Ooh, something interesting!
Little heartless decided to attack and a nasty little fire began to spread. Although this chaos was certainly enjoyable, it irritated Kodaka. Despite how evil he is, he finds that the killing of innocent people is unnecessary. It isn’t that he liked those weaklings; it’s just that it is such a waste of power on something so weak; like using a nuclear bomb on an ant.
So, he had to put a stop to that, there was no question about it. Grinning, the child decided to go at this without his weapon. The idea of keyblades didn’t sit well with him to begin with; he’d preferred his fists in battle.
Rushing toward closer to buildings, he noticed a bunch of heartless charging some running, and screaming, folks. Kodaka charged.
It took him five minutes to get closer to the castle; he wasn’t exactly at the gate but close enough. He saw a bunch of heartless, frozen in place, Kodaka, leaping high in the air grinned madly.
“Incoming!”
In his hands was a massive black ball, twice as big as him, he held it over his shoulders and prepared to throw. In the light of the fire, it could be obvious that the ball was a jumbled mess of dozens of heartless. Smashing up all of the heartless and compressing them into a ball, Kodaka decided to go the insane route of making an entrance.
Thankfully, there wasn’t that many heartless in the actual town and he had managed to gather up the ones that were attacking the people. There were probably more, but from his end there were scores of innocent people that, at this point, would’ve been heartless chow if it wasn’t for him.
Raising the ball of heartless, he threw it with all his might.
“Heroic, isn’t he?” the woman remarked.
“Wrong, that is not heroism. That is strength.” He corrected.
The two strangers stood at the edge of a building, not exactly concealed by anything in particular but were incredibly inconspicuous. She was at an average height with very long white hair that betrayed her youthful appearance. She had that timeless face, that made it difficult to pinpoint exactly how old she is. She looked at least as old as 30, but again as young as 20. She wore a simple shrine maiden uniform that didn’t look out of place except for the shackles she had on her wrists and legs.
Her eyes were a perfect golden color and her smile was playful and care-free, as if she were looking upon a nice game instead of destruction. However, her face was paler than usual and she appeared out of breath.
The man was completely opposite of her. While she was an open book in terms of her expression, he was enigmatic wrapped in the darkness of secrets. He was much taller than the woman and much more intimidating. He wore black clothes that were torn and had bloodstains, as if he got into a really bad fight. The man wore a mask that resembled a demonic face with horns, a third eye on his forehead, wide evil eyes, and a perpetual horrible smile along with pincers.
His entire body was covered except for his hands and feet. His skin was dark from the sun and leathery with time.
He was Silcardo Jihan Anakku, from a world that is currently under reconstruction. Silcardo was incredibly dangerous, even more so than the woman beside him who was essentially a god. She was Iwasaki Izumi, a woman of four trillion skills; she is of the same world as he and has spent a considerable amount of energy repairing the damage done there. It seems that her efforts have even tired her out, as she is not exerting her full strength at the moment.
Upon Iwasaki’s insisting, Silcardo and her traveled to this world not for the scenery or even to help out. But to keep an eye on Junichi. Even if Silcardo wouldn’t admit it, he was a bit restless when he discovered Junichi’s disappearance. Iwasaki decided to help him out by showing him that the boy was safe.
“Whatever the case is, he is quite the man,” Iwasaki insisted with a wary smile, “I can see where he gets it from.”
SIlcardo ignored her and produced a large orange from his robes, “Ack, this heat is unbearable. This world is strange, trying to rid thirst with ice-cream. The only way to beat the heat, is with fruit.”
Munching a huge chunk of the fruit, Silcardo watched Junichi approach the group.
“You gonna help?”
“A master does not interfere with his disciple’s battle,” he looked at her with distaste, “You, like all women, become too emotional and feel the need to be overly involved.”
He always had his mental shields up, “Either case, the boy needs his father. You should reassure him, tell him that you’re alive.”
Silcardo spat out a few seeds and swallowed the rest of the fruit whole. If you didn’t know him, you would think he was a true demon, something out of mythology.
“I will return for the boy, when it is right,” he answered, “Kakaka, it will be nice to watch his progress.”
With a diplomatic smile, both tired of arguing and uneasy from Silcardo’s nature, Iwasaki quietly agreed.
