Pin drop silence reigned. One that was broken occasionally only by crackles of dying fire or cackles of lightning flashing across the sky.
It seemed as though nature itself paid golden reverence to the only living being over a distance of a thousand kilometers.
His head remained bowed. His black cloak dripped with blood and grime.
By his side, a sword bearing a magnificent classic runed hilt stood tall, stabbed like a banner into an overlarge slain multicolored scaled serpent nearby.
Just one of his many Espavro casualties.
A quiet wind whistled around, flapping still standing but defeated monstras.
Upright but frozen in death.
It sent an eerie hollow whistle through the crumbled remains of scales of all those monstras.
Smoke curled lazily toward a blood-red sky, painting morbid strokes across the dying sun.
The whole battlefield reeked of debris. Acrid smoke and blood filled the air.
Debris…a memorable flashback stumbled into his mind, making him smile.
Fires still burn around, consuming all in sight; a proof that it wasn't just a regular kind of flame.
Vultures circled overhead, whining in anticipation of a feast.
All these acted as a lucid testament to the gruelling battle that had ended a few minutes ago.
A quick glance at the horizon displayed hundreds of gigantic scaly corpses, all in different forms and shapes, burnt beyond recognition.
Just like an apocalypse. The whole army, obliterated in one stroke.
And yet, the dark haired teen, slightly panting, didn't care.
Not even in the slightest.
His glowing purple eyes still blazed with insatiable killing intent.
An aura of purple sinister warping energy cloaked itself thickly around him, giving off power that couldn't be likened to mortals.
Even the vultures, mere birds incapable of intelligence, could sense it. Thus, they dared not to go near the ground.
*You see how tired you are? You'd have just considered my–"
"Shut up, Backbiter."
The Sword, clearly a sentient one, fell silent instantly.
The black haired kid raised his head up, fixing his eyes on the horizon.
He nodded in satisfaction at the evidence of his bridled power.
'It's still not enough…You know already, don't you?'
As he sat still, the ominous energy cloak began to dissipate into the atmosphere, slowly and steadily.
The teen closed his eyes tight and opened them again.
The purple glow in them slowly faded away, reverting them to their original red.
"It depends on what I choose to do. Quit trying to make me talk."
The wind blew again, ruffling through his long lushy black hair. It reached all the way down to his waist, giving him a feminine look.
Except for the eyes. They held no warmth at all. Reminding only of fathomless depths.
Which, considering who he was, or rather "what" he was, shouldn't be a mystery.
'Don't the debris remind you of something, Ethan?'
A soft hiss told the Sword to draw his boundaries. Not to keep pressing his luck.
But Ethan didn't speak. He didn't even give any indication that he heard.
"You weren't there…so how would you know," a tint of skepticism was evident in his tone.
"I don't really know the details, but you sure talk in your sleep a lot."
Now, the guy called Ethan actually laughed.
The sound was unbelievably melodic. So unfitting of someone who could cause all this amount of destruction.
"Your idea of a joke's pretty lame, you've got to spice it up a bit."
Ethan's eyes remained sentimental as he turned back to the Sword, now silent.
"They do remind me of that day, when everything changed."
The sword called Backbiter didn't interrupt.
It seemed as though he drew a deep breath, listening with rapt attention.
This had to be a tale it'd been denied for a very long time.
"You already know about my clan, right…it's history and stuff.
The Ashborn house served as the royal bodyguards for the emperor, as well as head of the Espada, for generations without fail, until a certain house got too jealous.
The royal family was bamboozled into conniving with them to exterminate my clan. They had to find a valid reason, so the king's assassination was orchestrated by them.
To atone for that sin, the first of its kind, the whole clan repaid it with their lives, and no branches of the House were left.
But somehow –" Ethan's voice nearly broke at this point, but it held on, "– I survived."
"As the lone survivor left, I have a single duty, which is to avenge them."
The Wind whistled again as he ended his tale, breaking his symphony. But he didn't complain.
It somehow whistled mournfully, lacing his tale with some sort of theatrical flair.
Ethan glanced at the still sword, a look of confusion settling over his features.
"How am I supposed to know if I'm not talking to myself?"
"Well, I can't express myself, so…"
Ethan shook his head in disbelief, stretching out his hand toward the sword.
"Can't believe I keep forgetting to do this to you all this while…"
His eyes lit up with that same arcane purple glow from the start, and energy bustled around that hand again.
A violent outburst of energy erupted the floor around the sword in response, carving out slim radiant lines on its surface.
A graceful glow of light, enveloped it for a few moments, blazing like a second sun.
Ethan didn't even blink at all throughout the whole exercise. He kept his mind steady to avoid mistakes.
Slowly, the brilliance of the light receded till he could finally see through it.
When it dissipated in a flurry of sparks, a young girl, around the maiden age of twenty, sat on the floor, staring up at him.
Her innocent eyes surveyed his form, shying away as he glanced over at her nonchalantly.
"Please don't look this way, Master…I'm without clothes!"
She tried using her hands to cover her nudity from his eyes. Luckily for her, Ethan was no longer the pervert he once was.
Instead, he rose, turning away from her, to scan the horizon.
"I expected a boy, or better still a man. What a surprising turn of events…I've been hearing a male voice from a female sword all this while…"
A quiet whimpering from his back made him half turn, tilting his head sideways.
"What's wrong?"
"I never knew you were a homosexual, Master? Does that mean that you won't accept me?"
Disgruntled and disgusted, Ethan turned the remaining half circle to flash his blade a questioning glare.
When he did, he found her shoulders already lurching inwards, as though bracing for rejection.
His face softened, before changing to an amused one in an instant. He didn't know how she could mirror human feelings so well despite being just a sword.
But first, he had to clear his reputation. He couldn't have her spreading that around.
Especially not among…
"Hey, I'm not gay. I'm a perfect girl loving guy…don't get me all wrong."
The young lady in front of him nodded meekly, still avoiding his gaze.
"You're awfully quiet for the talkative blade I once knew," he commented, his lips parting in a mocking smile.
"Back then, I didn't have to worry about clothes," she shot back, temporarily forgetting her shame.
"So that side of you never left, eeh?", Ethan smiled for a fleeting moment, before a new thought bubbled up in his mind.
"Since I can't call you Backbiter, I guess it will be something else when you're in this form…maybe, let's see…Nebula?"
She lifted her head to latch her gaze upon Ethan's for the first time.
"It's a beautiful name. Thank you, Master," she spoke, her petite breasts quivering as she bowed low.
Ethan rolled his eyes dismissively. Master? I thought we were done with this topic?
"Drop the Master, and the formal tone, please. Can't have anyone around thinking that –"
"What are you planning to do after you get your revenge, Master?"
Ethan sighed, facepalming himself. Obviously, she hadn't even been listening.
He gave up, turning back to face the blood red setting Sun.
"Isn't it obvious? Get down to a nice quiet town, marry some good homely girl and live a fulfilled life."
Even as the words left his mouth, they knew he didn't mean it.
Nebula shuffled forward on her knees, till she knelt beside him.
She didn't speak, but Ethan knew what she was thinking.
He could access her mind after all. But she couldn't access his.
"There's a War coming", she said quietly.
The weight those words carried couldn't be emphasized enough.
"I don't care," Ethan replied in the same quiet tone she used.
Almost like a whisper carried by the wind to each other.
Nebula turned her head upwards to look at her Master's still structure, his trademark scowl in place.
"So you would stand and watch the World burn?"
Ethan didn't reply to those words. He couldn't.
Arguing that his involvement in the war might not make a difference was an invalid point. They both knew the power he possessed and its origin.
"At least for Iris, Clara, the Mistress and the others," Nebula continued, her tone pleading. Ethan could almost hear her eyes misting.
At first, Ethan thought he didn't care. The World could go to hell for all they wanted…aside his mission, he wasn't doing a single thing.
His mind sidetracked back to Nebula's earlier question.
Then he thought of everyone.
The good, bad and ugly. All of them.
Would he watch the World burn with them all in it?
He sighed, a sigh coming straight from the soul, one of exhaustion. Then he answered her question.
"To be honest, I really don't know."