Becoming Legend

Chapter 179: Spar with the Ghost

To Ned's left side were people walking to and fro, too far for them to hear the conversation between him and the toothed-mask guy. 

Ned didn't answer. Instead, his eyes fell on a symbol over the man's left chest. A tiny symbol, almost hidden from close observers, but clear enough when one's eye meticulously observe the pattern. Three drops of blood in a swirling motion, in the center of the swirling blood, was an eye; blank, hollow.

"Too young to be Ghostbloods," Quintin had said to Ned over their first meeting, for some reason, after seeing the blood symbol, Quintin's voice echoed inside of Ned. He frowned,

could be? 

"Ghostbloods," Ned whispered. 

The man in toothed-mask twitched. His hands, with knives, in-between knuckles, flinched, and it seemed that the red eyes over his mask glared at Ned with the pure intent of ire. 

"How'd you know about Ghostbloods?" He said.

Ned said, "Does it matter?"

He said, "Of course," and added, "those who knew about the name of Ghostbloods represents them, or those who were represented. Obviously, they're dead. But, you?

"Who do you work for?"

"I work for no one," Ned said. Voice muffled under the Kurashinpi. For a moment, Ned was relieved that the mask repaired itself using his mana. But now, the mask was relentlessly sucking him. Not good. If he fought the man in front of him, he needed an extra amount of mana. Ned felt that the man if he wanted to kill Ned, he could. Even with Overclock, he might only scratch the toothed-mask man. 

"Then, why did you help the kid?" Toothed-mask man said, rain sprinkled over his shoulder. His pale blue coat turned grey mixed with the yellow light coming from them, a light from the building. It flickered until the light dimmed off and died, and the man blurred along with the rain. He then vanished. Like the skill Ned had once used when he was in training inside the Island of Abada, the toothed-man vanished. 

But not completely. Over the puddle of water, on the stony, and cold, and wet ground of the alley, footsteps came into view. Going to Ned's right, flanking him against the wall to his left. Ned pulled the broken Butterfly closer to his chest. The sword lacks length, and strength to fight. It was good for defense, at the moment. 

The footsteps marked with boots, stopped, then dashed toward Ned. Ned couldn't see where the toothed-man would attack, but he intentionally made an opening on his right side, (by widely lifting his elbow, above shoulder). Ned assumed that the toothed-mask man would attack there. 

Which he did.

Ned slashed the broken Butterfly after he saw a quick reflection under the tiny rain. The knife lurched away from its target and landed far to Ned's right. The knife clicked against the wall. 

The alley was six maybe seven meters wide, narrow if two people fought with knives, and swords.

"I asked you," he said, he was across Ned, maybe two to three feet. Then the voice appeared from behind. "Why did you helped the kid?"

He's fast.

Ned spun around, facing the vanished man, only to be disappointed as the voice rang behind him again. He's playing him.

"The kid needs help," Ned said, smirking. "Do I need the reason to do so?"

"Ah," the man said, this time to Ned's left. "Chivalry ain't dead." Although muffled, his voice has a tone of calmness. 

Ned was waiting for this moment. The man was against the wall, Ned could push a little farther, and he could pin him instead. 

Over his red display, Ned followed the numbers where the man would soon appear. He did so. Ned flung himself forward to his right, blocking the man as he left his spot. Raindrops obscured the image of the man as they were dropping over his shoulder. He was squat; short and stocky, and fast. The image of his body was swirling of light, bent light as Ned could see the walls inside his body.

Ned raised his hand, conjuring Fireball. He threw it, point-blank, at the invisible man. Not the best way to attack a fast-moving enemy, but sure was good for preparing a follow-up attack. 

The man's invisibility vanished, lack of mana, or time duration perhaps, but sure his visible now. Surprised by the sudden Fireball, the toothed-mask man threw himself backward. Hitting the wall with his back. The Fireball made a deep cavity, a little above to the man's right, and the fumes, and smoke, and sparkles vanished under the tiny drizzles of rain. 

"Not bad," he said under his steamy breath. He then dashed forward and was thrown back at the wall as Ned's straight hit him under his jaw. He staggered, surprised that an enemy, smaller than his, packed a punch that made him wobbled against the wall.

"That's what you get for underestimating an opponent," Ned said. Steam oozed out his body and evaporated before the man noticed it, the rain helped as well, concealing the frizzles of steam. He didn't need to hide Overclock but sure was helpful for a surprise attack. Ned canceled Overclock in a split second, it just gave him a boost to land the punch. He knew he couldn't fight one of the members of the Ghostbloods, not at this current self. So, a little boost does help. And luckily, he was filled with meat, making his energy a hundred percent and dropped a tiny amount of 70% after he used Overclock. 

"You asked for it," he cried, his mask seemed to be out of place, but sure his voice was enraged. He pulled the knives off his belt and threw them to Ned.

Eight knives were successfully parried by the broken Butterfly. Ned then swung the sword behind him, making a huge half arc, feeling that the enemy would surprise him from behind. 

He sure did, too predictable, yet too fast. He sure relies on his speed. The man ducked instead of stabbing Ned from behind, he then swung his feet to sweep Ned off the ground. 

A failed attempt. 

Ned jumped and was thrown back at the wall, as the man kicked his chest in a very awkward position. His leg was like that of a scorpion's tail, his hands stretched forward the ground, balancing his body while in a ducking position. 

Now that, I didn't expect. Ned thought, rubbing his chest under his black tunic and the cloak from the pirates, which he yet to name, kept him warm. 

The man stood, and stretched, and dashed forward, leaving a trail of gust and wind. The wind then changed direction as it flew toward Ned like a spear being thrown. A Wind Mage he was.

Ned's combat display blinked red as the Wind spear getting closer along with its conjurer. No time to dodge, no time to conjure a spell, no time to waste. With a command, Ned forced the adrenaline to pump and travel his veins. Making him steam, and blurred on his spot. 

The man stretched his feet forward, stopping as he saw Ned in an obscured image, the Wind spear hit nothing but a wall. Just like the missed Fireball, the Wind spear bore a two-finger wide hole. 

Ned appeared behind the man, pale blue clothing drenched over the rain. The man flipped before Ned could slash him with the Butterfly. 

The man stopped midway, spun around, and dashed toward his adversary. No throwing knives this time, just one, heavy, and precise punch aimed at the very face of Ned's mask.

Just like the other, Ned dashed with steam warming his body. Ned ready the broken Butterfly to pierce the gut of the man. 

The two met in the middle of the alley, surrounded with soils, and spoils, and shadow, and rain, and perseverance, and a shout, "Oy!" The voice rang in-between the corner of the alley. "Halt!" The voice stretched too long, Ned and the masked man had the time to stop their attack, looked at where the voice came from, and back to met each other's eyes under their mask. Both gathering details. 

The man pulled his hand, jumped backward, and reached for the dents of the buildings surrounding them, and climbed up in a very agile, and nimble way. 

Ned unsummoned the Butterfly back to his pocket dimension. To his right, metal armor clanged as it was getting closer to Ned. But Ned doesn't have the audacity to throw a glare at the incoming man. 

He looked up and caught a faint glitter of light coming toward him. He caught the light between his index and middle finger. It was a card with the Ghostbloods symbol on it. At the bottom of the symbol were words: "I seek your life, soon. - Thirteen."

"I almost got him," Ned said, pocketing the card, the size of his three fingers stacked together, inside his back pocket, and grinned.  His display turned blue, and shut-off.

[As he did the same.]

[He was good, Ned.]

[He could make a good sparring partner.]

ICE's voice rang as if mocking his adversary. That level of skill is more than just sparring partner, Ned thought. He turned to look at the incoming man: a city guard perhaps lower, as it was clad in armor and nothing more specific aside from the spear he held awkwardly over his shoulder. More like a henchman's henchman. 

Ned raised his hands as if surrendering. Which made the man frowned with thick eyebrows. "You," he said, "Who are you, and what are you doing here fighting?" 

"I am N", Ned said, voice obscured by the black mask. "No, I am nobody." He said instead, almost forgetting he was wearing a mask. 

The guard said "A nobody with a mask is not a nobody. You're coming with me." He spoke a perfect accent, a city boy. Perhaps knew all the Houses, and Ned couldn't risk being caught, with Sskat as his House, and Tarragon as his backer. 

"Sure, boy," he said, then trailed off by jumping backward. 

The city guard startled and pointed the spear toward Ned, and frowned, as he saw Ned climbing the building just like the Ghostblood man did.

Midway the climbing, Ned heard the city guard, sighing, "That was close."