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-Deep within the Dividing Peaks, Aeraegis, Y’thica-
At the edge of the underground lake, the bottom glittering with the magic and shine of countless black and grey dragon scales… Dracul was busy in his scrying and recording recent events into one of his many record tomes, his black plumed quill scratching away into the paper.
“--Wano’s power has been restored in the North, fragile and fleeting that it is… Protected by the likes of a wily pirate… And returned to our divine protections… Now the boy is Aquaos’s headache proper” Dracul spoke to a lazily dozing Twilight Bahamut, coiled up on the cavern’s floor as snug as a sleeping dragon should be.
And while he spoke and rambled, she only hummed to him in acknowledgement, she was listening, for the most part, “And heard from him that they’re heading to Egghead Island, I suspect Soniker will be having his fun with that… ?” he trailed off as the pool suddenly rippled on its own accord.
Twilight Bahamut barely stirred as the soft, pleasant, echo of chimes filled the cavern, the scrying pool ripple and bubbling, frothing and glowing with a familiar silver light. And among the ripple and frothing, soft silvery bubbles begin to float out and pop on their own accord.
“Moonlight?... Lunar Bahamut calls?... On a newing?… Hmn… Must be serious” Dracul hummed, lazily popping a bubble that floated up from the froth with the sharp point of his quill, before setting a hand in the water, answering Lunar Bahamut’s call.
“Heed unto my call, brethren of Night” the clear, chiming voice of Lunar Bahamut echoed in Dracul’s skull.
“I hear you- what brings you to reach for me on this moonless night, Lunar’?” Dracul idly asked, grunting as a larger bubble popped onto his snout.
“I witnessed for moons the agony of one of my protected”
“Which one? Alber? His daughter Esti? Cha’ac? Even Cecil or Judge Theodor?” Dracul wondered, though grunted as the chimes echoed into a cacophony- it was obvious that Lunar Bahamut wasn’t in the mood for playing guessing games “... Ah, THAT one… “Rykard”, was it? Let me witness just where he is…” Dracul muttered, bringing out a Lunarian Feather from his personal cache of items, flicking it into the scrying pool.
After some fizzing and popping, an image of the Lunarian he was seeking came into view… and it was a grim image indeed.
Among the ashes and fire of a recently wrecked ship, a tall, dark hybrid, of oni and Lunarian, was busy ripping into the raw flesh of some poor sap, a wild smile and look in his red-orange eyes. His black hair and curved horns were soaked in the blood of those he’d recently slaughtered. But in watching him pause in his eating and turning away from his prize- Dracul was aware that Rykard’s rampage was nowhere near complete…!
“Oh… Oh my” Dracul paused as he dismissed the image, not wishing to see what would come next. Don’t take him for a coward- with his great age: Dracul was absolutely not a stranger to violence, but there was something in the young man’s eyes that made him… more than a little concerned.
“Grief and hatred cloud his mind… and with each slaughter he partakes with, he muddles my protection of him- what started as an effective farce to protect his family has warped into a maelstrom of self hate and violence…” Lunar’s concerned tone echoed clearly in Dracul’s ears.
Dracul paused and thought, though muttered aloud as he processed the information before him, limited as it was-
“And if he keeps going… that divine protection he has in his bloodline will pretty much be gone… and all it takes is one bite from those infernal beasts for him to succumb into a daemon… and we can’t have that- Ardyn already has a strong enough ‘toy’ in the form of that blasted puppet… ” Dracul muttered, before getting an idea, a crooked grin coming across his muzzle, “... I suppose I could interfere in his rampage… and give him a gift if he succeeds”
“You have my blessing to do so… I chance you know what to give him?” Lunar wondered.
“If he can beat me, he can have it” Dracul said cryptically, before sensing Lunar's skepticism that just oozed out of the scrying pool's water, “Oh, don’t worry about it… Just trust in me, won’t you?”
With a more melancholic chime, Lunar Bahamut’s magic left the pool, leaving Dracul and Twilight Bahamut alone in the cavern.
That’s when Dracul really started to think on what to do next, though his partner stirred behind him, huffing a familiar puff of hot air down his back.
“Oh relax… as much as I could kill him- your brother would kick up a century's worth of fussing that neither of us want” Dracul sassed playfully, earning a facefull of ash snorted right into his face, “Gyack! <cough cough>!”
“Cease your stalling and find what you wish to give him…!” Twilight rumbled with a drawn out growl.
“Oh fine, fine” Dracul huffed before disappearing within his shadow, not wanting to test her patience further.
Oh, he’ll find a fitting gift for this wayward youth, alright…!
-opopopopopopopop-
-five miles off the shores of Eblan, Azul, West Blue-
Smoke and ash filled the air as the latest victims of hubris and spite burned all around. The noises of agony and begs for mercy were drowned out by the roaring flames of shattered ships and the concussive banging of their cooking off powder rooms.
And in the center of this aftermath of violence, on the remains of a shattered flag ship, lounged the tall figure that was proud of this mess.
Laying back on a makeshift seat of plundered loot, his sword, snug in its black scabbard, propped within arm’s reach, against an equally large pile of treasure… intermixed with the scattered bones of the ones he’d just finished eating, while currently devouring some poor soul, not even bothering to roast them alive.
Here he was- Rykard, the Beast Pirate’s “Jester of Death”, Kaidou’s so-called ‘true heir’ to the Beast Pirates- all of that strength and potential in the world!...
…
Now reduced to nothing but a destructive monster and surviving like a vulture- picking clean the bones of pirates and marines alike: anything to get the World Government Coalition’s attention off of his mother and sisters.
His red-yellow eyes, blinking past the smoke to look up at the dark choked sky, his eyes locking on the thinnest sliver of the silver moon's crescent, he'd been fighting for an entire night and ‘day’, maybe two of them, when he gets like this, time just slips away…
Pangs of guilt swelled and swirled within him, he’s been doing this for weeks since the liberation of Wano Province in Aeraegis, yet it felt like a lifetime… And now it felt like his own divine blessing was beginning to forsake him.
Was Father Lunar Bahamut disgusted with His wayward hybrid of a son? Will he succumb to the darkness that was choking all of Mythos? Will he ever find his best friend that had disappeared in a shadowy blast of purple-white flames the night of the Raid? Was his older brother doing okay…?
Shaking his head in trying to free himself from these thoughts- Rykard’s attention was back on whoever he was eating- it felt so… disgusting to eat it all raw, but at the moment, he didn’t fucking care. His sharp, curved, almost scissor-like, canines so easily ripped open the carcass with a mere twist of his head.
Blood and other fluids from the corpse slicked his hands, dribbling down and joined the sticky mess that caked his pants, hands, and face. His black fringe that draped over his right eye was sticky, saturated, and practically dripping with the blood of his foes from this clash and previous others before it… Nothing but iron and bile was filling Rykard’s senses as he crushed and chewed.
But before he could completely swallow this mouthful- his Haki flared… Something… or rather someone was boldly stepping out, through the fire and smoke… and making their way towards him.
A deep rumble of a snarl filled Rykard’s throat as his whole body tensed as he unleashed his Conqueror’s Haki with a primal roar at this one particular individual, black and red bolts of energy filled his vision as he tried to make them come no closer, to at least knock them out as a form of Mercy… He wasn't in the mood to keep killing…
…
...
And yet… They dared to come closer…?!
Rykard felt his dirty mane of black hair flare at the brazen challenge. Just who was this person?
Sitting up from his throne of plunder, Rykard strained through the smoke to see… and he spotted a dark silhouette striding, hovering just feet over the sea and debris.
The stranger stood before him… so short in comparison to Rykard, but at least tall for a human, and held no outward fear to him… At least that's what he could gather, as the human had obscured their face with a grey mask carved in the likeness of… a horned fruit bat??? With glowing yellow-green eyes peering out from the mask's eye holes.
The stranger let out a soft whistle at the sight of him.
“My, oh my…” they hummed out.
All while watching as Rykard started to stand to his full height, while glowering down at them with his left eye, getting a wild grin on his face, the remains of his meal- now nothing more but a strip of skin with barely any meat left on it, just offal and viscera and scarce remain of bone. The air practically thrummed with his Conqueror’s Haki…
And yet, the stranger didn't even flinch, in fact, he started to… Laugh?!
“ F'shihahahaha! Well aren't you a mess… and a loooong way from home, Rykard Yuuhi” the stranger spoke with a sing-song tone that just grated at Rykard's nerves. All while keeping a hand behind their back, gripping a black rod of some kind, but made no attempt to hide it either.
Spitting out the strip into the water, Rykard sneered back- “Who the fuck sent you here… Cipher Pol? The Underworld? Or just a confident fool here just to piss me off?”
“Hm~ well, I suppose you can say I've been tasked with you by a higher being of judgement” the stranger hummed with a shrug.
“Hah! so the Elders of Marie Geoise ‘On High’ want my head now?” Rykard roared with laughter, before spitting into the water, growling, “what a joke…”
“Hmn… the only joke I see before me is you, and you know it, Rykard-sir… and I can smell it all the way over here, you're drunk! Drunk like the man who fathered you” the stranger verbally gouged at Rykard's sore pride, “I bet you're no stronger than either- you'll be an easy mark for me…~!” Their glowing yellow-green eyes squinted with an obscured smile.
Rykard let out a deeper snarl, but laughed at the challenge, “I'll take you with me, old bastard, you'll be crushed by me before you know it… what do you fight with?”
The stranger decided to show instead of tell, with a flick of his wrist, the rod extended out, and with a singing spark of magic, emerged the signature curve of a weapon rarer than even the gunblades of landers: a true war scythe!?
Rykard felt a chill creep through his back as the stranger easily wielded the scythe like a dancer, before looking up, directly at Rykard, yellow-green eyes meeting red-gold.
“Here's my wager, you defeat me, you can have this…~!”
“And if I lose…?”
“Then I collect your head!... Now… As the Prophet Waka once said during better times…” The stranger announced, their yellow-green eyes squinting tighter as Rykard wordlessly accepted the challenge by grabbing his sword and unsheathing it from its scabbard.
“Let's rock, baby~!”
-opopopopopopopop-
That drunken bolstered confidence that Rykard once had when he accepted this challenge from this stranger was now melting away faster than snow over a raging fire.
The fight had started overseas, among the wreckage, but with the stranger’s agility and jeering- they had taken this fight across the water… and onto the shores of a beach to the north. And despite Rykard’s most powerful attacks and spells, even turning some of portions of the beach's sandy dunes into waves of molten silica that was cooling into dull greenish glass- the stranger still stood tall, defiant, confident, their yellow-green eyes were practically glowing with the excitement of battle.
All the while, the stranger's scythe blade practically sang with each expert and agile swipe- even as it clashed against the edge of Rykard's sword. And despite Rykard’s Armament Haki flaring to block the attacks when the scythe struck him… The scythe’s magic infused blade bit and sliced through his defenses like cutting through paper.
And in their wild, drawn out fighting, the once pristine beach had quickly become stained with a mix of dull green to reddish black. Entirely from Rykard’s fire and blood.
Rykard staggered after a particularly strong blow to the gut from the stranger… and it was strong enough to make him fall to one knee and just… vomit up the mix of alcohol and flesh he’d enjoyed hours earlier. And with it… Finally the haze over his mind was clearing… Was... Was he finally sobering up after so long?
“Oh? Sober enough?” the stranger barked tauntingly, finding purchase on the cooled glass after jumping back a fair distance away.
“Fuck… You were all chatty earlier, now you have nothing to say?!” Rykard growled and spat out hoarsely, his throat and mouth burned and he had nothing to quench it.
They plainly shrugged, “What else is there to say when the proof’s right in front of me?” the stranger’s tone changed from sing-song to serious, “Are you a beast of the field that deserves to be executed as such?”
The question made Rykard finally look up at the stranger with confusion. What was this bastard talking about?
“I’ll say it again… Are you a beast of the field, fit to be slaughtered… Or are you a proud Son of the Moon that should remain alive and fighting!?” the stranger practically howled the question, the stranger’s once squinting yellow-green eyes now wide, and shone with a particular coldness in combination with the firelight flickering in the reflection of them.
Rykard wasn’t sure, but something about that question just resonated with him. It burned at him, it drove him to move to stand, grabbing his sword and standing ready- his stance having changed from cocky to more confident…
The eyes of the stranger squinted, subtly, in a smirk, “Good… Now, let’s get more serious, shall we?!”
Rykard didn’t dare hesitate in lunging first this time.
The darkness lightened to a sort of gloom as they kept fighting. But despite Rykard having gained an advantage over this stranger- his body had other ideas.
He’d been on the run for weeks, and been ignoring the signs of exhaustion for just as long…
And it started with his legs.
They just gave out on him and he crumpled onto the beach like a wet paper doll. And as he collapsed, weeks worth of exhaustion finally overtook him and weighed him down like there was tons of weight propped atop him. Rykard’s heavy eyes watched as the stranger strode over to him, his figure getting blurry by each slow, steady, step.
Looks like… he was finally going to lose his head after all… Rykard hoped it was quick… He fulfilled his purpose, at least… What his Ma expected of him…
And as he barely saw the shadowy outline of the stranger’s boot right in front of his face… Rykard’s vision finally went dark.
-opopopopopopopop-
Rykard awoke to a dark shadowy sky… and quickly sat up, where the hell was he? He looked around, blinking in the darkness, and wincing at the hangover headache that quickly pierced him through his skull. Ooooh gods, he really was delaying the inevitable…
But as he endured the pain, he looked around still… He was on the forest edge, he’d been dragged away from the beach he and that stranger fought on and pretty much ruined… The moon in a full crescent hung low in the horizon…
Alright, he’d slept away at least two to three days… and certainly felt like it.
Ugh. He was still such a mess, especially as he looked over himself his tattered and near ruined clothes clinging to his grimed up dark bronze skin… He’d kill for a soak in a hot bath…
Though he can’t help but wonder, where did that stranger go? He moved to try and stand, but he felt something shift and slide in his lap- the hell?
He looked down… and clacked with his sheathed sword was a dark black pole that fit well in his hands… Was this the scythe the stranger fought him with? Though he noticed something tied to his sword’s pommel… a polished amulet, crafted from deer antler…
Wait a second, he had saw something similar pinned to the farmer’s yukata… Yes! The one that took him, his mother, and sister in when they hid in Kamiki… a glamor charm… and he could feel the magic as he turned it over in his palm- it was a potent spell.
But before he could mess with the amulet, he looked over the scythe… and with a pulse of his own magic, got it to open…
And had the most chilling realizations upon getting a proper look of the scythe’s blade. Sure, it was a black-blade, infused with magicks that emulated one’s Haki… but there was a pattern in the metal, that of a bat’s wing…
Then the truth finally hit him like a thousand bricks.
He fucking fought with His Majesty- Dracul Dennsky, the KING of Mythos…!
And the fact that Dracul had let him live was a sign… A sign to change himself… He’s gotten far and away enough from Y’thica and from the Paradise portion of the Grand Line… Maybe it was time for a change…
Carefully standing, Rykard looked out to the sea… He was born out at sea, and knew its ways well enough, at least from the lens of a pirate… Maybe it was time to disappear onto land… but for now, he needed to recover and rest… and get more answers.
And he looked out to the forest… then up. Looming in the distance was the massive tower of blue and black century stone… was the Tower of Babil. The last Lunar Gate…
He highly doubted that he’d be allowed to activate the gate… but he at least wanted some answers to some questions that still gnawed at the back of his mind…
Since Nika… or ‘Nika-chibi ’ as Landers seemed to call him, was true after all (and that Strawhat was now his chosen or something similar?)… then who was it that made it so dangerous for the Lunarians to remain on Mythos?
-opopopopopopopop-
As Rykard disappeared into the woods, a roosting bat and a purple silk and armor clad ninja watched on.
“Causing hell as usual, Your Majesty?” the ninja growled, light blue eyes giving a side-leer to the roosting fruit bat.
“Needed hell for this young one, Edge Geraldine- much like you with Rubicante” Dracul hummed with a wide yawn, “If the World Government Coalition comes sniffing around, this conflict didn’t happen”
“Considering my brother in arms IS a hybrid like this one… Yeah, this never happened… And what of the Tower?” Edge made Dracul look at him.
“He may enter it, but know that he won’t ever really visit the Moon, since Judge Theodor has the true key to the actual gate” Dracul said… before biting Edge’s hand to make him let go of his ruff.
Edge grunted and let him go, “Either way, until he moves on, we’re still going to keep an eye on him”
“As you should, since, as your forces witnessed, he’s more than capable of violence” Dracul said, grooming one of his wings out of boredom.
“And another thing… should I inform Cecil?”
“That’s your decision ultimately, but I won’t blame you if you told him what happened here” Dracul shrugged, “But for now, I need to return to my own territory before Lunar grumbles about it”
“Take care then” Edge flatly said with an exasperated sigh, watching as Dracul disappeared by way of a puff of dark magic. Leaving Edge with one final thought before he also moved on to track Rykard from a distance.
Gods what the hell happened out at sea that brought such a monster so close to his kingdom?!