Chương 45: Chapter 41- Laid To Rest

"I knew you were a softie…"

"Don't push it, Cleria." Still, Diehauser rubbed the back of her head. [This is only a one-time concession. Never again.]... … |DxD|- Chapter 41- Laid To Rest …... May 12, 1992, Kuoh Town, Japan. Baraquiel was becoming worried. It has been three days since Igor's mother was laid to rest in that tomb. Igor said his goodbyes, but he has changed…negatively.

"Again! I'm not done yet!" The boy charged towards him. His eyes burned with rage-fueled intent. Baraquiel dodged each blow. Igor was violent, more pushing, more bloodthirsty. The cycle had begun. Perhaps when the boy stood over his mother's grave, he swore vengeance instead of recovery.

"Fight back!!!" Baraquiel listened to Igor's request and retaliated. He exploited an opening and drove a fist into the boy's gut. Igor hunched over, a spittle of saliva flying out his mouth. Baraquiel delivered a left hook to his face. Just as the force sent Igor to the side, he grabbed his leg and threw the boy deep into the forest. The sickening crack of snapping trees and branches rang. A short silence ensued, until several energy blasts shot out in a pincer movement.

Baraquiel narrowed his eyes and batted them away with his hands. Right after he batted the last one, Igor rushed in with his fist poised for a straight punch to the nose. Baraquiel grabbed that arm and the scruff of Igor's shirt. He swung the boy overhead for a takedown and slammed him into the earth. He grabbed Igor mid-rebound by the ankle and tossed him away. Igor skidded and tumbled on the grass until he lay there limply.

"Channel your anger properly. Fighting wildly will not help you get stronger. You need tactics. You need a method of attack. You need to fight according to your size and adapt to opponents like me. Use deception. Use distractions. Use anything that will allow you to exploit any weakness." The boy grieved through battle. He mourned through exhaustion. Turning sadness into action was his way, and Baraquiel would help him steer the right way.

"Get up. You still have more in you." … |DxD| …... Igor lay on the ground once again. Was it minutes? Hours? How long did this fight go on? His body ached with wounds both large and small. His clothes were reduced to rags. Scrapes and cuts covered him like stripes. Vitality churned within him. Months of training and conditioning dulled his pain. Rather, what wounded Igor was the pain of loss and failure. The foul taste of grass lingered in his mouth. Each moment he spent slouching was an insult to his mother.

[Damnit!] Igor hammered his fists into the ground. He forced himself to stand up and face Baraquiel. He spat to the side and channelled his energy. No matter what. No matter the means, he would do everything he could to get strong. So he could avenge them. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Raaaaah!" He rushed forward with intent to kill. Using 'Explosive Movement' had become almost instinct. His fist was wreathed in a flame of gold, his vision blurring until he saw that dark trenchcoat. He punched forward, and his fist was caught. Instantly, Igor gathered energy to his sides and exploded it. His body was flung several metres to the side. He flipped midair and skidded across the ground on his feet. His left hand dragged on the ground for grip and balance.

He had his right arm raised, ready to launch a few energy blasts when he noticed his hand hanging limply. His wrist was dislocated.

"Nngh!" Igor grabbed it with his left hand and forcefully reset it. Flesh and fluid squelched. Bones knocked together in his rough handling. Igor gritted his teeth through the pain, determined to get back to fighting as soon as possibl—"Stop." Baraquiel arrived and restrained him. Igor reflexively glared and tried to argue, but was shut down by one look.

"Shuri will take a look at this. In the future, never ever try to reset a broken bone yourself. Do you understand?" Igor looked down and responded quietly.

"Yes, sir…"

"Good." Baraquiel held Igor by the shoulder and the surroundings blurred from the field to the house porch. Their sudden arrival sent the wind chimes ringing a gentle tune.

"Go in and see your aunty. Training for today is over. We'll continue tomorrow." Baraquiel gently ushered Igor in. The boy slowly walked the hallway towards the kitchen. He closed the door and upon facing the sun, Baraquiel sighed to himself. [What a mess I've made.] In that last charge, Igor displayed genuine killing intent. His face was more wrathful than determined. Baraquiel had seen this script play time and time again. Igor was treading towards the path of vengeance. It was becoming his fuel and drive.

Igor was not in the wrong. But his chosen path would close himself off and push everyone away. Lone wolves rarely survived long. [Shuri. I hope you can help.] Perhaps as long as Igor felt home in this family, he will not become as singularly focused.

"Sigh…" … |DxD| …... Bubbling pots and spicy aromas—Igor sat in silence amidst the gentle ministrations of Shuri. She wrapped his hand in bandage wraps from the base of his fingers to his forearms. Aside from 'sit down', she said nothing else. Three days ago, his mother was laid to rest in that tomb, left unmarked for his safety. In a fit of rage, he swore he would kill everyone. Since then, Shuri rarely spoke. Every time she looked at him, there would be confusion and worry. Igor didn't understand. Was he wrong?

"Aunty. What are gods?" Igor asked quietly and suddenly. He knew gods were powerful existences that defied logic. Gods were the reason his clan was attacked, all because they wanted to keep their power intact. He hated gods. He hated every single one of them. Shuri's movements froze. The stool beneath her was like a magnet that kept her down. Igor's question was… dangerous. Gods were forces of nature, divine existences who governed domains of the world. They were exalted and worshipped existences.

It was acceptable for a few to have 'flaws'. But this century revealed just how treacherous they were.

"Gods are the cancers of this world." Shuri began steadily. Experience told her to deflect or redirect. She knew exactly why Igor was asking. Her answer may as well be the final nail on his coffin of resolve. But could she lie? Could she lie when she saw everything that happened with her own eyes?

"Gods are the answer of what happens when corruption becomes immortal. Gods are parasites who view those below them as pawns and insects." Her brows furrowed as anger slipped out of her. These words were out of character for her, but she could never forget the Skirmishes.

Desolate wastelands torn by war, people starving until their bodies could no longer support their heads, their corpses rotting while the soul still breathed—fifty years of war continued under the tacit consent of gods, and only stopped because one of their own was killed.

"I can see it, Igor." Shuri raised her head from his hand. Her amber eyes met sky blue rippling with surprise.

"You want to…" She hesitated.

"... kill the gods." The gods, as callous as they were to mortal life, were exceedingly powerful and terrifying. A battle between gods could ripple across realms and trigger earthquakes and hurricanes. Only those with Longinus Sacred Gears could hope to amass such power. But maybe…maybe, Igor had a chance too. Shuri gently held his hand. A bit of magic hardened the wraps like iron, keeping his wrist straight.

"You are an Ariyan, Igor. And you have the time chamber." Perhaps instead of trying to hold him back out of fear, she should gently guide him. Igor would live much longer than her. It would weigh on her conscience if he died too early because of her.

"If you put your heart and soul into training, you will not fare any less than a Longinus wielder." Her hands crept up his arms.

"So train, Igor. Train very hard. That rage you feel; don't let it control you. Please." Her hands reached up his neck until they cupped his face. Her thumbs traced the soft skin below his eyes.

"Your grandfather loved you. Your teacher Marcei loved you, even if you say he was grumpy." She chuckled to herself.

"Your father loved you, Igor. And your mother…she loved you too." A tear rippled out of his eye. She gently swiped it away with her thumb.

"I love you too, Igor. This family loves you. You are important to us and always will be. Whatever choice you make in the future, even if it is to fight against the entire world, Baraquiel and I will always stand beside you." Igor's energy rippled with turbulence. Shuri pulled him into her hold and let his tears seep into her shoulder. He was quiet, but a great burden was finally easing off his shoulders. Perhaps this time, he can truly grieve and come to accept that while he was the last, he was not alone..

Volume 2- Closure END