The False King - Avalon/Guts - [Berserk AU]
The sound of steel clashing rang behind the screams of thousands as the battle painted the field with crimson and decorated the barren land with limbs. The sun was no longer a light of purity, for its rays illuminated the ungodliness unfolding in the land. Yet, within the chaos – within the bloodshed, was the hawk’s eyes. The white and black hawk, worked in harmony much like the forces of yin and yang. An order would be given, and the other would carry it out. That was the way he lived now. Guts - a man who once resembled a lone wolf, was now the commander of the Band of the Hawks; the raven bird that was Griffith’s sword.
"Enter swiftly and slay the King during the midst of the battle, when security hits a low point." That was the white hawk’s command and the swordsman complied without hesitation. With the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the excitement tingling at his fingertips, Guts stormed into the castle once Judeau and the others helped him get a clear way inside. Rough digits gripped the hilt to his monstrous sword as he made his way through the poorly lit halls. It was too quiet. The silence is what threw off the warrior. "Where are the fat bastard’s play toys? "Gut’s thought to himself.
Yet, further down the hall, it was clear what had happened to them. Young boys of various ages laid in a puddle of their own blood. What was the point in killing them? Knowing the roles they've lived struck a personal nerve within the young commander. Instead of the intention of simply carrying out his duty, vindictive desire now clenched the weapon within his palms. A pleading cry hauntingly echoed throughout the bricked hall, loud enough to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. The thought that the piece of shit killed himself pushed him even harder to find the source of the howl – he didn’t want the king to get off that easily.
Once he rushed through the doorway and turned, what he met with stunned him. Halting immediately, his eyes widened as he stared at the mangled body of the King of Doldrey with an unknown assailant towering over him with their blade in his mouth. Piercing hues of gold and silver is all he could make out beneath the black cloak that concealed them. However, once the stranger prompted their head, it was evident that the assassin was a woman. In his confused state, he loosened his grip on the hilt of his sword and left his jaw slightly open. Who the hell was this woman? When she sprinted toward him, Guts immediately broke from his thoughts and lifted his broadsword and deflected her attack.
She was quick – he had to give her that. Still, he was thrown into a state of confusion. If they had the same target, would she be considered his enemy? However, his instincts did not allow him the wisdom – his sword was lifted and swung around, attempting at taking her life in exchange for his own. The opponent was quick, dodging the movements of his heavy blade. The piercing of his flesh from a few small knives thrown into his chest dazed him for a moment, but was not enough to cause him to stumble. While she thought the piercing would have thrown him off, she was greatly mistaken. Charging in for a head on attack, Guts cut down promptly.
What followed was not the feeling of crushing bones or the cutting of flesh, but resistance. Gut’s pressed down, had the woman struggling to stand as she defended herself with crossed twin daggers. Gritting his teeth, he looked her in the eyes and spitted bitterly, “Who the hell are you?!” He was met with silence. “Why did you kill the bastard over there?” He could say her skill matched that of Casca, but her fighting style was unpredictable and thus, even more challenging. Using his force against him, the woman threw his sword aside, knocking him off balance. When she went to stab him, Guts quickly released one hand off of his sword and grabbed her wrist – he would not go down that easily.
With ease, he slammed her against the wall. “I’m not your enemy!” He threw the ignorant assumption with only the desire to hopefully get answers. If she were to possibly be a threat to Griffith, he would eliminate her without hesitation. But, yet again, she quickly made her way near a blind spot. They were back at square one, with her defending. He was hoping the steel would crack from the pressure of his weight and his sword. “Guts-“ The voice of his comrade called out, what a state to have Griffith find him in.
The swordsman released one hand from the handle of his sword, a devious move that was unexpected of the lioness, and he delivered a blow to her face with a clenched fist. Once her stance faltered, Guts used his feet and kicked her down to the ground. As he went to end her life, Griffith shouted. “Wait!” Following the demand, Gut’s sword paused right above the woman’s body, leaving a rush of wind to follow. With a confused expression, the Commander looked at his comrade as he walked over to her.
grimreaperofthelight
