Azimuth: The Elden Throne (New Version)

Chapter 408 His Vision

Chapter 408 His Vision

??.

.

.

---

/Punch!.../

"..."

Throughout all the possible scenarios he envisioned, Testros did not imagine this possibility.

Maybe it was because he was on the verge of death, but in this split second, he felt the world slow down to a crawl, and so did his body.

His mind was trapped within his body, unable to move but more than able to think as he saw the large hand approach him, inch by inch, within this still world.

In short, he was screwed...

Is this the moment his life would pass by his eyes? It is unfortunate, but Testros saw nothing of the like yet.

If he could move as fast as he could think, he would've already been next to his protectors or, better yet, back on the wall. At least that way, he would avoid punishment for leaving his post and disrupting their fight.

Maybe they all knew he was there, watching from afar, but did not interject for many reasons... Maybe they just couldn't, as leaving an opening for the Demon was too risky, even if at the cost of a soldier's life.

Yet, the Demon still moved, risking its life to reach him.

Was it to bring down someone with him? To have a final laugh before its assailants? Likely not.

Then, it must've calculated that approaching Testros was the most beneficial action it could take.

Then what could it be? It's not like it can flee, they would catch up to it quickly... And above all, Qrubin's spell was already in effect... For whatever it could do...

This meant there was only one possibility left... Amidst the sea of unlikely scenarios...

It was going to use him for something, maybe devour him for meager recovery, perhaps even for some leverage, like a kidnaper situation.

Reaching this conclusion made Testros deeply embarrassed to show this side of him to all he idolized... It wasn't something he wanted to go through.

No... Instead, he wanted to show his very best, his potential, and his determination to improve.

"...?"

His attention reverted to his body, realizing his hands and stance were already in place.

To the Demon's charge, Testros reacted by instinct, moving so fast his mind didn't even process it. And this strange situation made him think...

Maybe... If he could move faster then his mind could think... Then, he could evade the Demon's strike, even if once.

But how can one move faster than one can think?

Could the body possess some degree of autonomy?

Is his mind limiting his body somehow? Why would it do so? How did it do so?

The mind held many secrets, Testros knew of the Gates within the Human body, and he witnessed Dale's growth as he attained Aura.

He was proud, enthusiastic, and, more all, fulfilled that at the end of his life, he had achieved this much and put his faith in someone with such potential...

But for all the good emotions that there were... He felt... Something else...

Yes... Envy.

He was envious of the young man. Not that he should, everything Dale did was of his own volition.

He still remembered when he was convinced to follow him on an adventure; had he been in the boy's shoes, would he have done the same? Disbraving the darkness in search of long-lost answers and treasures?

Would he have dived into the Miasma to find an ancient relic? What about going on an expedition to the dark forest?

Together with everything he went through to gather the strength to be there...

The answer was simple, he couldn't. That was why his envy disgusted him.

Dale's achievements are a result of his determination to pursue things and to risk his life for his goals.

His presence down here, on the battlefield, was also a form of pursuit. Fueled by his repressed desires to cling to opportunities as well.

Deep down, Testros also willed for a change, an adventure.

He practiced for too long, his days to explore are long behind him...

But what he wanted the most, maybe... Was for a chance to have those days back.

He was envious, why did the wall have to fall during his time?

Why did he cling to his ideals? Why train so much? Throw away his past for the sake of a dead, uncertain future?

His hands were rough, distorted from a million swings...

His mind was thorn, pulled between time, a part of it in the past, another in the future, and the rest in the past.

His recent development has all been about pulling them together... So he can focus on one of the three and figure out what to do with his life.

He didn't want to look at the past... But neither does he wish to look at the future. He wanted to live in the present and have the fun he was never allowed to experience.

Humans can be selfish... Once in 100 years, right?

Testros wanted to... Live like Dale a little.

And when Testros ideals and realizations condensed, he saw a path behind the Demon.

The path led to the Commander of the Corps, a clear road, so clear it seemed to shine under the night sky.

There was no moon or stars to shed light upon it, all covered by the smoke and clouds of war...

He wanted to walk that path, but something was in his way.

/... ding.../

In the silence of the still world, Testros heard the extremely faint noise of a bell chime.

"It doesn't matter." A voice echoed in his mind soon after

Who said that? Testros wondered, but his body began to move when he thought about it... Defying what he previously thought possible.

But instead of happiness, he felt fear and coldness...

Stop it! He ordered. Such a direct approach will get me killed; I need to...

"We need to face it directly." The voice echoed once more

Testros understood why, for the voice was no one else's but his own, fragments of his chaotic mind, its shattered pieces gathering together, condensing into a single point

If I move back... I'll...

"We'll die."

If I tried to evade it, the...

"We'll die as well."

If I...

"We'll die too."

All paths led to death, the only one left was the path illuminated by the mystical light.

How strange, how is it that all paths led to his death, but the most direct of them all didn't?

How was it going to save him?

"..."

Testros hesitated; he didn't know what to do here, and his body was about to finish its first step.

When it did, his face would connect with the Demon's fist, and every chance to evade he had before would go through the window.

What to do...

"What else? Your hand's already in place." The voice said, somewhat impatient

Testros realized something again; yes, his body was already in position; what else could he do if not finish what it started?

But really? Instead of evading, you want to strike down at the approaching Demon? How ridiculous, there are better ways to commit suicide.

"Is that what youtrullythink?"

"..."

/Step.../

Testros stepped down, and to his surprise, he was a little faster than he expected, as there was a little space between his nose and the Demon's hand.

A little space... But infinitely less time.

Testros brainstormed again, if he could only strike from here, what was he meant to do?

Forward slash?

"Splat!" The voice said ironically as if to indicate he would die violently

... Angled slash?

"Nope."

A thrust?

"Its arm is longer than your sword will ever be."

"..."

Testros thought of all the movements he knew, but none would work; he was in a bind.

He needed...

"... Something new." The voice said as if the answer was obvious

But how could he make use of something he never did before in this moment of crisis? Couldn't it have come up with a better idea?!

"Do you have a better one?"

"..."

He did not.

Indeed... Attacking was the only solution... The only one he had.

His body was right, it moved first, long before his mind ever realized the inevitability of this action.

So he began to think... And well... It's not like there wasn't a solution...

"So what are you doing?" The voice asked, upset

Thinking... Testros was thinking... Visualizing, understanding, recapturing that moment so he...

"You don't have the time for that anymore." The voice said in disappointment as the Demon's fist collided with Testros' head

/Jolt!/

It was just a moment, but massive momentum was transferred across his skull and body as he felt a strange force permeate his flesh.

Disintegration was the word he thought about as he experienced this process.

He felt no pain... Maybe because he didn't even have the time to feel it.

But then... How was he even thinking?

Testros was in despair and confusion, his body and mind trying their best to devise a solution...

"... Are you giving up? It's not that bad of a place to fall as a soldier on the battlefield... Isn't it what you want?"

... Whathewanted?It was almost as if they weren't thinking the same thing...

"..."

Right... Testros body may have given up, but his mind didn't... Part of it didn't... And something else he couldn't quite put his hands on it.

His... Soul?

Wait, did his body really give up?

No! Nothing within his fleshly body had given up. Not even himself.

So, who was he trying to lie to?

"Have you figured it out?" The voice asked, this time a bit hopeful

"... No... Not yet..."

"That's fine, we can understand the rest later."

He kept arguing with himself about the solution, but the answer remained the same all along.

He just had to move faster than his mind could react... No, it wasn't that either, that was a mere misconception.

His mind was limiting his body, yes, but this limitation originated from its own chains.

His mind... Was being limited by no other than himself.

What were those chains?... He would have to figure them one. Remove them, one by one.

And when they were all gone when they were all broken... Then his body would move, just like it did when he forgot they existed.

/Shine.../

Amidst his chaotic thoughts, Testros gathered his focus and looked beyond the Demon.

It mattered little now, what he wished to see was the path behind it... And he would reach it.

/... si... est.../

Weak, faint words echoed in his mind, but he paid them no heed, likely echoes of his shattered mind.

/Shua!/

Testros's forehead gleamed, and his world began to distort.

His body moved, but he didn't see it as his gaze was locked elsewhere.

It didn't need his control to do so; it was a movement that had already been going on for decades.

A simple cut, a straightforward slash. An essential move he was taught long before he even held a proper sword.

Right, it was the first move he ever learned, and he remembers it now. In his childhood days, he would sneak around to watch the soldiers train.

Amidst those happy memories, his body moved, a faint smile on his face.

/SLASH!/

/PUNCH!/

A punch and a slash resounded, one muffling the other.

...

.

.

.

Notes