https://youtu.be/u1RSQIVHTLg

"Man...I'm not gonna see any civilization for fucking years..."

He was alone, wandering through a wasteland, having gone much further in than when he was with Luc. Today, white clouds imposed themselves over the sun and the blue sky, and the rocky desert he found himself in looked the same as ever. Small rockforms and mini-mountains alike stood tall, watching the black-clad demon as he persevered through the craggy monotony.

Having trudged through this valley for a couple of days now made him despise Central Tali. It was so devoid of life, soul, and anything that could make him not hate it, really. Every now and then, a monster would leap out at him and try to kill him, and he would defeat it or retreat. He'd tried to make a game out of counting the tumbleweeds passing by, but he tired of that after waking up from his shelter the second day and forgetting his count.

Despite his utter boredom, however, one thing remained true - he was utterly determined to make it to the other end. For he had a client waiting for him in the south, and him happening to be in the north at the time of the request was not going to stop him. Already, he had single-handedly walked to the centre and beyond - technically speaking, he was already in southern territory by now. He could tell by the marked increase in temperature. Had it not been for his specific race, he would've been overheating in his black robes.

Along the way, things looked up a little bit as near a particularly tall rock, he saw a rare spot of green and blue. A thin patch of grass grew from the ground and surrounded what looked to be a large, circular basin of shimmering water. He smiled, recognising right away that he'd found an oasis - a rare treat in these badlands.

He approached it, humming to himself and kneeling before the water, staring at his reflection in it - his fluffy red hair, black horns and orange eyes, with pupils slitted like a cat's. Once he'd snapped out of his daze, he took a drink from the pool and sat down, setting his sword and bow down so he could rest for a little. He'd earned it, and hopefully his client would understand.

While he rested, he took the time to think about what kind of mission he was being hired for. His client had sent a messenger to deliver the note to him, and in the letter they were rather cagey about what the task was. All he knew was that he had to head to Suzaku City for details. He'd definitely be charging extra for the journey, that was for sure.

He listened to the sound of the west wind blowing, but as another sound filled his ears, he stopped smiling. A sound all too familiar to him, which filled his head with an uncomfortable ringing that he couldn't quite explain. Regardless, as he heard the clanky sound of metal boots marching onto the stone floor en masse, he opened his eyes and looked to his right, springing to his feet immediately and picking up his weapons, putting them back in their place as he kept a close eye on the people in his path.

These people were dressed like templars, and even though they were relatively far from him, he could already feel the holiness in the air just from looking at them, which got more palpable as they drew nearer. Each and every one of them wore immaculate chainmail armour, white in colour and visibly covering their heads and shoulders, while their hair was concealed almost entirely as a result.

He could also make out some chain-mail covering the rest of their bodies, but for the most part, it was covered in a white, loose-fitting robe with the large, stylized head of a white tiger emblazoned on the chest. On their hands, they wore bulky gloves of black leather, and on their feet, shoes of black steel. On their waists, they wore broadswords which, given their generic design, seemed to be standard-issue - because why would they bother properly equipping simple rank-and-file? He stepped away from the oasis and closer to the knights, intending to face them head-on.

As for the templars themselves, his brazen refusal to back down seemed to unsettle them, and one by one they drew their blades, still not saying anything as they marched on. And eventually, they reached him, standing in front of him with swords in their hands as the one in the middle, the tallest of them, stepped forward, shaking his head with a frown as he stared at the horned man. "You, demon."

"You, Tiger." was the almost sarcastic response, as the demon placed a hand on his hip, eyeing him closely. The armoured man narrowed his eyes, now seeming to raise his guard.

"So you know who we are..." he murmured. "...and yet you conduct yourself like that in our presence."

The flame-haired demon scratched the scales on his neck, an eyebrow shooting up. "Ah, sorry about that." he said, smiling casually. "I should show you some respect in your last moments."

"Such boundless pride, as expected of a demon." the knight frowned deeply, before quickly changing expression to a smirk. "I wouldn't be so confident yet. As we speak, the Knight and the Rook are closing in on our position!"

"Oho, really?" the demon's smile only grew, further disconcerting the armoured templar. "Finally sending the big guys out?"

His reaction seemed to spread confusion and anger into the other knights who had not yet stepped forth. They looked at one another, their eyes betraying the same emotion - they all wanted to put this lowly devil in his place, and his continued resistance was sin. His familiarity with their ranks, and lack of fear regardless - it was almost as though he'd seen this situation countless times before. Which made them wonder...

"As of late, members of our order have been sent on patrols with one objective - scout out demons and exterminate them." the tallest man said, the mouthpiece for all of their thoughts. "But they haven't been coming back - only as ashes, ready to be scattered. Know anything about that?"

"Does it matter how I answer? You're gonna kill me either way." the demon pointed out, gesturing to his own horns and scales. "Being born like this, haven't I committed a grave sin?"

"So you understand." the human nodded. "And that's where we step in - to cleanse your impurities from the face of our world."

"Ah, I see, I get you!" the demon commented, remaining cheerful as always as his hand crept closer to the hilt of his sword. "And, since you guys are so pure, that means if you die, the world becomes less pure, right?"

"Precisel-"

Before he could finish, the demon lunged forward, unsheathing his sword and thrusting the sharpened point into his enemy's eye. As he let out a pained scream, the demon dragged his blade along the knight's face, kicking his body away and watching as it fell to the ground. Swishing the blood off his sword, he looked at the rest of the men, who were now watching in horror.

"Good." he said, a cold look in his eyes. "Then let the world be drenched in impurity."

And in the blink of an eye, horror became fury, and an indomitable desire to avenge their fallen brother. They lunged towards the demon, who quickly scanned their actions and drew his sword again, his blade bouncing rhythmically off each of theirs and protecting him from harm. He retreated backwards, fully aware that the time for jokes had ended.

.........

In due time, he had successfully disarmed his enemies, with all of their broadswords knocked onto the ground and the templars worn out, holding themselves and panting, sweat running down their faces as they looked up, despair taking over them.

"Impossible..."

"H-How? How can a mere demon have so much resolve?"

What they saw when they looked up drained most of the little determination they still had left - they saw the demon himself, looking not much worse for wear. His blade was still in his hand, but as he looked down at them, they could have sworn his eyes were glowing on a face framed in darkness.

He said nothing, taking a deep breath and deciding to move on to the next step. He raised his sword above his head, ready to execute his fallen predators, when all of a sudden-

"Halt, demon!"

A voice, mature and bold, yet still distinctly ladylike, called out, and everyone, demon included, looked back to its origin - a woman, standing on top of the large rock by the oasis. The templars were visibly ecstatic to see her, but she was more focused on the demon in black.

Much like her allies, she was dressed in all white, but everything else about her told him that she was definitely special among them. Her hair, white and pure, was styled in a messy bun that blew gently in the wind, and her face was covered with a metallic mask of a white tiger with blue glass covering the eyes. As for her attire, it brought to mind a fencer, with a flowing white jacket accented with light blue, while the tiger sigil was present by her heart, traced in that same blue colour. Her trousers were white, as were her shoes, which had short heels. She had a sheathed sword on her waist much like he did - in her case, a curved sabre.

The demon, anticipating a more difficult fight, stepped away from the templars, lowering his sword and looking up at the new girl, curious. "You one of the higher-ups?"

The tiger-masked woman didn't say anything just yet, but seemed to keep her eyes on him, a sentiment he returned as the field fell silent. The two remained still as they put one another under ruthless scrutiny.

https://youtu.be/nGusAJYHcjo

Eventually, it was the woman who first made a move, drawing her sword and leaping off the rock and into the air, while the man stared, feeling amazed at her prowess. She made a perfect landing, too, and quickly charged at him, trying to slash him only to quickly get blocked.

Eventually, he knocked her away, and as she recovered, she approached him with her blade pointed directly at him. While he put on a cheery, slightly awkward mask, he slowly backed away, while she stepped forward in turn.

The templars, for their part, watched the scene, slowly reaching for their blades only for the woman to look behind her, shaking her head. "Don't interfere. He's mine."

They nodded obediently, falling back as she continued to stare down the demon, who seemed somewhat interested in what this woman's deal was. "I was told to expect the Knight or the Rook." he began. "I wonder which one you are..."

"You may refer to me as 'the Knight'." she said dispassionately, her expression indiscernible beneath her mask. "And you? Identify yourself, demon!"

"What, do you plan on calling me something other than 'demon'? Sure that's not a sin?" the demon rolled his eyes. "The name's Ashbel."

"Ashbel, you say?" she mused, dwelling on it for a short while before continuing to step closer. "It matters not. For the lives you have taken, and for the impurity you represent, I, the Knight of the White Tigers, shall vanquish you once and for all!"

"Alright, let's do this." Ashbel nodded, drawing his sword as the two of them readied their stances - the Knight was in a low stance, clearly ready to go on the attack, and Ashbel had assumed a more defensive stance and a watchful eye.

"Take care, Knight! This demon is a mighty one!"

The Knight scoffed at that, keeping her eyes on Ashbel. "A demon is a demon." she said. "And a hero is a hero. I can kill you, Ashbel."

Ashbel grinned at her assertion, making a beckoning gesture as he faced her, otherwise not moving from his stance. "Then what are you waiting for?"

"Hmph!" she huffed haughtily, and true to form, she was the first to make an attack. In a burst of speed, she lunged forth and performed a string of slashes, each cut swift as the wind. Ashbel, the slower of the two, was barely able to draw his sword in time, suffering a small nick to his arm before catching her rhythm and successfully parrying the rest of her slashes away.

She didn't let up on the attack, now moving in to deliver a flurry of stabs. But this time, he stayed just out of reach of her blade long enough to find an opening. He swung his katana, striking the base of her sword, a mighty impact that she could feel even through her hands. She paused her attack while she tried to keep her grip on it, just long enough for him to close the gap and punch her in the gut. Before he could follow up with a sword swing, however, she kicked him in the stomach and jumped backwards, landing on her feet a few feet away.

She shook her head, assuming a runner's stance as white motes of light began to rise off her body. "You're good for a demon, I'll give you that." she began. "But a demon's blade will NEVER be good enough!"

At that, she practically vanished, but the sound of her footsteps racing across the desert alerted Ashbel to the fact that she was simply running, using magic to move quicker than the eye could see. And at once, he felt her blade rake him, causing him to grit his teeth and focus, preparing to defend himself. His eyes glowed vividly as he kept his eyes fixed on the battle in front of him. He embraced the feeling of the Knight's blade slashing him countlessly, taking into consideration the speed of her footsteps, the angles from which he was being slashed, and the timing of everything going on in front of him. In the blink of an eye, he found himself perfectly aligned with her movements, and swinging his arms over his head, he blocked her slash from behind, and their blades struggled against one another, with the Knight growing audibly frustrated.

Eventually, Ashbel, being physically stronger, knocked her away and turned around to face her, while she struggled to regain her footing. On his face was a mildly-amused smirk, and if he had to guess her expression, he would've instantly jumped to anger - maybe a little surprise, too, as she stood there, panting slightly.

"That good enough?"

"Hold your tongue, you fiend! You think I'll hesitate to cut it out?"

"Not a bit. But let's see, anyway."

The Knight growled angrily and rushed forth, her footwork disjointed as she ran up to him and slashed him recklessly. His blade caught hers and swatted it away, but she, stubborn as she was, tried again, making multiple slashes in random directions as she hoped desperately that something would go through. Despite her obvious desperation, however, there was a certain grace to her fighting style even now. Her natural skill shone through, but he couldn't let it penetrate his. With his all-seeing eyes, he saw through her attacks and parried each one with great effort, searching for an opening.

"You're pretty good." he said, smiling a little. "Definitely stronger than your underlings, that's for sure."

"Hah! Like I'll let you manipulate me with your words!" the Knight scoffed. "I know how you demons work!"

"Hey, I meant it, really!" Ashbel protested, finding it difficult to break past her attacks. She was the unstoppable force to his immovable object. "How good's this Rook I've heard about?"

"He's your superior!" she spat, her attacks growing more aggressive by now, forcing Ashbel to keep up as he noticed her fury influencing her attacks, each one hitting harder with increasingly-erratic patterns.

But suddenly, he decided that maybe he could use this to his advantage. So, with a wide grin, he stepped back a bit, a short distance that was hastily closed, and said, "Awesome! Then that must mean he's yours, too, right?"

"Exactly!" the Knight exclaimed almost proudly, but after a moment's silence, his words began to dawn on her, and she loudly snarled at him, swinging her sword and locking blades with him as she leaned closer. "I mean, shut your mouth!"

In her anger, she pushed harder against his blade, summoning the strength to almost overpower him as he did his best to keep her at bay. He closed his eyes, focusing his strength and magic into the length of his sword as its blade glowed a bright, incandescent orange.

"Of course. The time for words has passed."

As if his swinging strength had suddenly increased, the Knight watched and visibly struggled as Ashbel's sword burst out into a brilliant crimson flame. She could feel the heat almost licking her skin and growled a little, trying to retain her strength even when it was clear that Ashbel had regained the advantage. He won the clash, knocking her away and staggering her a little, but he wasted no time whatsoever in delivering a triad of spinning slashes; first to her shins, then to her torso, and the last one, a quick, upward slash, all of which connected.

The third slash was notable in that it hadn't damaged her or anything. But as her mask made a clattering noise as it fell on the ground, cut in twain, both of them realised that it had most certainly connected. The Knight stopped in an instant, her face exposed, revealing her light skin and her cyan eyes, which had widened in shock. Immediately noticing what was going on, the templars gasped in shock, staring at their borderline-catatonic Knight.

Even Ashbel momentarily paused, stepping back a little as the flames on his sword went out. "Hey, uh...you good?" he asked, wondering whether or not to feel bad for what he'd done. But she did not respond, only feebly raising her sword, so he sighed, shaking his head and preparing to strike while the iron was hot, no pun intended.

He rushed in, holding his sword tightly, and prepared to lower it on her to deal the finishing blow, but when he slashed her, he heard a loud clanging noise and looked forward, seeing clearly that his sword had not struck flesh, but more steel.

https://youtu.be/xZS8yJiZ4AA

And the bearer of that steel was none other than a third combatant, who had appeared quick as a flash to parry Ashbel's strike. Contrasting the lithe young woman who stood behind him, this man was very tall, with armour that left even his face to the imagination. Dressed in a full set of battle-worn plate armour, which was white with golden trimmings, his most distinguishing feature was his helmet, a traditional fox mask covering his face and head completely. Seamlessly weaving together the aesthetics of knights and samurai, he held a long, silver nodachi in his hands, which seemed to have no trouble fending off Ashbel's strike.

The demon had to admit, this man was strong. Just looking at him, he could feel the experience emanating from him. He got to feel it when the masked knight pushed Ashbel back, then without wasting a single movement, stepped forward and struck him heavily with his plated shoulder, launching him into the rocky ground. Ashbel looked up, seeing the masked man approaching slowly and ominously, and laughed mirthlessly. "You must be the Rook."

"That is correct." the Rook spoke, his reverberating voice deep and lacking in emotion. "And who are you, demon of the flaming blade?"

"Ashbel Hagen." he replied, slowly standing up while the Rook seemingly allowed him, studying him very closely.

"Ashbel. You have performed admirably today. You managed to match blades with the Knight, and took on five men strong." he said. "In honour of your prowess, you have been allowed to live."

"I-I beg your pardon?" the Knight called out. "He's a demon! You can't just let him live!"

"Don't tell the King." the Rook looked back at the Knight, placing a finger where his lips presumably were. Then, he turned back to Ashbel, ignoring the Knight's confusion, and continued. "As for you, Ashbel Hagen, you have been spared. I hope you keep this in mind and act wisely from here on out. I would hate to have to kill someone of your caliber."

Ashbel looked up at the Rook, slowly shaking his head and sheathing his sword. "Yeah, I got it. I'll survive." he said.

"Then we shall be off. Collect your blades, everyone, and depart from this demon."

The templars nodded in acceptance, each of them giving Ashbel a mean glare as they moved ahead to take their swords as instructed. The Rook watched over this process silently, but the Knight, with a furious expression, firmly pointed her finger at Ashbel.

"Ashbel, was it? I'll remember that..." she snapped. "I'll remember your name and your face, and I will be back! And when I return, I'll make you regret your audacity today!"

"Sheesh, so dramatic!" Ashbel raised his hand defensively. "What's the deal? It's just a mask..."

At that, the Knight looked down at her fallen mask; a sign of her honour and dignity, now cleaved at the hands of this evil demon. She gritted her teeth, looking up at him, a burning vengeance forming in her eyes. "You, be quiet!" she yelled. "If not for the Rook's mercy, I would have your tongue severed where you stand!"

She then sheathed her sword, her blue eyes meeting his orange ones and never letting go. "Do you hear me, Ashbel Hagen?" she announced. "Whatever you do from now, don't forget that I, the Knight, will be back to finish what was started today!"

"I'd really rather not see you again." Ashbel sighed, narrowing his eyes before looking around, seeing the direction he had once been heading in. "Go rant to the Rook if you want. I'm out."

Before she could say anything, he began to walk away, and she watched him leave, keeping her eyes on him as she began thinking about how she would go about enacting her revenge, all while he walked away, none the wiser.

"Come, Knight. We are leaving."

Hearing the monotone voice of the Rook, the Knight nodded, snapping out of her thoughts and saluting quickly. "Ah, yes!" she said, rejoining the rest of her group and falling back under the Rook's leadership. After a while, the squadron, relieved to have only lost one member today, departed south.