Tales of a Lost World 48

Episode 48 Hidden Beneath the Sands of Time

Kunai stares again, the face of Ivy having reappeared on the body before him. He nods, and grabs her outstretched hand. Within seconds, Kunai finds himself standing outside on the stalagmite plain once more.

“Lesson Three,” Azuma says next to him, “is finished.”

Kunai stumbles to one knee, his body exhausted from the continual training. He stretches out his hands to stop himself from falling completely flat on his face. At this moment, he gasps, noticing that Myou has returned to its claw form. He also realizes at once that his Scorpio set has returned.

“Azuma, I—!”

Kunai’s eyes widen, as he spots a bright blue glare out of the corner of his eye diving towards him. He leaps backwards and out of the way from instinct, coming to a smooth landing on the floor several feet behind.

Azuma sheathes his Blue Screamer, a satisfied look on his face. “It would seem that the soul fusion was a success. Your quick reflexes have no doubt returned.”

Kunai flexes his fingers at these words, staring at the palms of his hands. “Soul fusion, huh? So does that mean I’ve regained my powers as a Hermit and Chief Bandit now?”

Azuma stands gravely behind him, with Arai and Yttrius on either side. “Yes, obviously. If you’ll recall, I initially told you from the beginning that Lessons Three and Four consisted of the soul fusion and Myou release processes.

“Naturally, as you completed the lesson, those powers would return to you once your soul processes were all reconnected.”

Kunai stares thoughtfully at Myou equipped on his right arm for a moment. He strokes its smooth surface, eyeing the old, faded seal written on it. “Say, Azuma, about Ivy—”

However, Azuma interrupts Kunai, signaling for silence by raising his hand. “I know what you will ask. And I owe you an explanation of the whole situation. It went flawlessly, but you still must know the truth.”

“The truth?” Kunai asks, raising an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

“The truth is,” Azuma begins, “that the person whom you saw in the Soul Stairway was not who you think it was. It was all an illusion. You saw it, didn’t you? The moment you touched that person’s hand…”

“Y-Yeah,” Kunai mumbles. “I thought I was hallucinating at first, but it seems I really did see it then. I saw a reflection of myself in that person. What is that supposed to mean?”

“The purpose of the entire lesson was to accomplish two things,” Azuma explains. “Soul fusion, and the formation of Myou into a sword. By achieving soul fusion, it became possible to fuse your different soul processes together using another soul as the medium.

“And what better medium,” Azuma continues, “than one that had once been part of you?”

Kunai’s eyes widen in alarm and realization at this revelation. “You mean to say that…”

“That the part of your soul that had once been torn away from you by the First Triplicate long ago is now a part of you once more,” Azuma retorts. “He has grown strong during your time apart, Kunai. He will aide you in getting stronger.

“In addition, I had also to put into consideration the presence of the Paradox Regret inside of Myou,” Azuma continues, “for that creature had been growing continually stronger as time went on, leading to your soul imbalance.

“In order to keep its powers in check, I had to drag it out for you to beat it into submission. The Paradox you struck in the Soul Stairway was none other than Regret.”

Kunai stares tenderly at his claw for several long moments. “So many thoughts are going through my head right now…” he murmurs.

Azuma’s voice abruptly jerks Kunai back into conscious thought. “I now have very little left to teach you. There is but one lesson left, and I am through instructing you for the time being.

“Take this,” Azuma adds, handing Kunai a large leather-bound tome.

Kunai looks at the heavy book awkwardly, weighing it in his hands. “Uh…I don’t mean to be rude, but what the hell is this for?”

“It is your last lesson,” Azuma answers, “the Forbidden Skill Book. It is a volume that was originally meant to be taught to all classes, but the Four forbade it from ever reaching the hands of any of their students.”

“Huh? Why? How come?” Kunai asks.

“Because it was deemed too dangerous,” Azuma explains, “to be used by anyone.”

“Too…dangerous?” Kunai repeats in an awed whisper.

“That is correct. It was originally produced by a group known as the Fatalists, but the skill books they had written and developed were never approved, and buried with time away from living memory.”

“What makes their skills so dangerous to use?” Kunai asks, leafing through the ancient pages of the book. “Were these skills responsible for killing a lot of people or something?”

“In a sense,” Azuma replies, “they were forbidden because it was generally agreed that these skills would inevitably lead to the destruction of the human race. Should they have been used to settle a dispute, the match would quickly have been over.”

“And you’re going to teach this skill book to me?” Kunai asks. “Even knowing the dangers of what is written in this book right here?”

“It is sometimes necessary,” Azuma replies, “to eliminate danger with an even greater danger.”

“I see.” Kunai closes the book, holding it by his side.

“You may leave and roam about of your free will until noon,” Azuma finishes. “Please study that skill book. Your cumulative lesson will begin later.” He waves his hand dismissively, and strides away into the gloom.

“Hm, that Azuma,” Arai mutters, “always so serious. He’ll never join us for a good ruckus party upstairs in Asgard no matter how many times I ask him.”

“Erm…yeah…” Kunai mumbles in reply.

“Well,” Arai says cheerfully, clapping his hands, “shall we go and celebrate the success of Kunai’s training? Only one lesson left to go!”

“I don’t think so,” Kunai replies, “you guys can go ahead and celebrate, but I want some time to myself, if you guys don’t mind.”

“Huh? Well, that’s okay, I suppose,” Arai mutters back, blinking perplexedly. “Only more cookies for me, I guess! Come on, Yttrius!”

Kunai’s lips twitch a little, as he suppresses a smile from tearing across his face. Finally, he shakes his head, walking away into the darkness.

Kunai comes to a stop at last at the edge of a tall hill overlooking the realm of Asgard. He stares forward into the gloomy world ahead, dimmed by the failed light of a cloudy morning. A few weak rays of sunshine slide through the cracks in the clouds, but not enough to warm the region.

With a sigh, Kunai plops onto the grassy hill underneath, planting his hands into the fresh, clean earth. He stares longingly at the landscape, admiring it from above. “I am totally wiped out from all that training.”

Kunai slides backwards, resting his head on his arms as he lays back and stares up at the sky. His hand idly wraps around a dandelion, plucking it from its roots in the ground.

“In order to get stronger, I obtained power…” Kunai mumbles sleepily.

He closes his eyes, comforted by the soft bed of lush green grass. The darkness underneath his eyelids soon envelops him, and he drifts off into the realm between consciousness and unconsciousness.

‘Kunai.’

“Huh?!” Kunai jerks back away frightfully, coming to a sitting position. He places his hand on his pounding heart, staring around at the empty clearing. As the silence continues to drown over him, Kunai shakes himself, and lays back down, relaxing.

‘You can hear me, can’t you?’

Kunai merely opens his eyes this time, staring defiantly into the motionless sky. “Yeah. I can hear you. What do you want from me?”

‘No. You tell me what you want. I am your benefactor after all.’

Kunai narrows his eyes, sliding forward uneasily. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Down below, on the stalagmite plain of Idavoll, Azuma, Yttrius, and Arai have gathered together once again on the field. They converse with each other in low voices, looking up and down the field every once in a while.

“It’s already past noon,” Yttrius murmurs, “where’s Kunai?”

“He’s probably just running a little late,” Arai says. “More likely, I bet he fell asleep or something. You can’t blame him either, considering how hard he’s been working these last couple days.”

“Ah! There he is!” Yttrius cries, pointing his finger at a distant figure just ahead.

Kunai comes hurtling up, breathing heavily. He clutches the Forbidden Skill Book tightly under his arm. “S-Sorry,” he gasps, “I was running a little late.”

“Forgivable,” Azuma mutters in reply. “However, now that you are here, we must proceed with your training at once. Have you studied the skill book at all?”

“Yeah, a little,” Kunai replies. “From what I could understand, it seems like this skill book deals only with the manipulation of mana.”

“That is correct,” Azuma retorts. “The skill book was designed with mana manipulation in mind. While it is not a skill book of dangerously powerful attacks, these skills, if given to a formidable enemy, will be more than enough to make him unstoppable.”

“I gathered that from the reading,” Kunai murmurs. “Some of these skills sound impossibly complicated, and equally dangerous.”

Azuma draws his Blue Screamer, staring intently at Kunai. “With your agreement, I will now begin teaching you the contents of the Forbidden Skill Book. Little time remains until the end of our third day, but during that time I will teach you all the rest I know. However, before I may teach you what lies within the pages of the lengthy tome you carry, I will only do so under one condition.”

“And that is?” Kunai asks, after several brief seconds of sustained silence.

“You swear upon your life to never repeat what I am about to teach you to anybody else, and to only use these skills for situations in which they are absolutely necessary.”

“I swear,” Kunai replies.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the others, a large, frozen icicle lies hidden behind the rough surface of one of the stalagmites scattered throughout the plain.

As Azuma and Kunai continue to speak in the distance, the icicle begins to crack straight down the middle. The very apex of the block of ice shatters, revealing a mat of tangled blue hair, its complementary face hidden behind a mask of a ghostly white skull.

As the block of ice falls apart completely, the thin person inside steps purposely out, its breathing ragged and harsh in the cold air of the Underworld. It begins walking away in the direction of the Purgatorial Chamber, unseen by any other eyes.

While this person walks, it reaches into the pocket of its fluttering black robe, its only garment. From inside the pocket it draws out a cell phone in its gnarled hand.

“This is Ice,” it whispers into it in a deep, chilling voice.

Upon entering the Purgatorial Chamber, two guards that had been keeping watch suddenly notice this new arrival. They cry out loud in surprise. “Hey! Where are you going?!”

The blue-haired person turns, not at all deterred by the presence of guards. In continues to listen to the person at the other end nonchalantly.

As the guards rush out to meet this new person, they stop in amazement. “A l-live soul?!” they shout.

“How inconvenient.”

Without so much as a movement from either side, the two guards drop dead instantaneously. Ignoring the two dead bodies, the person named Ice continues to speak into its cell phone. “The Third Phoneme is not here. It would seem it is in the Rift World then.”

Next Time: Episode 49 Lightning Strikes…Again!

Arai: It’s a rematch! Who will win this time, Kunai, or me?

Episode 49 Lightning Strikes…Again! coming soon!

6 thoughts on “Tales of a Lost World 48”

  1. I’m gonna make a name called “What”

    So when people ask what my username is, I’ll say
    SilverFx: “What is your username?”

    EvilStranger:”Yup”

    SilverFx: “What?”

    EvilStranger: “Yeah”

    SilverFx: “Huh?”

    EvilStranger: “What is my username”

    SilverFx: “What are you talking about?”

    EvilStranger: “My username”

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