underneath the quickly swinging right scythe. No advantage could be taken of the read, as the thrusting stab Mathis made was swiped aside by Corliss’s left scythe. Corliss had shifted to face Mathis now, and was fully prepared to engage once again. Mathis charged first, swinging diagonally from his right hip to his left shoulder, clashing against the rising scythe, quickly slicing it directly horizontal to deflect the falling scythe. He quickly stepped to the side as the first scythe, too, came down, before fully rolling out of the way as the second scythe, too, struck. He swung the blade out in front of him again, clashing again with the scythes. He needed to figure out the mannerisms that Corliss had, and quickly. Mathis was certainly the more skilled of the two, despite Corliss not being any slouch himself in manners of skill, but Corliss had the upper hand when it came to raw strength. Mathis needed to wear down the vine cultist with a prolonged battle to have a comfortable victory. He could certainly win at any moment, but he preferred not to risk such a task with someone as strong as his current foe.

Monado caught both scythes as he swung them down, the vines pressing against the mysterious metals of Monado, He raised Monado high to remove the clash of blades before going in for a strike. Corliss swung a scythe down to deflect as the second came for a counter. Mathis knew that now was his best opportunity to run a gambit in the hopes of succeeding. He ran to counter the scythe before it could gain enough momentum to strike, disarming him, if only for a second. Mathis took this advantage to attempt a swing at Corliss’s neck, only for the gambit to end up in a net result of nothing as Corliss himself rolled out of the way, returning the viney scythe to his hand as he popped back up. Corliss was a smart fighter, so simple tricks would not work. Mathis was already removing options on the list that he mentally made for defeating him. Strength was out of the question, as was a simple gambit. The endurance plan was still the best thought for removing him from the battle, though a few other ideas rose into his mind.

The next plan began with Mathis charging once more, risking losing the extra power the silver katana granted as he flung himself over using the momentum of the scythe’s warding strikes. He flew into the air, firing a volley of purple hued energy arrows down at Corliss. The plan, while still ultimately unsuccessful, gave a useful insight to the strategist sword master, as the vines around his shoulder rose up by themselves to absorb some of the arrows. The vines had a mind of their own, implying some sort of parasite as the source of these vines. Perhaps the God worked as a parasite? Now was not the time for speculation, but plans continued to run in his head as the combat continued, sword matching scythe. Most warriors of Corliss’s size would have easily been worn out by this point in time, yet Corliss seemed to be an anomaly. While larger fighters certainly could bear a large amount of endurance if they worked slowly and methodically, taking the fight slow, Corliss followed no logic. He was fierce in his fighting, raging with scythes at Mathis with a furious speed the ancient being had seldom seen, and yet he remained untired. A smile still shone on his face as he viciously continued his assault on the master warrior. Mathis, too, was slightly surprised at his own lack of fatigue. He and Poppi both had engaged many foes already at this point, yet Mathis felt fresh and renewed. Of course, Poppi’s assistance helped in such a matter, slowly regenerating his health and stamina over time, but it still was odd. Was it the cause of the beanstalk that rose up the fatigue? Or was Corliss ensuring that Mathis was at full strength for a fair fight? Corliss had mentioned a code of honor that he followed, so perhaps fighting foes at their best was part of it.

It would be a mistake, and the last he would make.

The battle of attrition was not working, Mathis could tell. Poppi could come in and assist, but he needed the support that Poppi provided to fully weather Corliss’s flurry of atrociously powerful attacks. Mathis could not take many hits from Corliss, if any at all, and so he needed to dodge out of the way of each masterfully swung strike. Finally, however, the mistake came. Corliss had finally, in the entirety of the ten minutes of combat that had been happening, made a single mistake. The two had done their dance of death in perfection and in perfect harmony. Not a single mistake was made on either side. The gambits Mathis attempted, at worst, ended with a draw and a return to the briefest moments of respite before the battle continued. Even with the speed of the battle ramped but tenfold from that of a duel between non magic users, each clash of blade and scythe back and forth lasting fractions of a second and each moment of rest lasting no longer than half a second, the perfection the two had demonstrated in this seemingly eternal conflict finally ended. Corliss, once more, had swung both of his scythes down. Despite his insistence on using the same technique, there was no staling of its power and potency. Mathis needed to block it with Monado or dodge out of the way or he would fall, and no amount of counterattacks would lead to anything under normal circumstances. A flicker rose in Corliss’s eyes for the briefest of seconds as Mathis disengaged Monado from the scythes. In that briefest of moments, shorter than it takes one to blink, the battle had ended.

As the engagement ended, Corliss finally tried a gambit of his own. He attempted a sweep of Mathis’s leg, doing his best to unnerve the ancient warrior. Mathis could tell from that faintest of tells his entire strategy. He stepped slightly backwards, perfectly calculating the length of the scythes that quickly came swinging down again that they brushed just in front of his nose and planting into the ground. Corliss had no time to retrieve the weapons from the ground before Mathis had already run the man through with his katana, cutting through Corliss’s heart as the blade pristinely sat on the other side. This dance of death ended with the reaper once more slain, and Mathis having to take his place. He pulled Monado out of Corliss’s body, letting him flop to the ground.

“Damn...you’re a strong kid.”

Mathis nodded. “And you an admirable opponent.”

A weak smile flashed to Corliss’s face. “I should expect as much from a Blade such as yourself, eh?”

Mathis was stunned. Corliss knew? How? Mathis had kept that secret from all. Only Poppi knew, and only by virtue of Mathis telling her. How could-

“I see. Corliss-san. You are from Uraya, are you not?”

“Aye. Once was a merc back in Alrest. Got banished after a coup, first place I landed was the Cursed Monsterlands. Me and two of my Driver buddies wandered through the wasteland for a time before we came across the God’s cave. My buddies couldn’t survive the God’s whims, and it usurped my power. Damn if I didn’t like how powerful I was now, though. To think I could go toe to toe with the crown jewel of Alrest and his Sword.”

“You...believe I am the crown jewel of Alrest?”

“Monado chose you, didn’t it? Well, at least that’s what the legends say. That and the fact you’ve managed to live so long as a Blade without a Driver...it’s certainly something. Tell me, who was your Driver?”

Mathis looked solemnly to the ground. “She was a wonderful woman, Corliss. Thank you.”

Corliss smirked once more as his spirit left him. Mathis, for the first time, had encountered someone from his home and someone who knew who he truly was, and now that same person was dead. Mathis had no regrets. She would not have wanted him to have any regrets, so he did not. For her sake. Mathis wandered over to reapply his mask as he neared the rest of the cultists, who fled in terror at the massacring myrmidon’s approach. Corliss von Crass, huh? The noble name of Crass was familiar to Mathis. The founder of the family died in an attempt to halt Mathis from claiming Monado. The name escaped him at present, however, only the title of “Baron von Crass.” From Mathis’s memories, Corliss was a dead ringer for Baron von Crass. The physical fighting, the crass nature, and the burly demeanor had apparently been passed down for millenia to now inhabit the now dead Corliss.

Mathis sighed. He was content with taking lives, that was not the issue. It was merely the futility of Corliss’s work that saddened the Blade. This God was, as Mathis expected, a parasite, the town elders told him after the area cleared. It was a sister of the beanstalk of the village, according to the local legends. It would bore its way into the minds of people and force them to try to remove the beanstalk of the eponymous Beanstalk Village. Beanstalk Village’s stalk, the Stalk of Life, provided prosperity to the lands around it, at the cost of lessening the power of inhabitants, while the Cursed Stalk, the Stalk of Power, sapped energy from those that did not follow and empowered those who did adore the stalk. Mathis could not say that this was a normal thing for him to experience or hear about. People worshipping a beanstalk? The beanstalk knowing who worshipped it? Why a bean of all things? Nonetheless, Mathis was happy. The cult had been dashed, and the Stalk of Power’s advances halted for another hundred years. Corliss had become the vessel for the Stalk of Power, and his already imposing presence and master of combat made him ideal for such a case. The rest of the cultists were, as Corliss said, despondent people who yearned for power. It was not an objectively poor goal. That power could be used to protect loved ones or create a better world, yet it was not Mathis’s place to determine the morality and the ethics of this job.

As always, Mathis was a weapon, nay, Mathis was a Blade. He was someone that followed the orders of others. The job told him to stop this cult, and he did. Mathis and Monado were one and the same. Both had their confined tasks. Both worked in perfect synchronicity. Both were powers foreign to the world and to logic, yet still familiar. They were anomalies, Mathis and Monado. Mathis was a Blade that needed no Driver and could, himself, be Driver to Blades. Monado was a weapon whose origin and construction could never be replicated. They were ancient beyond belief. Neither of them had a traceable origin. Even the earliest civilizations of Alrest had mentions of Monado that seemed to predate them. Mathis was a Blade. He could not die, not in truth. Should his Driver die, he would slumber for a time before finally being born as Blade to a new Driver. Of course, now was different for Mathis. He did not have a Driver, so if he died, he would die for certain. Yet it was unknown if Mathis could even die. The truth behind his own origins was undocumented, even among those ancients. As far as Mathis knew, he was the only of his kind to exist, a position he did not envy. Yet this was his lot in life. He was an anomaly and a weapon to be used however others saw fit. Mathis had his own morals, which mostly aligned with Silver Wolf’s. The research on the unknown, both as a matter of the unknowns of his origin and Monado’s origin. The search and the quest for knowledge than ran in the blood and in the minds of each and every wolf that stood in the guild, side by side as allies and comrades.

Leaving the town, Mathis removed his mask. Corliss had reminded him of who he was. He was here to accept that truth, and he accepted it with a smile.

“Poppi has not been programmed to say this, but Poppi must anyways, Master is, as Corliss said, rather attractive.”

Mathis chuckled. “You think so? Well, it matters little from my own creation saying that. I suppose it makes sense for an artificial Blade to want to get the ‘Greatest Blade of Alrest’ to appreciate them.”

Poppi pouted. “That is not what Poppi means! Master knows that Poppi is here to serve and protect Master! However, Poppi wonders...what did you know of Corliss?”

Mathis shook his head. “I knew very little. All that I knew was that he was Urayan, and that his family has long been strong combatants. That he was of Alrest did not fully enter my mind until he had said so. Perhaps it is a shame that I did not recognize-”

“Master was occupied with combat! Poppi knows this well! Such thinkings were something that Master could not worry himself with, so Poppi did not bring them up! Poppi hopes that Master is okay with this revelation!”

Mathis smiled, rubbing the head of his creation. “Of course I am, Poppi. And I am glad you are here to support me. Strange as it may sound, you are like...a daughter to me. Though a Blade cannot father children-”

Poppi gave a flurry of playful strikes to Mathis’s arm in protest as they slowly returned to Silver Wolf’s guild hall.