I was surprised.
Mildly, that is.
But in hindsight, it makes sense.
I dodged a quick thrust at my eye, then I used my sword to deflect another that was aimed at my heart.
A flurry of thrusts came at me, a sharp blade aiming at all my vitals unceasingly.
Just purely fast and precise.
The iconic strategy and martial prowess of Achilles simplified into a few words.
His sword wasn’t very long, something time-appropriate for his period even. If anything, it was slightly on the smaller side, a sidearm, so to speak.
It was shorter than even my shortest blade, but god was he using it to devastating effect.
If anything, the fact that it was shorter was one of its strengths.
I was able to conceal the edge of it until he fully thrust it out, diminishing my perception of the blade itself by utilizing his body to block my vision.
He would even adjust his grab on the blade, changing it with each thrust. On one that came for my neck, his fingers were wrapped around the pommel, making me misjudge the distance, and he barely nicked me before I could correct myself.
On another, the base of the blade was between his fingers as he went low, hiding the vision of the blade with his chest and going for my thigh.
There were times where he adjusted his grip completely and went for a backhanded stab.
By all means, it was a beautiful performance of swordsmanship.
If Artoria was the type that used overwhelming strength to overpower her opponent, and Raikou was the type to utilize sheer technique to overcome gaps, then Achilles was the type that used trickery or deception in his blows.
Though, there was no thought in my mind about calling it 'underhanded,' nor would even Artoria—who holds very firmly on honorable combat—say so either.
Making openings, tricking your opponents' perceptions, utilizing advantages, and all of those sorts of things were fair game in combat.
Hell, Artoria fought with an invisible blade much of the time.
That being said, I had to narrowly deflect another stab aiming for my neck, forcing me to step back.
I noticed Achilles’ smirk appear at that moment, and his speed increased to another level for a split second, and he had already stabbed back out again at my heart.
It caught me off guard, and I used my divine sword to meet it.
As the two blades connected, there was an eruption of thunder and lightning at the point of contact.
Achilles slit out of the cloud of dust and lightning that had been kicked up, coughing lightly and waving away the errant debris.
“Hah, looks like I got you." He said cheekily.
I grumbled because he was right. “Fine, that one was yours.”
Sword training is good.
Training my divine authority was the priority, however.
I was so used to just…releasing all my divine power at an enemy that I wasn’t used to using my sword for much more delicate purposes.
A spar where I don’t release large swathes of divine power was genuinely a bit difficult.
I didn’t do it consciously either; it was like a response to my emotional state, a split second of panic, and I lost control for that brief moment.
“Where’d you even get a sword?” I asked him, taking out a bottle of water before taking a drink and then tossing it to him.
“Bought it from a store around here. They had a lot of nice stuff. I was surprised that they had a proper blade from my time, so I couldn’t help myself.” He gave it a look over with a nostalgic smile before drinking from the bottle.
“Does it feel weird using a weapon outside of your class?” I hadn’t considered that until now.
But he was a rider summoned with his spear.
“There’s a slight…off feeling?” He scratched his cheek. “But it’s not like I wasn’t as trained with a sword as I was a spear. Muscle memory, or whatever you want to call it, kicked in, and it’s about the same.” He shrugged.
“You were known for your spear, so you were just as good with your sword?” I asked him.
“All Myrmidons mastered their shield, their spear, and their sword. In that order. If you couldn't hold a shield up with your brothers, you weren’t cut out for it. If you couldn’t throw your spear and take a guy off horseback, we didn’t need you. And if you couldn’t handle a sword, you were useless.” He said that with noticeable pride. “But I admit, I was better with my spear. But I’m still passable with a sword; I am capable of being summoned as a Saber, you know. But it’s not my strongest class.”
“That’s still impressive," I gave the due praise. “Siegfried.”
He gave me a flat look.
I had to.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you around, but what brings you back?” I stabbed my sword into the ground, leaning on it.
“Sis and I just got back from exploring some parts of the world.” He shrugged. “No real reason.”
Well, as long as they’re enjoying themselves.
Atalanta probably likes the journey, and Achilles follows her around.
“It reminds me of the old days, but not just traveling around Greece. I had some points when I was younger when I would wander around, kill some monsters, and save some damsels. You know, before I joined the army and all that. It was carefree.”
“Not having any responsibilities, huh?”
“Exactly.” He nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, I would never trade my men for anything. But being a leader is tiring. I would miss the days of just training with Chiron, skipping out on paying for meals at restaurants, and the occasional village begging for a hero to save them. No marching orders, nor king trying to scream into my ear, and no political bullshit.”
“Plenty of monsters to slay around here?”
“Tons. Sis and I hunted a yeti in some mountains that was messing with a town. We killed some winged serpent thing somewhere else that was pretending to be a god and demanded sacrifices. Oh, and we killed some giant sea monster over on the other side of the world.”
Sounds like they had been having a good time.
“So, did you learn anything?” He looked at me with his cocky grin.
"It seems like you emphasize almost everything on quick thrusts.”
He rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure my stupid nephew could have said that. We had bronze weapons back in the day; they bent, chipped, and snapped much easier than steel and iron. So if you caught someone’s armor wrong, you lost your sword for good, and it’s already your secondary. So you had to be very precise with your attacks.”
Made sense.
“Let me give it a shot.” I pulled my sword out of the ground. “If you don’t mind.”
He spun his sword in his hand before laying it over his shoulder. “Alright, show me what you got.”
My sword wasn’t made for quick thrusts. That isn’t to say that it wasn’t made for thrusts in general. It was…well, a standard longsword. Slightly shorter than a European longsword, but the general principle was the same.
And, obviously, I wasn’t some novice that didn’t know the basics of swordsmanship.
But…eh, I was trying to approach things from that mindset?
That was another thing from my time on Sakaar.
When I was without most of my means, it sort of opened my mind up to some possibilities. It’s easy to get comfortable with what I have. That’s not to say I wasn’t reaching some profound enlightenment on the way of the sword or any nonsense.
Just…a different angle of thought, I suppose.
I have the bad habit of tunnel visioning things. And that could also apply to my own growth and training and learning.
Well, I didn’t think I was going to match him, but what harm was there in just giving it a shot?
I leveled my sword up over my forearm, indicating very clearly what I was going to do.
Without hesitation, I stabbed forward.
He rolled his sword in his fingers before taking it in a reverse grip and swung it up to block, but the moment they connected, he seemed to realize the problem and twisted his wrist.
His sword sort of snaked around mine and turned into a deflection instead of a blunt parry.
Smart.
Truthfully, I was more like Artoria.
My thrusts may not be the fastest, but I put a lot of strength into them.
But just as well, that isn’t to say that they’re slow.
I released my own flurry of thrusts at him. Some slower, some faster, some stronger, some weaker.
He could more or less keep up even if he wasn’t matching me in pure strength.
But he couldn't block them head-on; he had to resort to deflecting them as precisely as possible to avoid damaging his blade too.
The fact that his non-enchanted, historically accurate bronze blade didn’t show even a chip in it was a testament to his skill.
But I did notice one problem on my end.
A small spark danced across my blade, turning into a tiny little snap of lightning that arced across the edge.
I quickly stopped and stabbed my sword into the ground. “This temperamental bastard.”
It’s not like it was alive in a normal sense. I suppose in the same way that other mythical swords have a sort of 'will,' so does mine.
And as one would expect from an authority of storm, it didn’t like being contained.
I’ve never had problems with it in the past because when I used it, it was to release all that power. Even when I was using it on Sakaar—my authority in general—I was releasing the storm within myself.
I was, at this moment, keeping the growing storm contained within the sword itself.
And it did not like that.
A storm was loud; it was destructive, bombastic, and fury incarnate.
From primordial times, the storm was one of man’s greatest fears. The sound of thunder as our ancient ancestors hid in their caves was a herald of utter terror.
And I was trying to get it to behave and stay quiet in its proverbial box.
I know that I’m not unique in having issues like this. I remember that Godou had his own issues with his authorities.
Authorities had their own wills as well.
It wasn’t something I was born with. I controlled it because…because Susanoo let me. He took his loss in grace and didn’t pout or stomp his feet. I think that’s one of the reasons that my authority came to me so naturally.
But I never really used it…’wrongly’ before?
I’m most certainly not using it in the same way as its original owner.
And that was my goal, much to my detriment right now.
I did have a plan; it was just going to take awhile.
If I can do what I did on Sakaar without days of buildup, it will be meaningful. Because that slash of mine was without a doubt one of my strongest attacks to date.
Achilles was patient, and I was grateful. He at least knew what I was doing, so he wasn’t going to call me out on it or get upset that I was wasting his time.
Putting a hand back on my sword, I could just feel it.
The Storm wanted to be released.
Nope.
I forced it back down again, not letting anything leave from within the sword.
I let out a sigh. “What a bastard.”
“Well, not something I’ve ever had problems with.” Achilles put his arms up in a ‘what can you do?’ sort of way. “My dad’s spear had a bit of bloodlust to it that I had to get used to, but that was about it.”
“Well, if it’s going to throw a tantrum, I’m just going to ignore it.” I was starting to get annoyed. “Anyways, want me to enchant that thing so it doesn’t break?”
“If you got the free time, I wouldn’t mind.”
I held my hand out, and he tossed it to me as I took an Enchanting Table out of my ring and set it up on the surface. “Anything special you want? I was just going to add durability.”
“Can you make it so it doesn’t tarnish?"
“Easy.” I waved it off. “How about adding cool flames to it?” I said that jokingly; that earned a snort from him. “More seriously, I’ll stop the edge from dulling easily, make it more durable, and make it retain its luster.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” He smiled.
“No problem, it’s something easy.”
“I’ve been curious about something.” He crossed his arms as he watched me work. “Why exactly do you play with swords? I mean, aren’t you a magus?"
“You know, not many people have actually asked me that question.” I realized this right before I was about to answer. “They just sort of take it at face value.”
“And…?”
“Well, it’s a very deep, emotional, and philosophical reason.”
“I’m starting to regret asking.”
“Honestly, I just like swords. I like having treasures. I want to be able to use my treasures. So here we are.”
"...Fair enough.” He looked like he agreed with me.
It's hard to argue with the logic of ‘I just like it.'
It really isn’t that deep, despite my joke. When I was starting out, I was deciding what I wanted to focus on, and I liked both magic and swords.
Obviously, my repertoire expanded beyond that; I even have some spears, but the general idea stands.
I looked at my Divine Sword again and frowned.
I should head back over to that world and maybe get some advice. The heretic god Odin seemed to be somewhat amicable, or maybe I could squeeze something out of Athena there too.
“Hey, are you guys done yet or what? I want my turn again?” Mordred yelled from over where everyone else was.
I grabbed the sword off the enchanting table and tossed it to Achilles.
He gave it a swing and smiled happily. “All yours, Saber.” Achilles held his hands up as if to surrender to her whims.
“Finally. Ready for round two?” Mordred grinned, walking over, her own sword materializing in her hand.
I glanced at Artoria, who was sitting with the others, and she gave me just a smile.
It was her turn, technically, but she didn’t interject here. I had been going between them all, taking turns, as it were.
Ironically, Mordred was probably the best sparring partner for me in this instance. She fights more like a berserker, but not a mindless type. She knew how to use a sword, but she did things her way and how she liked to do them.
But at the core of it, she was wild and unpredictable. And she also had the strength and speed to back it up.
It made it hard to keep focus, which was…good training.
I pulled my divine sword out of the ground, pointing it at her, and she didn’t waste a word, simply charging at me.
@***@
It was a nice way to decompress.
Some might say that sparring, fighting, or training isn't ‘taking it easy,' but compared to most of my life, this is practically a vacation.
The sheath on my sword was working well; I had it leaning up against the wall to the side, and it wasn’t really making a ruckus.
Though as far as taking it easy went, nothing beat being able to take a nap while laying my head in someone’s lap.
Izzy smiled down at me from above, and she gently ran a hand through my hair.
It really was nice to be back home.
I was going to have a nice family dinner with my family and not have any worries or responsibilities today.
Just as I had that thought, I felt my Kaleidophone buzzing in my storge.
“Fuck off.” I answered it immediately.
“Love you too," Odin answered.
“What do you want? I’m busy," I asked.
"No, you’re not; don’t lie.” Odin snorted.
I let out a long sigh; I knew how he was.
“Do you want me to hang up for you?” Izzy offered.
“Oh hey, it’s the cougar.” Odin’s voice came through.
“I will end you," Izzy hissed.
“Wow, haven't heard that one today.” He hummed.
"...How is Hela?” I realized exactly what he meant by that. “Not giving you any problems, I hope?”
“Is that him? Tell him to take me back right now or I will end him!” I heard a very distinct voice in the background on his end.
“About that," Odin replied.
“Yeah?”
"Yeah," Odin said casually. “I’ve been trying to get her laid, but it needs some work.” Odin let out a long sigh. “Despite being my kid, she has no rizz.”
“Please don’t say that.” I felt my eye twitch.
“That’s how the kids say it these days, right? I’m young; I can keep up with the young’uns.”
“Oh my god.” I let out a groan, and I could hear Hela on the other end groaning too. “I’m starting to sympathize with her now.”
“I’m still going to kick your ass when you come back.” Hela said plainly.
“Good luck with that. How are your powers again?” I responded.
A series of ancient Norse expletives came from the other end. Well, I suppose it’s technically Asgardian expletives that the Norse adopted?
“Why did you call me, Odin?” I finally got down to the heart of it, because he usually doesn’t call without a reason.
“Alright, have something serious. Figured since rizzless over here was with me, we could do it as some father-daughter bonding.”
I ignored it.
Ignoring it.
I wasn’t going to comment.
"And…?"
“Remember how I said I was going to make plans to…retaliate against our little problem.”
“Oh.” I sat up in realization. “Shit, I forgot.”
That’s on me; my mind had been elsewhere.
“It’s fine; we hadn’t set anything in motion yet. But I had a thought.” Odin was making some noise in the background; I didn’t know what he was doing, but he was doing something. “Anyways, I gave it proper thought.”
Despite his casual tone, I knew that he was serious when he needed to be. He was very reliable, despite sometimes wanting to punch him in the face.
If he said he was doing something, I could trust him to do it.
If he gave something proper thought, that meant he treated it with the seriousness that it deserved.
“What thoughts did you have?”
“I realized, why can’t we be the terrorists?”
My immediate reaction was to call him an idiot, but I gave that statement genuine consideration and found myself realizing that I couldn’t actually argue with it.
Obviously, he was being facetious with the way he worded it, but I could pick up what he meant.
“You’re not wrong," I admitted.
It’s not like we’re some comic book heroes that have to wait for the ‘bad guys’ to fly out into the city and start causing a mess.
Hell, we’re not heroes in any sense of the word.
Why exactly do we have to play nice?
“What do you need?” I asked.
“Can I borrow that eye of yours?” He asked.
That’s how I knew he was actually serious and had a real plan. Well, I confirmed it at least, and he wasn’t just playing around, not that I was suspecting him.
He was hesitant around this thing and wouldn’t ask for it if it weren’t for a purpose.
It only took me a moment to calculate his location based on the connection through the Kaleidophone, so I opened a portal and tossed the eye through.
“Thanks.” Odin responded from his side as the portal closed.
“Do you need help?” I asked him.
“It’s fine, it’s not actually very difficult. Rizzless over here can help me. The only difficult part is making sure the…uh…traces can’t be connected back to us.”
Did I even want to know now?
If I had to guess, he was going to blow someone up.
Multiple someone’s probably.
“You know, while you have her there, she can probably help with the Destroyer.” I remembered that he was still working on that or something. He said he could get it up and running, and I trusted him.
“You have my Destroyer!?” I could hear her shriek from the other end.
“And that’s my cue to hang up. See you later, brat.”
“If you’re bored tomorrow, watch the Devil’s Rating Game; I’m going with Venelana, and I gave one of the contestants a huge gun.”
“Sounds fun; I’ll watch if I have time.” He hung up.
Right, now where was I?
Oh yeah.
I laid my head back down in Izzy’s lap.
She welcomed me back into position, seemingly uncaring about the conversation I just had with Odin.
I pulled her shirt up slightly so I could look up it from below.
No Bra.
She gave me a little pinch on the cheek but didn’t rebuke me.
And all is right in the world.
@***@
A/N
Rating Game next, and then we move on to the new world.