Max Günsche. There was no contest, he was by miles, the greatest fighter Hans had ever seen.
The man taught him a lot. How to fight, how to approach fights and even many different fighting styles.
Though, Hans had never took the time to properly Master any of the styles, every now and then, he found it refreshing to brush up on those styles. To make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Yet there was never particularly anyone to spar with, the only man of similar height was Max. But regardless, he practiced the styles.
The sumo
The karate
The jeet-kun-do
The judo
Those were but a few of the numerous styles that Hans had learnt.
Weapons were not exempt. All forms of fighting were taught by the older man. Swords, knives, spears, bows, to call him a jack of all trades and master of none would be an accurate description of the soldier known as Hans Günsche.
Yet one thing stuck with Hans, something that his grandfather had told him.
"You may be proficient in weaponry, but your proficiency will never surpass your talent for fists. Boy, remember that while weapons provide range and ample opportunity to defeat your opponent, you as a person, your best bet will always be those fists of yours'." Weapons were useful, both for killing and keeping a distance while gauging the opponent.
Max Günsche, was a man who lived and breathed fighting.
_________________________________________
And here he stood, with the murasama in hand, feet drawn apart in the training room. Practicing a simple yet very well known sword style.
Iaijutsu.
Modernly known as Iaido or Iai.
It was his preferred style when fighting with a sword. To end the fight in a single swing.
It just so helps, he had found a sword that specialised in the style. One with a trigger that launches the blade from the sheath.
The only issue with the blade, was its length.
Lengthwise, the blade was roughly as long as a Katana. For a normal person, that would be no issue. But for Hans, an exceptionally large man, its range was lacking. What would be preferential would be an Odachi or an Uchigatana.
Schneller tod was far too long. And it most definitely wasn't an odachi, the handle was not long enough to be an odachi.
He could use the blade efficiently, that was true, but it still was strange to use the blade. Its length at a shocking 220cm, was around two and a half times as long as the usual 90cm odachi.
It had shocking range, but would be rather useless in cramped situations.
But the Murasama wasn't long enough either.
"Oya~? Why so deep in thought, Hans-kun?" Merlin had appeared behind me, her usual burst of flowers wasn't lacking in any of its usual flare.
'One blade is too long, one too short.' Hans observed as Merlin grabbed the red blade from his side, unsheathing the blade and staring at it for a moment.
"Japanese swords aren't my specialty. But, an amateur in magecraft I may be, I still know a few things." Petals flew through the air of the training room, and the blade seemed to lengthen and curve more, now more similar in length to that of a tachi.
"Hmm. Is this good?" Turning to her Master, the Magus of flowers, looked for his input and received a simple nod. "Alright then-"
'Magecraft... its different from magic. Isn't it?' A sly grin molded itself onto the face of the demon.
"Yes. To explain, Magecraft is used to re-enact mysteries that have scientific explanation where the caster uses their prana, their innate magical energy, to actualize the spell. An example would be fire magic, you need oxygen, heat and fuel. Using prana, you actualize the fire with those components. Whereas Magic, known as true magic, is scientifically impossible or at the very least, unexplainable." Interesting. He had never heard of magecraft, he lacked any form of magic. Which begs the question.
'How is that you are in this world?' Hans knew the old man he saw before passing out had something to do with his arrival. But Merlin's? He had a sneaking suspicion that no such interference had occurred.
"That... is a good question. I don't actually know. To explain how I'm even here, you need to know of the throne of heroes. The throne of heroes is a place that exists outside of time where great heroes are recorded and their tales become noble phantasms, trump cards of a sort. These beings ascend to a higher level of existence known as servants or heroic spirits."
'That explains your lack of a heartbeat.'
"Correct. This body is comprised of ether, there are no organs. Moving on, as you have guessed, I am a heroic spirit. Typically, servants are summoned in a holy grail war to battle against six other servants for the holy grail to make a wish. However, this world isn't even earth or a remotely similar world line. So in summary..." The magus paused, her face becoming serious.
"I've no clue~!" A tense moment of silence hung in the air, his heavy stare threatened to pierce Merlin. "You really don't like jokes..." dagger continued to be stared into the Magus.
And after a long moment, Hans got up and left. Taking his weapons with him.
"...Why's my master such a prude?" She would forever deny the fact that she was pouting.
_________________________________________
Weiss was barely conscious. Several bullet wounds will do that. All she could see was very bright light, everything was blurry, that was the only discernable feature of the room.
Was this an operating room?
The young soldier couldn't tell. It was all too blurry, she needed to know where she was. Using glyphs, weiss used them to enhance her vision. It was imperfect, amateurish even, but it helped somewhat. It was now like she was simply short-sighted.
And it was a bit clearer, now she could see that it was no operating room.
It was a flashlight being shined into her eyes by a female doctor.
"Oh, good. You're awake. I'll go get the general." Away the doctor walked, Weiss would've looked around the room if it could've done her any good.
But as it would seem, the general was already on his way here judging by how he had just entered her limited sight.
"Lieutenant Schnee. I haven't had time to gather an understanding of the situation, but right now you are in no state to report. I merely have two things to say to you, firstly, restrain your emotions. Raven was brought in and once she awoke, immediately she covered herself in the bed sheets of her hospital bed and just trembled. And... as a second note. Jacques schnee was assassinated by an... unkown... assailant. Nothing but a bullet wound left in his skull, as of now, we have no leads to the assailant."
Firstly, it seemed Raven was traumatised.
Ever so slightly.
And as for the second, it doesn't surprise me that the man knew. I was bleeding out right in front of his corpse. When I first became a soldier, I had never intended to kill him.
But then I realised...
He... was irredeemable.
"Yes sir." With what little strength I had at the moment, I saluted the general.
"Take a break schnee. Get your affairs in order, the last battle will be a siege on Salems Castle. I'm sure... that if you were to die, you'd want to die without regrets." I see. So this... might be the end.
That is... Good.
Get my affairs in order...
Well then, I suppose its time.
No more time for hesitation.
_________________________________________
Here I stand. Looking through a window at the snow of mantle, the snow covered city in front of me.
'Hans... I... have something to tell you.' Neo's soft voice called out to me, and I knew she was stood behind me.
'What's wrong?' There was quite the long pause before my... lover? Would that be the right term? Spoke again.
'After you told us, of your hallucination. I made a rash decision. And suggested a polyamourous relationship to the two involving you.' I... see. I was not aware they held feelings for me. Yes, I would say I am adept at reading people. But reading whether a person held romantic attraction is myself was foreign.
The issue with that is...
'Neo. I don't think I ever told you, how old i am. Neo, I'm not human, I'm one hundred and sixty 3.' I can guess that Neo would've gasped if she could right now.
'I don't mind you, because you are an adult. But Ruby and Weiss. Not now at least, maybe if they still hold such feelings in a few years, I would consider it. But at the moment, No.' Neo walked forward, standing shoulder to hand.
'How about we just chat, learn more about each other? I'll go first. My Name is Neopolitan Torchwick. My favorite colour is pink, i love ice cream and breaking the law.' That sounds... oddly refreshing.
'My name is Hans Günsche, I like the colour white, my favourite food is Sauerbraten, a pot roast from Germany. My homeland. To be truthful, I don't even know how I got to this world. Its not my own, but Magic I guess.' That's one of the greatest mysteries about this journey.
Who was that man? Who's heart is in my chest? How did he take me to this world?
'Alright, well... I don't understand your situation, but maybe you could make it for me someday, and we could eat it together.' I tried to move my left arm, well, that is progress. I can move all of my fingers, hand and forearm, but not any part of my upper arm.
It is still unusable in combat.
Though, I can probably puppeteer the necessary muscles and tendons. However, its speed will lag behind my other arm.
'Moving on, what are some hobbies of yours?'
'I like to read, Cook, and make or perform maintenance on weapons. Other than that... I... used to look after my sister.' That, is a sore spot.
As much as I hate it, I... feel like I should trust her with this, Weiss and Ruby already know.
'A cheerful girl. And never held any hate in her heart. She's... dead now.' I... couldn't help but ball my hands into fists at the memory.
Yet I could feel her small hands unwrapping my left fist and holding my hand.
This... it really is strange. Opening up to someone.
Yet... my chest feels lighter.
If only slightly.
"So here you are, Hans, Neo." Behind me, I heard Weiss. So... she was here now.
"I... assume Neo has already made you aware. But nonetheless, since I may die on this mission, I wanted to make myself clear. I, Weiss Schnee, love you, Hans Günsche. Despite my little understanding of you as a person, I find myself entranced with you and... want to know you more." Each word, I could find not a single falsehood in them. As if poured straight from the heart.
Using my shadows, I started to write as I turned to her, Neo having already let go of my hand.
'Weiss, do you know what I am?' To be honest, I want her to fully understand. Just... what I am.
"A victim. You... are a victim. A victim of Humanity. To be honest, other than that, I couldn't tell you anything else." Such an... apt... description.
'My name, is Hans Günsche. I held the position of captain in the German army. I have committed atrocity after atrocity not of my own will. And I, am one hundred and sixty three years old. If you still hold these feelings in a few years. I will... consider... a polyamourous relationship.' I... don't expect her to hold onto those feelings.
"Alright then, that's find with me. I can wait. And then, we shall find out whether my love is true, or vile lie to myself. Won't we?"
I now had a feeling, that she wasn't going to let go of her feelings.
_________________________________________
Omake- tale of dickbag
Space itself seemed to tear apart, making way for a single, tall and suspiciously dressed man. The man seemed just as confused as the phenomena itself.
What was he doing here? No, where was here? Looking around, all the man could discern was that he was in some kind of destroyed Chapel, rubble was everywhere, and it seemed as if a massive beast had been thrown at the Chapel...
Considering half of it was gone.
First order of business, establishing this place as a base of operations. Right now, it would not do.
This place needed to be fortified.
And ice will have to do.
"Cease your actions! Pray tell what thee is attempting to do with this fallen Church?" A strangely mature voice called out, and I turned to that voice to see an appearance that while strange, it matched that mature voice.
I saw a man dressed in... poor quality clothes, cyan hair and beard with his left eyes sclera being completely red and a blue pupil. His right eye was bloodshot with a red pupil. He stood at approximately 5ft 7 and the man had an old, dusty staff in his left hand, it looked so fragile, as if it may break at any moment.
And in the remaining hand, he held a simple Estoc.
"Who are you?" My shadows wrote in the air, and the man seemed to weigh whether he should tell me, before ultimately puffing out his chest.
"I, am a scholar of the vinheim dragon school, a man who does not fear death, a man who has slew every foe that stood before him. I, am Frumple Dickbag!" One second, two seconds, three seconds.
This isn't a joke, is it? No, I must've misheard him. Alright, this is a bit rash. Shadows inside of my upper left arm started to shift, alright. My left arm started to move, this is delicate. Now, with all my might, I struck both sides of my head with my palms. Deafening myself.
A few seconds, and my hearing was back.
"What did you say your name was?" A distraught look crossed his face.
"My name, is Frumple Dickbag! What is so wrong with it? It is a common name where I'm from! In fact, my father shares my name, I am the second!" I thought I had a resistance to drugs with all the ones the doctor forced into me.
It must be a really strong one.
"No longer will I tolerate this mockery! I came here to investigate a gut feeling, ready yourself-" without wasting time, I leapt off my feet, throwing my entire body into a full powered dropkick.
His head flew from his shoulders.
It splattered across the Chapel wall.
That... is it? I expected more-
"You're a quick one." Stabbed? From behind? That voice, it was him! The man he had just killed.
Shifting his centre, Hans threw the back of his fist into the side of Frumples head, launching the dickbag a fair distance away, around forty metres. Removing the estoc from my back, I shattered the blade with my grip.
"Dickbag... how are you alive?" My wound closed as the man got up after my blow, blood streamed from the left side of his head and the man reached behind him to pull out some form of... pot? Vase? Where did that come from?
Dickbag held the pottery up to his lips and seemed to drink something from it, a golden light radiated off of him as the bleeding stopped.
"Brace yourself, Warrior!" A scroll materialised in the hand of the grizzled veteran.
_________________________________________
As the scroll fully actualized, two skeletal warriors clad in broken armor and wielding spears, the undead warriors rushed toward the werewolf who leapt into the air, twisting his full body and using his right arm to punch one undead in its skull, while striking the other skeletons throat with his right leg.
Just as he landed, Frumple had closed the distance once again. And his hand was going somewhere.
Somewhere very bad.
Frumple was reaching for Hans Tree trunk to twist it free of its roots. And he got a good grip, with a swift movement of his wrist, the trunk twisted but no noise was made.
Hans slammed both hands onto Frumples head, getting a good grip of the bottom and top of his head.
'Shit-' a single jerk of his hands snapped the Dickbag heirs neck. His cold corpse falling to the ground lifeless. But strangely, the skeletons seemed to reanimate but the captain quickly stomped the skulls to dust in the wind.
Hans turned as he smelt fire, seeing Frumple Dickbag once more and sat next to a bonfire burning from the blade.
'A change in strategy is necessary.' Frumple dickbag stood up once more, his estoc having returned to his hand.
"You, what are you? Clearly you are, Maidenless yet your strength eclipses mine." Hans didn't respond. "Fine then, Soul arrow!" The German narrowly dodged his end, before Frumple dickbag flew past cutting the mans arm with his estoc.
'What a speed increase.' Hans looked back to the man, seeing him now riding on horseback. A double horned horse, a dreary and dirty brown coloured fur with a light blonde mane.
"Twice now you've killed me. Yet no wound that I give will scar your flesh." Dickbag reeled his arm back, readying a thrust to the skull. Hans similarly prepared, black shadow armor covering his skin and going all the way to his neck.
For a second time now, he had donned Kommandants armor. And then, the blade appeared in his hand. The blade being wielded in his left hand, the shadow made sheath firmly gripped in his semi-operational hand. Drawing his feet apart, he gripped the long blade and stood ready.
A tense silence hung in the air, waiting for the horse to charge.
"Great Soul Arrow!" A considerably faster arrow launched from the relic of a staff, torrent, the horse, breaking into a dash at the same time. Hans couldn't fully dodge and strike at the same time.
The man moved his face, the arrow grazing his face and causing bleeding. But at the same time, Hans unsheathed the blade, striking both horse and Dickbag at the same time. Bisecting the horse and his rider in one fell swoop.
Now, how many times would this go on for?
Turning back to the bonfire, there he was again, significantly wrinkled and with a tint of green to his skin.
'3 more trys. I have no human vestiges on me.' Abruptly, the man threw his clothes off revealing he only wore a fundoshi along with his hairy body akin to that of a dog. Even dropping his staff, leaving only his estoc.
Hans was befuddled. What was he doing? Swinging his sword vertically, his one handed strike was dodged by a roll from the man. Again, he struck but this time horizontally, yet the man had rolled again, making his way to his left side.
As the man readied his estoc, a fist flew into his jaw, a breakage of the man's jaw being felt in the prodigys' fist.
'That strike wasn't lethal. My left arm can't strike with full power.' Reachning behind himself, the man pulled out the golden pot again and chugging it back. However, Hans couldn't just let this happen.
Puppeteering his left arm again, he struck the back of the flask and though the mans wounds had healed, he now had a newly broken set of teeth. Taking advantage of the moment of shock, the soldier grabbed the man, lifting the living prune over his head...
He slammed the man down onto his knee, with such force that the man was split in twix. His bloodied remain staining the armor and floor like paint on a canvas.
'Two left. I don't think I can beat him.' Frumple opened his mouth in an attempt to barter with the man, imagine his shock when the man had gotten so close to him, sticking both hands in his mouth, and with one agonisingly slow motion he tore the mans face horizontally in half.
Blood gushed from the corpse, but he waited as blood stained his face and hair, as many times as necessary.
Once again, the man reappeared next to him at the fire. Dickbag swung his spear in vain, but somehow, the man was already behind him.
'Its time for you to disappear.' Those were the last words that Frumple Dickbag the second ever saw before a bloodied gauntlet punched through his stomach.
And like that, the man was gone. No resurrections left.
All of the mans corpses disappeared. Leaving a single message behind in the stone.
Still No Rump
_________________________________________
How's it going everyone. Today's chapter was a serious one wasn't it. Many feelings portrayed and emotional conflicts.
I shall see you later.