There was a line between justice and violence...
Someone outraged may be considered to be blind to justice, but could such a criticism be true?
I believe... Outrage was the true form of justice.
When recognising what is unjust, you can recognise it and act to correct what is wrong,
Arthur Rainglow embodied this vision.
Unlike Alex, who grew listless to many transformations and evolutions through maturity, a meathead like him didn't have such history, or even changed that much from how he was as a child.
He was a living phenomenon. A youth similar to a force of nature that was unchanged through time.
And most of all... he was a 'Warrior'.
It began when he first realised the difference between the 'Talents' imparted to Gaia Humans.
Though Common Classes all had similar level Class Skills giving 'Talent', not all of them were equal.
Some talents bloomed after a certain level of mastery, while others bloomed early on.
It was considered to be a more rigorous journey for those who bloomed later, but ultimately worth it.
It's similar to beginner avatars in an RPG.
When at Level 1, your character will level up quickly due to the amount of experience needed being lower. As time went on and you became more experienced, you'd gradually hit your 'Talent Limit'.
It was the absolute stopgap that couldn't be overcome through effort, only time could assist.
If you ignore the many prodigies around you, then you'd see yourself grow no matter how talented.
A blessing given to everyone...
For Arthur, he WAS born 'blessed' as a Warrior.
His swordsmanship sucked no matter how one spun it, and his talent had yet to manifest at all.
As a young boy, he realised that this mostly stemmed from his 'Sword Talent' having a higher necessary limit than most. Once he reached a certain level, his real strengths would bloom.
But that didn't change he needed to work hard.
This was one of the blessing only Gaia Humans could experience. Even if they saw no improvement over the years, the existence of their Class Skill just meant that their 'Talent' needed to be unearthed.
For the young Sword Warrior, this meant building himself from the ground up with the basics in mind.
He was taught the 'Light Swordsmanship', a style primarily used by those with speed and precision.
It was more the most easiest swordsmanship types to master since the magic circulation was easy.
The style didn't require one to take breaks and use ones head like Fire Swordsmanship or Lightning Swordsmanship. All he needed to do was swing his sword until the enemy was dead, but it was hard...
Mostly because... Arthur was just too hard to teach. His first steps as a Warrior were clumsy!
Despite his father's best efforts, the youth could only learn the movements of the sword... without the ability to connect them. He was like a pixilated fighting game avatar that rigidly followed 'rules'.
Every attack he made was like he was executing them off a textbook, creating a real big problem.
He couldn't 'interconnect' his moves...!
What did this mean? Well, let's say that the most basic talent a fighter needed was freedom in battle.
Rather than rigidly sticking to the textbook attacks given, it needed to be slightly altered for the situation. Swordsmanship needed freedom and flexibility, not rigidness to stick by invisible rules.
Without the ability to adapt, it was too easy for Beasts to enter between gaps and bit the user.
Even with the extra swiftness gained from being imbued with Light Mana, it wasn't nearly enough.
And so... his father offered one solution to him.
"Train only one sword stroke!" When Arthur first heard these words, he was thrown off his game.
After all, this meant giving up on 'swordsmanship'.
You couldn't master the sword if you only knew one sword stroke, but he understood his intentions.
Progression through devoting oneself to one move was easier than training many sword strokes.
That's why he chose one move in particular. It was a Skill that was the opening to many other attacks.
The most basic Skill that suited him!
[Sword Skill- Light Draw!]
A line of radiant energy would be made after drawing his sword, which was a basic 'opener'.
But despite how simple the move was on the surface, mastering it meant knowing all variations.
Slashing vertically, horizontally, to the feet, to the arms, to the neck, etc. There were many to learn.
On top of that, his older sister was insistent to make him learn different Attribute variations too...!
Lightning Draw, Fire Draw, Wind Draw, etc.
Just this one move put a lot on his plate...
At first, there wasn't much progress because he was a bit unmotivated despite constant efforts.
Knowing his talent would bloom later on made him feel a sense of inferiority to those who progressed early. While others were properly mastering the sword, he was stuck having only one move to use.
The sheer difference in hard work made him believe that he was less worthy than others were.
It made him think everything was pointless...
That was until a big event happened in his life.
His father was injured on the outskirts of their village thanks to a horde of wolf-like 'Monsters'.
Some called them 'Monstrous Beasts' or 'Danger Beasts', but the shorter name meant more to him.
To Arthur, all Beasts were 'Monsters'.
They were worthy of his anger and hatred, and worth throwing away his life to impart justice on...!
That night, he snuck out of his home and village.
Despite the night being the domain of Beasts, he recklessly charged into the den made by Monsters.
It was a pack of Direwolves!
All of them were armed with sabre-like fangs and sharp claws. Their faces distorted into a mess.
One might wonder what kind of 'God' brought these hideous creatures into existence. They were every bit like the stories told: All of them were bloodthirsty and vicious creatures starved for flesh.
But the young boy strode in fearlessly...
The possibility of death hadn't even registered in his brain. To him, death is what he dealt to others.
On his waist was his backsword and scabbard, with the red shirt on his chest meant to hide the blood...
The crimson fluid he'd cut out of his 'prey'...!
"All of you better come at me!" He threatened with a roar, and the wolves bowled before biting at him.
They were extremely coordinated. All of them bit towards the gaps he couldn't hide in his defence.
And he retaliated in kind.
His face twisted into that of a hideous animal that sought blood. The pure rage had went to his head.
Arthur fought like an animal...
His eyes were blind to who or what he was slashing at, only his blade constantly generated air slashes.
The practiced movements he'd executed hundreds and thousands of times before were 'applied' here.
Slash, slash, slash, slash, SLASH!
Beasts bit into his arms and chest. They tried to kill him whenever he tried to take an exhausted breath.
But their fangs were too shallow to him!
This was why I called him a 'phenomenon'.
Humans knew pain and fear, but Arthur was an incarnation of violence driven by his beliefs.
Until he let go of his sword, he wouldn't tire out or accept death. He'd continue to kill and kill in a loop.
This was his innate insanity...
It was at that moment that his lack of talent in the sword meant diddly-squat. Killing was his ends...
...and Sword Skills were just a means to get there!
Even someone untrained in the sword knew how to kill. This act was more 'human' than many realised.
Didn't Earthlings fight to get to the top of the food-chain? It wasn't through peaceful talks, not at all.
Time passed, and the outrage that had built up inside Arthur couldn't be quenched whatsoever.
Battle only made him even more annoyed...!
There was no 'release' for his outrage. Not even the eventual death of the Direwolves satisfied him.
He hungered for more killing and fighting...
It was his 'Essence' as a Warrior, and the reason he existed. His sword became the scythe of a reaper!
One robotic motion after another, his blade continued to seek flesh despite being 'blinded'.
It made one wonder who was the true 'Monster'.
He endless, tireless pursuit of death of those who he wanted to enact vengeance upon nurtured him.
Gradually, his Sword Skills became less stiff.
One motion lead into another, and the transition between each move became smoother with time.
Eventually, he reached that 'freedom'.
His true 'Sword Talent' was unlocked, and a new style was born based on his mastered Sword Skill.
It was the creation of his personal 'Iaido Style'.
At least, that's what they called it on Earth...
When he'd finally awoken, the sun had already risen. His eyes were were shocked by his actions.
Blood covered his body and the surroundings around him. The Dark Forest littered in corpses.
It was at that point a cold shiver ran down his back.
'Why... did I lose myself?' Arthur couldn't believe he'd became such a bloodthirsty and cruel figure.
He walked back home, and was greeted with a slap. His older sister screamed at him angrily:
"What's wrong with you?!" Not only had he vanished the whole night, he came back bloodied.
There was not a single part of his body that wasn't injured. Her slap only caused him to realise this.
He stumbled, and fell into her arms weakly.
Seeing him act this way, his older sister could only sigh deeply before handing him to the local Healer.
When he got back to his bed, he questioned himself straight away: Why did he do that?
To enact justice for his good father?
Perhaps, but he has lost sight of himself.
Rather than losing motivation, he believed all he needed to do next time was control himself.
And so... he snuck out the next night more easily.
The injuries he had were mostly healed, but the biggest reason he had confidence was his mindset.
He was no longer driven by outrage. The only thing Arthur wanted to do was sharpen his skills more.
And that's exactly what he did.
Even after 'unlocking' his Sword Talent, he continued to refine himself through constant battle.
Again and again and again, he challenged himself by becoming the one true protector of his village.
Even though dangerous Monstrous Beast sighting had become even more prevalent recently...
Even though family would be happier if he stayed...
Even though this wasn't his responsibility to take...
...still, he continued to seek battle... and 'justice'.
He tempered his Skills in the day, and fought at night. The fatigue building up would kill a normal adult man, and it even taxed his Life Force. His 200 year lifespan as a Gaia Human lessened with time.
Eventually, 50 years of lifespan was spent in his pursuit. He traded his livelihood for more power!
There was no real reason for why he did so...
He was just this kind of person.
Constantly hungering and fighting until he'd eventually lose everything in his pursuit of battle.
A flame that burnt himself more than others...
It was an illogical tale. Why was he so determined?
Perhaps only a Gaia Human could cultivate a mindset such as this using the words: "It's my job."
No, I am getting ahead of myself by comparing him to normal Gaia Humans. He's way too strange...
And yet, it was hard to take my eyes off him.
Some people can be described as 'burning flames' due to their charisma, outspoken nature, or power.
Te me, only Arthur was a true burning flame.
Not a warm and nurturing flame, not a bright flame that guides others. Just a hot fire to burn others.
He was a dangerous young boy with 'issues'.
But even such a youth would one day have to think deeper about his motive for pursuing justice.
Was his path truly one of justice?
Or was it just outrage and aggression?
There was a fine line between a justice-monger and a warmonger he'd acknowledge one day.
A 'Weirdo' like him wouldn't care, but since it was a question you readers would probably like to know...
...he WILL be put through the wringer!
He couldn't avoid introspection forever by fighting his problems. That was just how stories worked.
That was... the will of the Author.