Garden Of The Abyss

"Andraste," he muttered through trembling lips.

The ruthless man smiled as he swiped his blood-soaked hand against the air, cleansing it of the goblin's meaty chunks, "I guess my reputation precedes me, as always!"

All at once, he remembered in full the information connected to such a dreadful name.

He was in the tournament...Iris told me about him, and Rengoku...he's one of the "Victorious Seven"--an elite group even more revered in Mastorn than the Argonauts...but why is he here? Why is he standing in front of me right now?! He thought.

It wasn't just the fact that his body was on the brink of shutting down from the overwhelming pain and exhaustion, but he truly felt an aura like none other, emanating from the smiling man with such intensity that he had to coax the air from his lungs.

"...What do you want?" He spat out his words as his own blood stuck between his lips.

Andraste continued to hold his smile as he looked to the side, "Ren Nakamura? I remember hearing that name brought up before. The otherworlder that Rouge, the "Imp of Mastorn" himself failed to hunt. It took me a while to remember, but I did."

He felt his blood run cold as the man spoke of his identity as a foreigner to the world of Gaia, immediately wanting to retreat into a shell, but he had no choice but to hold his ground.

"W-what about it?...You're not an Argonaut, so you--!"

"You're right, I'm not," Andraste cut him off, "...but, that doesn't mean I don't enjoy slaughtering each and every one of them, nonetheless. In such a fragile world, what else is there to do but to break things? Rouge was a weakling, but at least he understood the real pleasures in life; cutting, impaling, burning, and violating the flesh of another--it's a pleasure exclusive to the strong! That's why I came to Purgatory...as a "revered" member of the Victorious Seven, I'm chained to the perfect, holier-than-thou image of a knight...disgusting, disgusting, disgusting! What is the point of having strength if one does not use it to bend the flesh of another?!"

As the youthful knight reveled in his depraved cravings, swiping his hands through the air, his magical pressure naturally magnified to the point that the air became thin enough to feel as if they were standing atop the peak of a mountain.

He's completely crazy'¦! He realized.

Once he realized the type of man he was dealing with, any hope of peacefully resolving their meeting was thrown out of the window.

After seeming to calm down, Andraste was gazing up at the absent stars with his mouth gaping before slowly lowering his gaze back down to the half-dead otherworlder with his expression settling to a dreadful intensity.

"...What I mean to say is: I'm going to break you, Ren Nakamura. Individually, I'll fracture, twist, then shatter your bones. I'll flay your body. I'll gouge your eyes, remove your tongue, and turn you into a shell that was once a man. All because you're weaker than me; born to be my plaything."

As he gulped his fears down his throat in an attempt to quell the shaking in his knees, he chose to bide for time.

I need to recover whatever amount of stamina I can, if I'm going to have to fight this freak...he thought.

"You were looking for me'¦? How did you find me?" He asked.

Andraste scoffed, "Why do you think the Stormfallen were after you? I had them track down a pesky little otherworlder, under my command."

"...What? That doesn't make any sense...why would the Stormfallen be under your order?"

Turning to his side, Andraste lightly kicked the side of the headless champion's limp body before placing his boot atop its back with a small laugh.

"You thought this weakling was the champion of the Stormfallen?"

"What?..."

Andraste sighed, allowing his smile to fade in an instant, "He was, until I came along. After I put him in his place, I made those green little runts my hounds, but it wasn't just you I had them track down. Oh, I found lots of other playthings on this floor. I was careful not to kill too many; I wanted to savor my time here, after all."

After a moment of allowing his words to sink into the young man's mind, Andraste stretched his arms out with a wide smile.

"That's right! I am the Stormfallen champion, Ren! Judging by the fact you're combating with my wretched hounds, and your familiarity with the Stormfallen...I take it you became the Velren champion! Hah! This really is a fateful meeting, isn't it? Once again, the gods continue to guide me to the slaughter," Andraste proclaimed, "as such, we must clash--right here, right now! Come, trembling champion!"

--Even if the enemy he faced possessed such abundant, menacing aura, a wicked personality, and a title bestowed upon only the strongest of his kingdom, none of it mattered when he was tested by such words.

"Trembling?...That's right, I am trembling. I just can't help but be thrilled to get my hands on an evil piece of shit Argonaut, former or not! You're the reason I've felt all of this. And to top it all off, you're a sick bastard--just like him," he forced a smile across his bloodied lips.

Andraste only smiled at the spilled words, gesturing for him to approach, "Indulge me."

After gathering enough breath into his lungs, he accepted the challenge, though he stood still for a moment to find his avenue of approach.

There wasn't much to decipher of his opponent; Andraste stood without any semblance of a guard raised, not even properly facing him as he stood facing slightly away from him.

I have to go for the kill--right away. If I hesitate, it's over, he thought.please visit

He moved just slightly to test the status of his arms; they could move. It was a relieving factor, allowing him to grip the handle of his blade tightly with a trembling conviction.

Good. I can do this, he thought.

In a split-second, he shifted from his slouched, exhausted stance into a full-sprint, bolting towards the still knight.

Just as he raised his sword to go for a strike, he opted for a complete fake-out, instead, stepping through the shadows to reappear behind Andraste.

As he manifested behind the man, already halfway through the motion of a swing, he warped into the shadows once more to further throw the senses of his opponent off. It was only for a fraction of a moment, but that time spent behind Andraste had coaxed the knight to begin shifting his gaze back.

I've got you! He thought.

After his second consecutive step through the shadows, he reappeared in front of Andraste, who was turning to look back where he was a split-second ago.

There was nothing stopping the path of his blade as the edge aimed itself at the exposed, undefended side of the depraved knight.

"Predictable."

--It was a single word that met his ears during the climax of his attack, hesitating for just a moment as all of his senses went haywire at a foreign sensation.

Buried against his abdomen, a force pressed so fervently against his body that it felt as if it was caressing his organs with a harsh touch.

Even in that minuscule moment, he could hear the cracking of his ribs, resounding inside of his ears as he felt the prominent bones being fractured from within.

Before he knew it, he was flying back uncontrollably from the force of the unseen counter, spitting out a mixture of saliva and blood.

Landing harshly against the mud, rolling through it before coming to a still as he heaved; attempting to regain the breath that his trembling lungs refused to accept, he laid there in complete agony.

"Well, it wasn't a half-bad attempt attack. Mm...I'll give you a six-out-of-ten, for that one," Andraste said casually as he marched over.

He could hardly discern the words spoken as his ears rang, slowly picking himself up as he found himself on his hands and knees, vomiting up an abundance of blood as he watched his hands tremble in the mud.

This is bad. Really bad. I'm bleeding internally. Was that just a single punch? He thought.

Attempting to move any further sent a sharp pain through every inch of his body as he keeled over, falling face first in the mud again.

Oh, that's why I can't breathe. He broke my ribs, one must've pierced my lungs, he thought.

"Look at me while I'm talking to you."

Before he could even process the words spoken from the man looming over him, he received a harsh kick to the side, sending him rolling across the muddy trail again.

Laying there, powerless and devoid of strength in his body, he raised only one hand; it trembled, but reached for something.

"...A...ah'¦" He gasped out.

He tried to speak, but only breathless utterances mustered out as his lungs refused to work with him.

"What was that? Trying to speak? Maybe I should start with your tongue, after all," Andraste smiled wickedly.

The depraved knight placed his boot atop the young man's back, moving one hand to the leftmost sword sheathed on his back.

Slow and steady. Slowly, gather the breath...and say it, he told himself.

"A...ah...a'¦"

Andraste looked down with eyes that held nothing but malice, slowly unsheathing his blade as he savored the moment.

"After I finish removing your tongue, I will flay your body.. After that, as you bathe in overwhelming, visceral pain, I will allow you to spectate as I slaughter each and every inhabitant of that village."

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