Chapter 35: Pegasus, Reborn

The young man stands with a smirk on his face, as he directs the strange contraption towards the utterly speechless archangel. Meanwhile, his opposition gasps in shock and disbelief slowly raising his finger towards the young man:

“Y… You’re…”

“Go on. I’m waiting.” The young man lets out another light smirk as he rests the metal tube on his shoulder once more.

“No… It can’t be…”

“Face it. You’ve been duped. For eight whole years, as a matter of fact.” Still wearing a confident smile, the young man answers. “I do have Otsuya to thank, however, for being able to hide ‘me’ for so long.”

“Lord Oda… You’re… alive…” Michael could only utter those few words. However, it doesn’t seem like he could say any more, since the young man in front of me immediately raises his other hand to interrupt:

“And I’m stopping you right there. ‘I’ told you before, remember? Lord Oda Petoro is dead. Try guessing again… Bedivere.”

“No, it can’t be…” As the final words leave the young man’s mouth, the archangel repeats his last phrase, seemingly agitated more than ever before, as his face grows pale as ice, and whatever warmth left in his body dissipates like a candle being blown out by a strong wind. His hands gripped tightly with anger as the angel mumbles:

“Byleth…”

“Wrong again, my dear Peter,” the young man smiles once more. “The Demon Byleth has also disappeared from this world. I’ll let you have a third and final guess.”

“What do you mean?” His words not only shocks Michael but even me as well. I can’t believe it. I’ve fought him. I know how strong he is. And you’re telling me that Demon just… went up and died like that? Or… is he dead at all? No, it can’t be Katsu controlling that body. Someone like him could never exude this kind of confidence. Petoro is dead. And Byleth, according to the one in front of me, is dead as well. But, if it’s none of the three of them, then… who exactly is the person standing here?

“Three…” The young man starts to raise his fingers and count, seemingly losing more of his amusement with every second that passes.

“Two…” As if not noticing the angel’s continually worsening expression, the individual continues to lower his fingers, one by one.

“One…”

“Time’s up.” As the final finger lowers, the young man makes his move. Raising the strange metal tube in his hand forward, his index finger squeezes on something that looks like a latch attached near the wooden base. A large booming sound forms in a blink of an eye, akin to the sound I heard earlier from the angels, and, faster than I could keep up with, on Michael’s shoulder is already a round hole, from which one could even see the ground. Blood spurts from the hole like a flood, and the angel lets out an agonizing scream of pain, desperately holding onto his shoulder in hope of stopping the bleeding. Meanwhile, the young man lets out a satisfying smile, and, to my surprise, turns towards me to explain:

“You haven’t seen one before, right? This is a gun. A musket, to be exact. But essentially, it's a kind of projectile weapon that normally fires lead pieces called bullets towards the opponent by igniting a powder. Mine works a bit different, though, because there’s no bullet. Instead, what I fire is compressed wind made from my magical energy. Especially effective in drilling through enemies, and unlike regular muskets, I can freely change the output to whatever size I want.”

“Like this, for instance.” His explanation finishes at the same time as the other angels continue their charge towards us, all with blood in their eyes for him having hurt their leader. However, still carrying that confident, almost arrogant, smile, the young man raises his gun towards the mob of angels, and, with one hand behind his back, pulls the trigger once more.

Another explosion of wind bursts out. However, it’s not just a hole piercing through the shoulder of an angel. This time, it’s a giant storm that blasts away everyone in its radius, sending all of the remaining angels flying away. Some have their backs and faces ground up due to sliding on the ground, with their blood dying the grass in a long stroke of red. Others are flung into the sky and crash down towards the nearby building, causing more clouds of dust to form. However, even if it looks like a lot of damage, none of the angels are incapacitated for good. The ones on the ground stand up once more, despite their robes already turning into crimson rags, while the ones flung away returns to the battle with battered wings.

“Well, well. Looks like you small fries don’t know when to quit.” Standing in front of the scene, however, the young man does not have a shred of panic on his face. Instead, snickering at the angels out for blood, he raises his musket towards the sky and pulls the trigger.

A giant storm sweeps through the area, blowing away all of the angels once more. Even I have to dig my feet onto the ground and cover my face with my elbows to reduce the damage from the wind as much as possible. As the dust settles, however, the young man is already gone, while the angels, even though all of them are in tatters, none have any serious injuries from that attack. But none of us have another moment to think, for, high up in the sky, akin to Michael’s moment of descent, the young man appears yet again in our sight.

With a grin on his face and another musket in his remaining hand, the young man starts to move. And with each of his movements, he continues to make me doubt my own eyes. The young man jumps on the air as if it’s solid ground, and with each jump, his body moves in a way that can only be described as art, as he brings about a beautiful acrobatic show while the muskets in his hands continue to fire another round of compressed wind. The young man twirls as he makes a shot, and with each shot, an angel falls. On the ground or in the air, none of them stands a chance. Meanwhile, the young man’s deadly performance goes on.  With each exploding sound of the wind, a crimson rush splatters into the air. The scenery is filled with dread and suffering, but at the same time, it carries a mesmerizing beauty that I can’t help but gaze towards it, even if my entire body should be disgusted beyond belief by the gruesome act.

When the young man finally lands on the ground once more, left standing are only me, and a lone, cowering archangel. And when his life is threatened by the cold barrel of the musket, Michael, still desperately holding onto his shoulder, asks without a shred of knowledge within him:

“But… how can you hurt me?”

“Do you mean your Gift, Kindness?” The young man raises his eyebrows. “If I recall correctly, it works in a way that as long as you don’t have any intention of hurting someone, they cannot hurt you, am I right?”

“Look how sad you’ve gotten, Bedivere.” Not letting the angel answer, the young man continues. “Not even realizing your own heart. Your ultimate defense was already shattered the moment you knew about the being from another world, so your animosity towards your old partner is all but confirmed. And now, to end this…”

“No. I refuse to end it here.” The angel grits his teeth. “Let’s make a deal, Demon.”

The young man, to my surprise, makes a light chuckle, and, still with his gun pointing at the archangel’s head, says:

“Yeah, that sounds more like you. Our safety, in exchange for your pathetic life. Is that a good trade, Lord Michael of the East?”

The angel goes silent. I don’t know what’s going on in his mind, but judging by his expression, it can’t be anything pleasant. However, in the end, there’s nothing else for him to do aside from swallowing whatever pride and dignity he has left and reluctantly nodding in agreement:

“… Yes… as long as you're on this land, your lives are guaranteed. You have my words.”

The archangel then, still under the threat of the individual, makes the same blue circle that got us into this garden in the first place and transports us back to the wreckage that was once our home. And as we safely return, the young man beside me finally speaks up to clear everything that has just transpired:

“So, I guess I owe you an explanation…”

 

“So, out with it.” As the two of us temporarily settle in a nearby inn, I start the question immediately. “Who are you?”

“As you could probably tell, I’m not the original body, the one you call Katsu.” The young man in front of me answers, calmly drinking his tea as if he’s just here for an afternoon snack. “And I believe I’ve already told you, that I’m not the Demon Byleth as well.”

“And you can’t be Petoro either, since that’s not his body.” I continue. “But that crosses out every option there is.”

“Not quite.” Letting out a light smirk, the young man shakes his head. “There’s still another possibility. One that even I wouldn’t dream of, in fact. It’s what you would call a miracle.”

“Miracles don’t exist.” I scoff at the individual’s answer. “Don’t mess with me.”

“I’m not messing with you. I can’t explain what it is, or how it happened either. But the fact that I’m sitting here right now is definite proof that miracles do exist.”

“And your point is?”

“I’m not Oda Petoro. I’m not Musashibou Petoro. And I’m not Byleth. I was born as a culmination of the three of them; a fusion of the three souls to produce an entirely new personality.” Taking a sip of his tea once more, the individual finally reveals his true identity. “That’s why I have Byleth’s power, and I have memories of all three of them at once.”

“A fusion of souls…” His words bring me nothing but disbelief, but, similar to him not having any proof to back up his claim, I do not have anything to disprove it. However, in the chance that his words are true, then…

“Does this mean… Katsu is also…” I ask with doubt and regret in my mind. Contrary to my worry, the young man shakes his head with a smile on his face, as he brings out something that gives me even more of a shock:

“He’s still alive. But he’s resting in my, or rather, our consciousness.”

I almost drop my jaw at the sight of the glimmering emerald cross on his hand. Raising my finger, it takes my utmost best to keep my voice and body from shivering:

“But… didn’t I destroy it?”

“You still underestimate the Demons too much.” The young man answers with a sigh. “The crosses weren’t tools for others to seal them, they’re tools for them to seal themselves. Creating another is no big deal, even if we’re considerably weaker after thousands of years.”

“So, this is a new one you just made?”

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“Yeah. I was planning on sealing myself here when the original woke up,” the individual nods to confirm. “And of course, I can take control over the body if needed, similar to the rest of the Demons temporarily taking over the others.”

“The problem is, though, lies in that boy.” It seems like not all is good news, as the one sitting before me lets out a sigh. “I’ve been trying to call out to him, but he just refuses to regain control.”

“What do you mean ‘refuse’?” The revelation sends me into confusion as I cast my doubt on the matter. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to take back their own body? What is that guy thinking right now?

Seeing my expression only makes the young man shrug as he continues his explanation:

“Beats me. He’s just sitting there, sulking on the edge of our consciousness space. I can’t get to him, no matter what I do. And bringing you back inside seems to be out of the question for the moment.”

“Why not?”

“I’m at a much weaker point than Byleth, especially after fighting those angels and spending my power to make the new cross. So, until I can convince the kid to return, looks like you’re going to be stuck with me for a while.”

“Wait, what do you mean “stuck with you”?” I ask with a skeptical look. I know that I don’t have any reason to stay in this town anymore, and I’ll probably leave soon, but what does that have to do with him?

“Well, think about it for a second.” The young man smirks at my question. “I have no home and no family. Where do you think I’m going aside from joining you wherever else on your journey?”

“… I guess you have a point.” Before his excuse, I can only let out a sigh. “And I know I have a destination in mind. But even so…”

“Don’t worry about it. I told you, right? I’m an entirely new personality born from a culmination of the three of them. You don’t have to worry that I’d go out of control.” Before I could finish, he has already answered, thinking that I’m worrying about Byleth’s earlier rampage would happen again with him around.

I can’t help but let out a smile on my face as I hear his words. Trying to make a reluctant look, I answer with a smile:

“Alright. I guess I’ll have to bring you along. Although…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Now that you mention it, what should I call you?” His last few words just now remind me of another problem at hand. The young man has stated many times that he’s none of the three souls I have met in my time staying here, so what exactly does that make him.

Surprisingly, he has the same thoughts as well.

“Huh… To be honest, I didn’t think of it. Let me see now…”

The young man then closes his eyes and crosses his arms, appearing to be deep in his own thoughts. And surprisingly, this takes longer than I expected. Much more than a few minutes have passed, even to the point that the table where we sit is starting to get dyed in a crimson color of the sunset. As I’m about to give up entirely and stand up once more, he finally opens his eyes and lets out a smile of satisfaction:

“I got it.”

“Took you long enough.” I scoff at the young man’s expression. Nonetheless, I still have at least some interest left in his matter, even if almost an entire day has passed. “So?”

“There’s a legend in this land, about a warrior who sacrificed himself for his Lord. Even if he’s all alone, faced with thousands of enemies, the man still fought bravely to the bitter end, so much that when his life passes away, his body still stands tall like a mountain, as if to forever block his foes from reaching his master.” The young man, surprisingly, starts off with a history lesson.

“Just get to the point, you.”

Ignoring my complaints, he continues, his eyes still looking at the horizon afar. “The souls that birth me are a peculiar bunch. Otsuya sacrificed her life to protect the prince so dear to her. Musashibou sacrificed his life to protect the family so dear to him. Meanwhile, Oda and Byleth didn’t have the courage to sacrifice their lives, or rather, they haven’t met that something so dear to them so they are willing to die for it yet. That’s why I want to find that something. Something for me to stake my life on. And for that reason, I’ll take the name of the man whose death became that legend.

Benkei. That would be my name from now on.”

“Benkei… It has a good ring to it; I have to admit.” I was planning on making fun of anything he said in an attempt to get back at the fact that he spent so long just to think of a name, but as he tells his purpose and reason, any other words in my mind just disappear into thin air. Raising my hand forward to offer a shake, I say:

“Welcome aboard.”

“Take care of me from now on.” With a smile on his face, the young man, now Benkei, takes the offer in kind. However, now that the party is formed, another problem arises, and it starts with a sudden memory returning to me.

“Hold on,” I ask with a nervous look on my face. “Ushiwaka is dead… So how are we supposed to leave this place?”

“No need to worry.” Benkei, on the other hand, remains calm. “We can still ask the others on his ship. It’s tragic news indeed, but someone has to inform them eventually.”

“… I guess you’re right,” I answer with a sigh. “Let’s go to the harbor tomorrow. We’ll probably meet them there.”

 

As the next day arrives, the two of us set out to find Ushiwaka’s crew the first thing in the morning. Feeling the salty breeze on my skin, I can tell that the harbor is just around the corner. However, the scenery when we arrive surprises me yet again, but for a completely different reason from when I first set foot in the place.

This time, not a single white robe or feathered wings is present, no matter where I look, even though two years ago, the entire harbor was flocked with angels all fully armed and ready to strike. Even Benkei is surprised by the fact, as he exclaims in shock upon making a quick glance over the open field:

“What’s this supposed to be? I’ve never seen anywhere in Japan so unguarded. And this is the harbor, no less.”

“Do you think that our fight yesterday had an effect on it?”

“It can’t be.” Benkei shakes his head. “I never made Michael promise to let down his guard like this. That man would only do the bare minimum to keep his end of the bargain, not dismissing an entire army.”

“Then…”

“Either something wrong has happened to the angels in the area, or they’re busy dealing with something else,” Benkei answers, his eyes still searching the area for anything suspicious that might come up. And it looks like his search is finally paying off, as he quickly gestures towards a faraway ship approaching the harbor at a breakneck speed. “Seems like the latter is true. Look.”

Directing my gaze according to his finger, I can make out a multitude of white figures surrounding that old, beat-up ship. It looks like the angels really are busy dealing with another matter at hand, but this looks like a chance for us.

“Let’s go, then. While they’re still occupied.”

“No, not yet.” Benkei, however, disagrees with my suggestion. “In fact, I think we should make our way towards that ship.”

“What? Why?”

“Did you know that Demons can sense the presence of one another?” Benkei starts to explain while still fixing his gaze towards the ship, which has now raised its sail in an attempt to make its way towards land as fast as it could. “That ability still remains within me, and now I’m sensing the presence of one of us on that ship.”

As the final words leave his mouth, the ship has also made its way into the harbor. However, its mast is already close to breaking, its sails have multiple holes in them, and its body is charred and pierced by various weapon marks. The angels surrounding the ship, however, still haven’t let up on their assault, and continue to hammer it with rains of arrows as they all shout out a threat:

“Give up, thief! You couldn’t shake us off on the sea already! Now that you’re on land, escaping is impossible!”

“Impossible, you say? Fools! Did you think mere chains and a floating prison could hold me? Did you honestly think that fighting me on land would make a difference to you?” To our surprise, a voice sounds, but not from the main deck. Instead, on top of the mast now rises a figure of a young man. The shining sun blocks most of our visions when the two of us try to get a closer look at his face, but judging from the little that I’m able to see, I would guess that our target is a male in his twenties, at most. Meanwhile, the man in question continues to sound, in a voice that’s more like an entertainer aiming at his audience rather than an escape convict fighting for his dear life. “Well let me tell you this: ‘impossible’ is a word only for commoners! For a chosen one like myself, such words have no power! Why? Because I can have everything in the world! If it has no owner, it’s mine! If it has an owner, it’s also mine! For nothing can stop the one, the only, the great Fairy Thief, Peter Peng!”

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