Death of the Old Blood

Imaru stood at the entrance of the cave as the sun set behind him. Anjou was waiting for him, breathing fire into embers that burned before him, and his axe was planted in the ground beside him. Imaru looked upon his father, the memories of their last encounter flashing in an instant before his eyes. He didn’t have Hal’Maci’s power to help him here, but he didn’t need it: this time, he was ready.

“So, you found Anagari.” Anjou stated. Imaru said nothing, instead slowly walking through the entrance of the cave, towards Anjou. “You never deserved to step foot on the resting place of our fathers. The tombs of our brothers. You may bear our mark, whelp, but you are Venatari in name alone.” Anjou sneered. Imaru snorted. “Is that what you think? Is that what this has all been about?” Imaru asked. “You know nothing. You understand nothing. And yet you claim a name as old as time itself – a name reserved for the strong, and the strong alone. Venatari is a name meant for those who have a spine. The ones who have it in them to do what needs to be done. But you? You’re weak. You can’t accept the way this world functions; that those like you are meant for nothing more than feeding us. Time and time again, you mistake your place; more than that, you make room for others to do the same. Like your precious pet Amunet. That is why I hate you so.” Anjou replied. Imaru stepped into the fire and looked down into Anjou’s malice-filled, orange eyes. The flames surrounded his calves and ankles, but did not touch him. “You’re wrong, Father.” he said. Anjou simply raised an eyebrow. “You hate me because I refuse to follow your path. Because I’m not a product of my environment. You hate that I have the strength to see beyond what this life has done to me, and make my own way. You hate that I’ve learned the difference between letting my pain fuel me and letting it control me. And you fear that others will follow my example and do the same for their sons and daughters, and turn the Venatari away from the cycle you so desperately want preserved: the very cycle that nearly destroyed us.

“You’re an animal. All you know is death and cruelty. You think it’s the only way because it’s the only way the world has shown you. The Amunets, the deaths of the Venatari – it all meant nothing to you but another reason to fight. To wage war. To continue the cycle.” Imaru stated. “Watch your mouth, boy! I watched everything be taken from me in a single night. My brothers and sisters, all slaughtered as they slept by those too cowardly to do it any other way. My mother, slain on my throne. Tell me that you have not experienced the same loss. Tell me now, boy, that even for all your weakness, you aren’t like me; a beast, bred of blood, just like this world. Just like Morsaki.” Anjou hissed. “I never said I wasn’t like you.” Imaru said, his tone calm. “We were both bound by our heritage to be killers. There was never any escaping that. We both have shed blood in the name of masters who needed our power. We both have suffered much – sacrificed much – over the years.” Imaru said, squatting to meet his father’s gaze. “But you don’t see that we can be different now. That we must be different. You don’t realize that the Venatari always, at their core, stood for the balance of the world, and acted according to whatever our end of that balance had to be: whether that meant we kill, or we heal. Destroy or build. You can’t see, so you can’t move forward. And that, Father, makes you blind. It makes you weak.”

“You don’t get to speak to me about weakness. Or about what my kin stood for.” Anjou growled. “You forget. They were my kin, too.

“The age of the Old Blood is coming to an end, Anjou. And that end starts with you.” Anjou rose to his full height. The Raw erupted from him as he picked up the large golden oshe, with far more explosive force than the first time they faced each other three years ago. This time, Imaru stood tall and looked Anjou in his eye. “I was merciful before, letting you live. I see now that was a mistake. Do not expect me to repeat it.” Anjou said. “After everything I’ve done to get here?” Imaru smirked, the Keys of Dudael manifesting themselves in his hand, warping the fabric of creation around their slender, dark golden blades as they appeared. The venom of Anansi – clear as to borderline invisibility – drenched the edges, generously coating them with a layer of the spider god’s poison, disguised by the eternal, shimmering blood of the fallen Primordial King. “I’m not the same as before.”

Anjou cleaved his axe downwards over Imaru’s head, but he was ready. Imaru sidestepped, the Gustsound aiding his movement. He leapt over the next sweep of Anjou’s axe, then met Anjou’s axe with a block from one of his own weapons in a crouching position. Imaru deftly maneuvered beneath Anjou’s reach, then whirled around and struck at Anjou’s eye. The speed of Imaru’s counter caught the Venatari Elder off guard; he barely managed to avoid it. Imaru swung again at Anjou’s torso, stepping behind his father as he dodged, releasing and telekinetically spinning one of his blades in an arc. Imaru backflipped, his gravitational field lightened to suspend him in the air. Once he reached the height of his ascent, he used the same hand to pull Anjou backwards with force equal to every Caller of the Warsound alive combined. As Anjou was yanked towards Imaru, who had already repositioned himself, he simultaneously called his weapon back to his hand and blasted Anjou in his chest as he passed with a Shadowhand push. The force propelled the both of them in opposite directions of each other, but Imaru landed gracefully on his feet. Anjou instantly burst through the back of the cavern and sailed several dozen miles through the sky. Imaru exploded after him, propelled by a telekinetic burst beneath his feet and using the Gustsound to soar through the air so fast, he reached the site of the crash before Anjou even landed almost a hundred feet away. When he fell, it left a crater that leveled everything for a dozen miles in diameter. Anjou snarled, his orange eyes burning with hatred as he rose. Soon, much of the rest of the ring was burning, too. “Make no mistake,” Imaru enunciated, his tone suddenly cold as ice and venomous as the toxin flowing down his blade as he watched his father rise to his feet. “This is very much personal.” Imaru craned his neck to dodge a bolt of dark silver lightning sailing for his head, not slowing his stride. “You deceived my great grandfather so he’d let you force yourself on my mother.” Imaru said, swatting aside a blast of black fire with one of his swords. “You stole me away from my home.” he added. A telekinetic pulse erupted from Anjou’s hand, but Imaru simply walked through it as it hit him squarely in his chest. “You abandoned me in a little hellhole in the middle of nowhere called Black Hill. And you didn’t even have the balls to do it yourself.” he sneered. Imaru started swirling his blades in his hands as he watched a mounting earthen shockwave, crossing them in an X over his head and bringing them down hard, shattering the entire attack with such force that it left an even larger part of the ground missing. “And I hope you don’t think I forgot about how you executed a child – my friend – and made her people watch before you massacred them, too.”

“So, no, ‘Father’: I’m not going to kill you yet. First, I’ll punish you. Before you die, you will break. And I’m going to break you by beating you. Completely. Utterly. In every way that makes you despair. I will watch the terror in your eyes as the hell I bring to you makes you question the one thing you hold closest to: your power. And only when you’ve watched the meaning of all your greatest achievements crumble into dust before me, and you have no choice but to finally acknowledge that the seat you so long for belongs to someone you look down on – only when I’ve made you bow at my feet and call me superior – will you have my permission to die.” Imaru sneered, stepping into a balanced stance. Anjou bared his teeth, seething as he approached. Imaru and Anjou charged forward at the same time, the impact of their weapons meeting sending a massive shockwave that deepened the already massive crater by a significant amount still.

Anjou’s rage increased his prowess significantly; he was fighting like a different person entirely than last time. His speed was heightened, his strength enhanced, and his technique advanced. But Imaru learned much in the years since their last encounter – especially during his time in the Venatari tombs. More than enough to easily hold his ground. Imaru never moved in the same way twice, and in every move he made, he ensured that he was always just outside of Anjou’s reach. He wanted to make sure that this time, Anjou didn’t even touch him. Imaru jumped back to miss a swing at his body, then rushed forward, a continuous stream of Arms flying towards Anjou at such a great speed from Imaru’s aura that they outflew even Time. Anjou was perceptive, but even his eyes could not detect the gap in the seconds between the moment the flying weapons appeared, and the instant they made contact – not initially. He took a blade impaling the sternum, a spear sailing through his shoulder, and a warhammer uppercutting past his chin. The impact sent him tumbling through the air, but he caught himself and landed on his feet, dodging another weapon and swatting a fifth out of the air with his axe. But by the time he adapted, Imaru was on him. Soaring through the air, a knee crashing into Anjou’s nose with a loud crack, he somersaulted above him and called the rest of his blades to shred Anjou while he was stunned. Ribbons of the Deaththread regenerated him in just enough time for him to survive the onslaught, but then as Imaru landed, he stabbed his blades into the ground and unleashed a pulse of electricity that paralyzed and levitated Anjou for just a moment as it passed him over. The elder collapsed on both knees as he fell, and in a red Surge, Imaru stood in front of him, his heel on the back of Anjou’s neck. “Bow to your Patriarch.” Imaru commanded. Anjou lifted his head from Imaru’s weight and roared, an inferno spewing from his maw. Imaru leaned back to dodge it, letting it pass just over his body before straightening. “You are a throwaway at best, whelp! And you will remember your place!” Anjou spat. Suddenly, his body was shrouded in shadows and his eyes took on a green glow. Beams of Deaththread emerged from all directions towards Imaru, who simply swung his blades in an arc to dissipate them. They exploded in black mist, and Anjou emerged from the fog, swinging his massive axe at Imaru’s neck. Imaru warped over him, slicing through Anjou’s back with both blades as he passed beneath. Anjou landed staggering. Deaththread surged to heal Anjou, but the Weave withered and crumbled around him. “What is this??” he groaned. “You, of all people, should know what it is, Venatari.” Imaru smirked. “You dare use the Trickster’s Gift on me?!” Anjou bellowed, whirling around and bringing the blade of his oshe through the ground, a mountainous wall of stone shooting towards Imaru instantly. He stopped its approach with a single foot. “I said I wasn’t going to kill you yet. I spoke nothing of Anansi’s Venom not doing that job for me. I suggest you kneel now; that was the first time I put any real effort into cutting you.” Imaru said. “The Ancestors favor me, boy! You have no power on me!” Anjou said, the sky shifting behind him into a cosmic haze, billions of red eyes all glaring down. “The Ancestors follow my lead already. They acknowledge what you will not; that I am the future of this house.” Imaru said, glancing back at the myriad countenances regarding them. The Ancestors closed their eyes, bowing as the mirage disappeared. Anjou seethed before raising his axe again, striding forward slowly. “Then when I devour your heart and make them watch, they will shame you in the afterlife and bow to me!” Anjou shouted. In an instant, Imaru was past him, slicing his way past his side. Anjou clutched his waist as he stumbled past. “They’ll only see you die trying.” Imaru said. He blocked another strike from Anjou’s axe with one blade, barely budging from the clash’s impact. Anjou put more and more of his immense strength into breaking past Imaru’s defenses, but he wasn’t even straining in this contest of strength. Then, Imaru started pushing back. Step by step, Imaru forced his father to give ground, using Rage Feasting to both boost his own physical prowess and stoke Anjou’s already wounded ego so he wouldn’t try to maneuver away. After moving him back several meters, Imaru pushed his arm outwards and sent Anjou skidding backwards. “Submit, Father.” Imaru intoned. Anjou bellowed, and a powerful tremor shook the entirety of the miniature continent that housed the Venatari tombs. “YOU ARE NOT ONE OF US!” he howled.

“No. I am all of us.”

The entirety of the air between them suddenly burst in multiple explosions, one of which set off right beside Imaru’s head. The burst of fire, infused with dark cosmic energy, only bounced off of the Aegis that Imaru erected at the last second. Then, he planted one of his blades into the ground and thrusted a palm forward, a mass wind acceleration event blowing all of the fire in the air towards Anjou as the flashes appeared, bringing double the combined force they would have inflicted on Imaru. Anjou flew backwards a large distance before he caught his footing again, barely withstanding the power thrown at him. By now, Anjou was breathing hard from both the beating he was taking and the venom that was slowly eating away his very soul, collapsing to a single knee. “WHY?!” Anjou yelled into the ground. But Imaru offered no answer as he lifted the massive man by his throat with his free hand, floating a few feet in the air. Black blood dripped from Anjou onto Imaru’s forehead. “Admit it. You’re nothing.” Imaru boasted, a crooked grin dancing on his face. Anjou raised his fist, but Imaru Surged past him again, this time, cutting his stomach as he warped behind him, and telekinetically slammed him into the ground. Imaru called his other blade back to his hand just as Anjou turned to retaliate, cutting the outside of his knee as it returned. Anjou howled, his leg buckling beneath him. “Concubine-spawned brat!” he spat. Imaru’s telekinetically enhanced foot drove it’s way upwards through Anjou’s chin, sending him rolling a few feet back. “You’re beaten.” Imaru said, striding towards his father. Anjou was barely moving now, struggling to even get to his knees. “Then end it. If you are such a superior warrior–“ Anjou coughed, nearly falling back down as he finally propped up a single leg. “Say it.” Imaru said, looking down. Anjou groaned, falling on his back. He managed to sit his back up to look him in the eyes as Imaru stood over him. “You have your victory. Patriarch.” Anjou growled quietly. Imaru smirked, then scowled.

“This is for Aesi!”

He slashed both blades across Anjou’s throat. Without another sound, Anjou fell back, dead.

Immediately, his body suddenly exploded in an orange light so bright, even Imaru was temporarily blinded. He sensed millions of spirits unlike his ancestors – or anything he had heard of before, for that matter – burst their way into the world. When the light died down, he saw a tall silhouette with a glowing pair of golden eyes staring at him before disappearing from the area. But by the time Imaru’s vision returned to normal, all that remained was Anjou’s body, already an ashen gray and fading into nothing. Deciding the event was unimportant for now, as he no longer sensed so much as a trail from the souls that had arrived, Imaru zeroed in on his next objective: finally facing Hal’Maci.

The time for Imaru’s homecoming was now.