The 16th of Saun 718
Continued from here
“Justice? Crimes?” Nabero scoffed, unbothered by the man crusted in blood that closed the distance between them swiftly. He remained in his seat, not even changing his position a little. “Subjective concepts meant to keep the sheep from thinking!”
Oberan was right in front of him now, one arm shooting forward like a snake, fingers pressed together, pointing at Nabero’s face. It sliced through the air like a harpoon fired from a ballista, inching closer and closer towards flesh and bone, ready to end it once and for all.
They hit the stone backrest of the throne instead, piercing through with incredible force. The sound of crushing rock boomed through the chamber. Oberan’s eyes widened, snapping toward his target as he realized what had happened. He’d missed by a hair’s breadth, Nabero had lazily tilted his head away from the attack. He smirked at his attacker, humming quietly to himself.
“Like I said, Bran,” he spoke, slowly reaching out with one hand, palm facing Oberan’s chest. “You’ve gotten soft.” His palm connected, for a moment nothing seemed to happen, yet Oberan felt an overwhelming pressure building beneath the touch. A deafening roar of rushing wind, a burning flare of hurt in his chest. He was swept off his feet and launched through the air, tumbling, spinning, rolling. His back hit hard stones, yet it wasn’t enough to stop his momentum. It gave way, and he barreled through, crashing into the wall beyond instead. He spat blood, the fluid forced out of his body by the sheer force of the palm thrust. Oberan sank to his hands and knees, coughing, wheezing, feeling as if his insides had been turned to mush.
“Impressive,” that hated voice mused, footsteps coming from the hole in the wall. Oberan hauled himself back up, arms trembling, legs shaking. He winced as moving pulled on his chest. “To have been able to protect yourself in a mere fraction of a trill… I see.” The blood-crusted warrior could almost hear his grin widen.
“It will take more than one hit to keep me down,” Oberan panted, “forbidden technique or not.”
“Oho?” He sounded more amused than surprised. “So you did recognize after all. Indeed, this is the technique I developed decades ago. The one labeled as the forbidden technique Kirigaya Suguha.”
“Master Roaneb forbade you from using it ever again!”
“Roaneb was a fool.” The response was cold and brusque, holding bitterness and anger. “My talent was wasted under a man such as he. ‘I forbid you from using that technique, Nabero’, ‘it is too dangerous, Nabero’. ‘It will destroy your body, Nabero’. Nonsense! Senile drivel! The weak cannot grasp that the strong are capable of more than they can imagine! If it put too much strain on the body, then train the body to be able to handle it! Simple!”
“You’re blinded by your lust for power! That technique outright kills anyone struck by it! It goes against the core tenants of Wai Fu! It soils the noble art, it disgraces its legacy! The use of Wai Fu is to defend and protect, not kill and destroy!”
“I killed to defend. I killed to protect.” The words were thrown out from between clenched teeth.
“Protect?” Oberan’s visage twisted in rage. “You slayed hundreds, thousands! Men, women, children!”
“Entitled elites living on their floating island, believing they own the world below!”
“They were people!”
“They were monsters who enslaved my family! I saved them! I freed them! After ten long arcs, I finally got them out of that hell! So why did they stare at me as if I was some kind of monster?! Why did they cry and beg for their lives?! Why did they sob over the corpses of the people who took everything from them?!”
“Because they were treated well! Because they were family!”
“They were slaves! Brainwashed! Broken! I saved them!”
Oberan didn’t respond.
“…I see how it is. You’re taking their side now?” Nabero’s voice trembled with anger.
“I’m on the side of my family, which you murdered! As a husband, as a father, as a fellow disciple of master Roaneb, it is my duty to stop you!”
There were no more words. Oberan had recovered somewhat, assuming a fighting stance. Nabero did the same. Their glares locked, burning hatred versus cold cruelty. They circled around, one carefully measured step at a time, slinking around like two lions as they seized each other up. Then, both of them simultaneously acted.
Nabero opened with Arthuria Pendragon and Oberan attacked with Nagisa Furukawa. Both techniques clashed, leg against fist. Nabero broke through, and Oberan cursed, transforming his previous attack into a defensive Chie Satonaka. Blocked, Nabero chained his initial kick into a barrage of Usagi Tsukino. Oberan deflected each and every one of them with Akane Tendo.
“You think you can defeat me with low tier Wai Fu techniques?” Nabero taunted, and Oberan’s scowl deepened. His pride didn’t allow for him to respond with anything higher tier than Nabero had thrown at him, but it seemed that he had no choice.
Quickly, Oberan dropped his stance into Haruhi Suzumiya, then aimed a double Sato Mako at Nabero’s abdomen. They hit. He could feel the shockwave travel through his opponent’s body, he felt a weak smirk tug at the corners of his mouth, which quickly vanished. Both his wrists were caught in a vice grip, and with a quick motion he was caught in the Rukia Kuchiki technique and slammed into the floor.
Nabero quickly followed up with a Kiryuin Satsuki aimed for Oberan’s head. He rolled aside, launching himself upward with Jakuzure Nonon –which Nabero just barely evaded—then flowed into Matoi Ryuko. His opponent responded with a series of Hinata Hyuga to kill the impact. Oberan felt to the ground, performing a Togame aimed for the shin. Nabero simply countered with Hitei Hime and Hakagure Toru.
Oberan attempted to back away, but was caught in a barrage of continuous Rachel Alucard, striking the blood-crusted opponent again and again. All tries to block with Mitsuru Kirijou and Tae Takemi were predicted and foiled, and he couldn’t avoid being hit by the powerful finishing blow Izumi Konata.
For the second time, Oberan was hurled backwards, now thrown back into the throne room, skidding across the tiles before he came to a stop. Getting up felt harder than before. Pain pulsated through his body as he got back to his feet, grimacing as he fell back into a combat stance.
He wasn’t done just yet.
