TW: Violence, mention of death, self doubt
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Anthony's grip tightened on his shears, the cold metal handle kissed his sweaty hands as he tried to calm his thumping heart. His eyes wandered with utter restlessness trying to scan the tall green pine trees around him for any signs of movement. The sun was up in the sky but the light was deemed useless for him to see where Alucard and Trace would come from to attack him. A rustling sound could be heard from the trees followed by a sudden glint of metal from behind sending a sudden jolt through him.
He whirled around, just in time to defect Alucard's dagger with a resounding clang. He saw Alucard lips smirking, hitting his blade again with his own. "Still too slow, boy. Try again. " Alucard's voice was low, his eyes gleaming with mocking amusement towards him.
Anthony's eyes narrowed, sending daggers to his opponent. He gritted his teeth; pushing Alucard's blade away from his own. He lifted his legs to kick Alucard who in turn was quick to dodge his attempts. In a flash, the fenrir was nowhere to be found again; hiding through the thick leaves of the trees again and waiting for the opportunity to attack his student once again.
Anthony's breath hitched, a drop of perspiration fell from his forehead down to his face. He knew that it wasn't the end - he signed up for this. They were in the forest right now to train as per his request. He asked to be trained by Alucard and his uncle three days ago to prepare for later - the trials against the elders.
He closed his eyes, grappling with his senses to find out which direction his uncle would come from. It was a matter of seconds when his ears picked up a hissing sound from his side. Anthony tilted his body, a blur of motion materialized - Trace appeared and lunged at him with his two swords. He clenched his jaw, the strain of the battle was evident on his face. He met both's Trace heavy assaults with his shears; the metal was groaning under the impact of their clash.
Trace pressed his lips together, his eyes were stern devoid of any signs of mirth. "Try harder. " His challenging tone was hoarse; Trace disappeared with a faint mist.
Anthony hunched over slightly, his shears heavy in his grasp. His face paled as he gulped in air; his eyelids drooped. Fighting a prolonged attack was difficult but managing his mana was the bigger challenge. Summoning his uncle Trace took a significant toll and maintaining him by his side while also fighting caused his reserve to drain. But unlike the first and second time that he summoned him - this is considered an improvement - because he's not fainting unlike before and he could keep up with this for 3-4 hours a day before needing Vin's mana recovery.
It took Anthony a lot of convincing to ask these two to work together to train him. Two days ago, they were the one who ended up fighting and Anthony was left to witness and grovel around the huge gap between him and the two experienced fighters.
Anthony was standing face to face with Alucard in Artemisia's training room. None of them were speaking at that very moment and the numerous weapons arranged together inside the room seemed to be their audiences. The room was manipulated by magic - specifically by a huge yellow orb hanging on its artificial sky ceiling. The orb sucks residual mana from the people that uses the facility to maintain its looks. The place resembles an open space outside; the floor looked and felt like healthy bermuda grasses. The blade of grass even danced with the breeze present in the room. The artificial sky also has moving clouds making the place to be perceived real.
Anthony called Alucard to this place to ask him to further train him. He was well aware that although he could fight - his interaction with his uncle before proved that he's still not good enough and if he'd challenge different enemies to make sure that nothing will be taken away from him again - he needs to be strong enough.
His face was stoic as his golden orbs shone with quiet determination; he had that burning gaze that promised a thirst to reach new heights. He had never felt these feelings before - maybe it's born out of desperation.
Alucard placed his hand on his pocket, ending the silence between them by heaving a sigh. "I know what you're thinking, I can see it in your face. You can always count on me, " he told Anthony who was quite shocked by what he heard. He thought that he needed to further beg for him to agree afterall, their original training was finished and he was already left on his own.
Alucard was not blind, he could read it all. Still sighing, he placed his hand on top of Anthony's head; ruffling it gently. "C'mon, don't worry about it. We're a team, aren't we? I'll always be here to support you. " Alucard kindly smiled at him, his aura was different - that of someone nurturing which was new for Anthony who was always used to seeing Alucard with a serious expression plastered on his face.
But the next thing Anthony requested with his training was something that made him regret what he said.
Alucard's crimson eyes narrowed into slits, his set of canines glinting like polished daggers in the dim light. Trace, on the other hand, remained unfazed by the sharp glare thrown at him. His eyes held a blank indifference, as if Alucard's hostility was a background hum he'd long since tuned out or a child's tantrums that wasn't supposed to be a problem.
Alucard's voice, usually a smooth baritone, crackled with pure irritation. He hissed at Anthony, who stood awkwardly between them, "Why in the blood-soaked hell did you summon this wretch?" He gestured sharply at Trace, whose smirk only widened. Alucard wants to drill a hole on that face badly.
Anthony flinched, his smile strained. It was the first time he heard Alucard cuss so intensely. "I'm sorry, Alucard," he mumbled, "I know you... dislike Uncle Trace, but I need you both to train me."
Alucard scoffed, a dismissive puff of air escaping his nostrils. "Train you? You think you need that... that... reanimated corpse when you have me, much more capable than that bastard?!" His boast was laced with a hint of insecurity, a flicker Trace easily spotted.
The amusement finally spilled over onto Trace's face. He threw his head back and let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Better, are we?" He drawled, his voice a chilling rasp. "The last time I checked, you were still whining about my little barrier trick."
Alucard bristled, the mockery dripping from Trace's words like venom. With a snarl, he materialized his signature daggers, their obsidian blades glinting wickedly. "You want a rematch, deadbeat? I'll show you who's better!"
Trace's grin widened into a full-blown predator's smile. He raised his twin swords, their polished surfaces catching the meager light. "Always eager for a good brawl, aren't we, Alucard?"
Anthony, caught in the middle of their escalating tension, felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. He tried to interject, to plead for them to focus on their purpose, but his voice seemed to get lost in the rising tide of their animosity. It seemed a full-blown brawl was about to erupt, and poor Anthony was about to be caught in the crossfire.
Alucard was the first one to attack, he leaped forward hitting Trace relentlessly with his twin daggers. Alucard's attacks were precise and deadly. The daggers danced across his fingers, twisting and twirling with a dangerous grace. Trace, in a moment that resembled a blur, countered the assault with his own two swords, proving his movements to be on par against his enemy. The clash of their blades echoed to the air with a resounding clang.
"You're just lucky, you bastard! Let's see if you can still counter this! '' Alucard, fueled by burning rage, imbued his daggers with a crackling green energy. It encircled around his weapons, creating a small gush of winds; each promised a fatal pierce to those it'll hit.
He hurled them at Trace, who nimbly flipped over them. A grin was plastered on Trace's lips; secretly thankful of his new predicament—being dead. He doesn't need to breathe thus allowing him to become more agile than he initially was.
"You're quite a good joker, " Trace mocked his enemy with a chuckle. Mid-air, Trace launched one of his swords, using one of his feet to propel it towards Alucard.
With a wide smile, he formed a triangle shape with his fingers, channeling a crimson light around his fingertips. He chanted, "Cursed Webs of the Night Arachnid! " The red light morphed into sticky spider webs, ensnaring Trace's dagger and coating his own sword in an ominous red color, there was also black vein like lines all around his sword, slow movements were evident on these lines as if it made his sword a living being.
Trace was confident on this one. Unlike his clash against his nephew, Alucard doesn't have a dark element to negate it.
"Damn you, rotten piece of shit! " Alucard parried the sword with his remaining dagger. The impact resulted in his weapon getting shattered to pieces, something he didn't expect. His eyes went wide on what happened and sent a murderous glance at Trace who just smiled at him, showing his set of teeth that made Alucard angrier. Trace yanked his sword back using his web, ready to strike Alucard once again. He reared both of his hands up facing the sky, as if he's conjuring a storm. A sudden whirlwind danced around him, lashing wildly through the place. His hair strands danced with it resembling silver ribbons caught in a storm.
"Fangs of the Howling Storm!" Alucard bellowed, specks of green orbs appeared from his hands, as soon as it touched the storm he initially brewed, discord insinuated. The gale raged with such ferocity that debris danced a chaotic ballet, bits of fallen leaves from the grasses below swirled aloft.
The smirk on Trace's lips never faded, his heart didn't beat anymore but he could still feel that feeling when adrenaline rushed into one's veins. The tempest didn't faze him; in fact, he wanted to challenge it. He braced himself, his arms blocking his face from the bits of dust and dirt brought by the winds. It tore some fabrics of the suit he's wearing and undone the ribbon he used to tie his hair with, sending it flying towards the center of the storm until it reduced to numerous tiny pieces.
Alucard howl resonated through the place, bolts of lightning split the artificial sky with a thunderous roar. Its furious strikes found its prey - Trace whose skin already has several cuts due to the sharpness of the wind. He was fast enough to channel his crimson mana to his huge raven wings, using it to block Alucard's attack. With a flap of his wings, the lightning struck it, sending plumes of smoke coming from it, but Trace remained unharmed; smiling cockily against his opponent.
Anthony was standing meters away from them; he quickly ran away from those two the moment they started fighting. He could see it in their eyes that it felt like he was insignificant to their brawl and trying to stop them is something that cannot guarantee his safety. He was left in awe witnessing them fight with their techniques in both physical attacks and magic but it also made his heart heavy... he still couldn't be like them.
And it frustrates him that he's still weak. Anthony was lost in his thoughts and his feelings until he felt his world started to spin.
Before he blacked out, he was able to hear both Alucard and Trace's voices calling his name.
Anthony wants to do better and if it's still not enough to surpass them at least it's sufficient to stand by their side even if for a bit.
He took a deep breath and braced himself, propelling both of his blades forward. He charged both of it with two different magics - the other one on his right with his signature purple flames, it cackled softly as it fully embraced his shear while he coated the other one with a reddish-purple mana, hissing aggressively through the steel. It was the fraction of Trace's magic he inherited from their contract. He wasn't really keen on using it because he felt that he was just cheating and it wasn't his power but his uncle told him to use whatever resources he has because at the end of the day, it'll keep him alive when he's already on the battlefield.
"Focus, Anthony, " he reminded himself; trying his best to breathe - his heart was hammering on his chest and his hands were sweating profusely while gripping both of his weapons.
"You can do this! " He whispered under his breath. He knew different magic could work against Trace and Alucard, he had witnessed their battle before and somehow he noticed something.
Trace's curse magic works against other elements but dark attributes could withstand it or even negate it. Anthony's eyes wandered around his flame coated shear. He had fought his uncle before, he knew that it's effective but... trying the same technique once against an experienced enemy is dumb.
He also took note that the curse magic can work against Alucard. It might not cancel the effects of his element but it could be used as an offense against him. This is not his magic and he doesn't want to just copy his uncle's technique. It felt horribly wrong.
"Think, Anthony, think! " he pushed himself to find another way, beads of sweat made their way through his pores. He bit his lips in frustration, getting more pressured with each passing second because he could hear the rustling of the trees and how the air around him was getting thicker - they would attack him any minute from now.
Anthony, the creative writer, was used to conjuring solutions in his fictional worlds. Now, reality pressed in, sweat slicking his palms. The rustle of leaves and the thickening air sent shivers down his spine.
But he doesn't want to give up. His heart refuses to do so and maybe even his ego. He remembered writing a similar scene and he made his character trust their own powers. It sounded clichè - the average hero mindset... but will this make a difference to him?
How can he trust his ability when it is—death itself - the taker of all? One day, it'll make one crave it because of the absence of peace and when you clung on life and not wanting its presence, it'll surprise you by taking something away from you. It destroys until only dirt remains and you're left with nothing.
He fears it as much as he loathes its ideals. It already claimed so much from him. Ironic, that he's still drawn to it - from having a power related to it and being a forensic student and it is the same reason that fuels him to get stronger so that it won't take something away from him again.
If he would incorporate all of these feelings in his magic... will it wield a good result? Does trusting his own power mean acceptance and validating of his experiences? The fear - the anger - the flicker of resistance... everything.
Anthony was shaking his head in disbelief, chuckling to himself. His breath caught, his heartbeat thumped loudly on his chest. He gripped his shears tighter, a warm sensation rushed through it and to his blades. The shears hummed in his hands, they didn't look any different but there's a strange energy dancing around them.
The unexpected change drew the attention of Alucard and Trace who intentionally remained watching by the tree's branches - they couldn't miss their student's improvement. Trace blended quite well by the branches - seemingly perching like an overgrown bird with his raven wings.
They mutually hate each other to the brim but for Anthony's sake they decided to enter a temporary truce. A rare smile flickered on both of their faces, a thrill coursing through them they hadn't anticipated. They're both battle maniacs - hardened by countless wars; they find exhilaration testing their abilities and getting stronger but they never thought that a different flame awoke inside them while watching a new seedling grow to its full potential.
"Did you see that? I can feel that dangerous mana? It's so exciting! " Trace's voice buzzed with fervor, his electric-blue eyes gleamed lively. For a dead guy and an ex villain, the way he was acting was quite uncharacteristic for Alucard. "I knew it! Our bloodline is always this powerful! That damned Cyon! Hah! He must be blind for looking down on us! " He puffed out his chest, sounding like a proud uncle in a parent and teacher meeting who found out about his child's achievements.
Alucard's nose crinkled slightly, the idea of seeing Trace all cheery doesn't sit well with him. It might even bring him nightmares for countless nights. But Alucard admits, the deadbat was right. Anthony's progress is really something although the only thing that stops Anthony to further step up is his lack of confidence and by thinking of those people who was the reason Anthony this way made his blood boil.
He pressed his lips together and looked at Anthony's direction. Now is not the time for those people, they need to give Anthony what he wants.
"Agreed, " Alucard's voice was gruff. "But let's not make the boy wait any longer... It seems that he prepared something for us. " He raised his daggers, its surface now crackling with vibrant green mana.
Alucard charged in, jumping in the air, his element. He unleashed a storm of wind-forged blades alongside his physical attacks. Trace smirked, flapping his huge wings, he dashed towards Anthony, twirling his crimson-hued swords to prepare for another attack.
Anthony, seeing both of them deciding to finally continue their onslaught was calm, his golden orbs glinting with intensity.
Alucard and Trace never foreseen what transpired next. One was already dead while the other was still breathing but both of them experienced the sensation of death as if the grim reaper was there.
No, the underworld didn't take away their souls. They were still there but what it made them feel was the cold, suffocating silence that lay beyond the veil.
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