The Great Hunt: Garm!

[sergerp.livejournal.com]

 Who: Serge and Grobyc
What: hunting the monster Garm, training for the hunt event
Where: Narshe (I wasn't sure what the amagi region is, so I placed the fight in the the snowy mountains)
When: 11:00 AM
Rating: PG for blood, of course.


Narshe….not quite the place Serge had envisioned, but a job was a job regardless. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the situation back in Dollet when they first arrived in this world and fought with Loz, nor was the problem, and he was just thankful for that. Sadly, this was a solo operation, for Kid was training and taking care of Denzel, as well as tending to her wounds from her fight with the strange being known as Vanitas. As for Glenn, the knight was nowhere to be found. He was probably still sick from the last time he called him.

He had only stopped within the village briefly, and that was only to contact the client and get some snow clothes; shorts did little to protect him against the harsh snow, and here he thought the summer would do well to rid the region of it. Thankfully they had managed to set him up with a small yet warm jacket, along with a pair of pants to prevent freezing, though all of this would be useless were he to let his guard down. But he had heard rumors that these creatures weren’t too powerful, so surely this would be an easy job. He needed all the practice he could get for the upcoming tournament...

The harsh snow grew fiercer by the second, the winds blocking his sight. Snowflakes were often enjoyed by the Chrono Trigger, except for this trip. Howls were mixed into the rising gusts, and he knew it wasn’t the black wind the Magus was famous for. The hint of savagery was present as always, but not darkness. He had learned to distinguish between the two. True darkness had always sent shivers up his spine. The Mastermune strapped to his back shined through the blizzard, and the words of the three spirits within came forth. “

Brrr! It’s colder than that time we fought that blue horsey thingy!” muttered Masa. “How can anyone live in this place!?”

“Could be worse,” replied Mune. “We could be…Nope, this is the worst! Why can’t we be back in the sun!?”

A tired sigh echoed, matching Serge’s. It was none other than the most tame and wisest of all the spirits of the Mastermune, and perhaps Serge’s favorite, Doreen. At least she had never once pestered him with trivial things. Rather than intense yelling or scolding from the spirit, the only thing audible was a hard slap and several moans of pain. “Enough from the both of you,” The wise spirit demanded, and immediately Serge pictured them arguing, in cartoon form of course. “Can you not see we are on important business, and it is not wise to disturb our master?”

“Yes sis!” They both answered in fear.

Serge allowed a chuckle to pass his lips. Having them around had always reminded him he was not alone, even if they were the pains to his skull every now and then. Company was nice every now and then… Growling caught him off guard, and immediately it was the kind he did not want. The winds picked up, blocking his sight with the harsh bitter cold. His vision may have been clouded, but he could detect multiple beings from within. Proving his point, eyes glowed through the storm with barking following them. Raising the Mastermune, Serge dashed forward, spinning his weapon through the raging blizzard…

And struck nothing, for the eyes simply vanished, becoming wisps in the wind. Sensing another horde of growling, Serge turned around, just in time for one of the Garms to come too close to him. Immediately the creature, sunk its fangs into Serge’s arm, drawing blood and struggling to rip it off. He was surprised the beast had gotten so close, and to inflict such a painful wound already. Rather than push the beast however, the white aura rose from his body briefly, repelling the beast back into the unknown blizzard. What might have seemed to be relief quickly turned into anger and fear; now the beast could attack under the blanket of snow.

Quiet now, Serge glanced at his injury; it was small, not nearly enough to immobilize Serge and weaken him, but enough for him to grit his teeth, and that was a hard enough task when they were chattering. Eyes and growls pierced through once more, and more shadows leapt out. Thinking ahead this time, a sphere of pure chi floated before Serge as he held his hands out: the Luminaire, a perfect skill for such an occasion. However, several more growls came from above, spiral towards him rapidly. At such a frightening pace, there was no possible way Serge could attack in time. Constantly they rammed into him, forcing him down to the ground several times, refusing to allow him to stand. Each blow felt like a motorcycle was hitting him, nearly shattering every ounce of his being. Even with the Mastermune, the creatures simply vanished the moment they were touched, and instantly resumed their relentless assault. Their fangs tore into Serge, but each pulse of light from his body kept them away, for a time.

Finally, he fell onto his knees again, coughing up blood after the last blow to his stomach, and panted. With such relentless fury, using Luminaire was near impossible. The storm was beginning to calm down at last, but far too late now. The Garms were finally visible, each bearing blood soaked fangs from the last hunters that dared to enter their territory. Serge on the other hand was not so fortunate, as blood trailed down his arms and legs, and his body sagged. The weak repels hardly did their job, and his only chance was a full blown Luminaire at best, maybe even Holy Light or a powerful element. His vision blurred, and the Garms slowly approached him, growling at their prey. Was this it? Was this how Serge was to be thanked after all he done for the world. Shaking his head and standing straight, glaring at the beasts, the white aura violently burst from his body, his anger rising. The storm picked up once more, and this time, it was not directed towards the Garms to aid them.

No…it was all for Serge, the power now welling up inside of him. Holding out his hand, the sphere of chi came back, shining brighter than before.

“Blackhole,” the monotone voice called out.

The Garms that threatened to destroy Serge were suddenly torn from the ground, ascending up to the sky itself. Acting quickly after the surprise attack, Serge stabbed the ground with the Mastermune, gripping on for dear life. Staring up, he was surprised to see a black element being used. Only certain people can use such power, and there was only voice that matched perfectly with the person casting the element. A smile crossed Serge’s face, coming to a realization.

“Grobyc!” he shouted into the sky with joy. The Garms stood no chance, and their bodies were crushed within the mini-blackhole. The element vanished, replaced with the view of a floating Grobyc. Serge continued to smile…until the cyborg descended upon him, and a beam blade coming from his arm. Acting on instinct, Serge brought up the Mastermune, the white aura being the only thing preventing the weapon from being cut in two. The Chrono Trigger failed to count on the immense strength of Grobyc, forcing his body to nearly buckle under the cyborg. Gritting his teeth and struggling to overpower his former friend, Serge finally pushed forward, knocking Grobyc across the battlefield and into a small patch of snow. Much to his dismay, Grobyc landed on his feet, poised to strike once more.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Grobyc!?” he shouted, trying to make sense of it all. “Don’t you remember who I am!?”

Holding out his hand, Grobyc did not acknowledge Serge, and simply fired the blade on his arm. Ducking under the blow, Serge pushed himself from the snow, the Mastermune clutched tightly in his hands as he advanced onto his former ally. “Answer me!” His answer came, in the form of a boot to his face, striking him on the cheek and across the field. Smacking against a wall and breaking part of the mountain with him, Serge collapsed onto the ground, the snow burying his body, for a second. Grobyc knew the blue-haired youth was not down from all the punishment he endured to this point; it took more than a dozen rapid wolves and a few hard blows to finish him off.

And he was right, for the tremors shook, forcing him to jump as the ground tore beneath cyborg. Slowly rising back to his feet, the ice that piled over him melted in seconds, revealing the dangerous glare Serge bore. No more warnings were given, and Serge dashed right towards Grobyc, his movements faster than before. Grobyc turned around, but not even his reflexes were fast enough to avoid the kick against his armor. Another yell bore from Serge, veins threatening to pop on his forehead rising. With all his might, Serge threw the Grobyc into the mountain side was thrown against. Rocks smashed under the weight of Grobyc, and the snow soon gave way, burying him for time being. Serge panted, falling onto his knee and trying to regain lost breath. Grobyc had never been so strong before, not to put his body through so much in such a short time. There had to be a mistake of some kind, but not even Schala or Magus could do such a thing to him; Grobyc was a machine, and the race of Zeal was known for its expertise in magic, unlike the Al-Bhed. Perhaps his answers would come if he simply took Grobyc and—

The ground finally gave way, and Serge yelled in fright at the sudden surprise. Even worse, the long fall below him lead all the way close to the town, and a fall from this height would be troublesome indeed. The Mastermune shined on his back, giving him the idea he needed. He maneuvered the weapon below his feet, placing them close to the staff holding the two blades. Like magnets, the weapon and master clicked together, and the smirk reached Serge’s face.

Raising his hands, he pointed them towards the rocks that fell with him, both glowing with the power of light. “Photonbeam!”

The force may have destroyed the rocks, but the recoil was the one thing Serge had aimed for. The force knocked him back into the wall, hitting the snowy patches and riding back down. More screams and complaints came from his weapons, but he was unable to hear them while riding. Snow followed his tracks in the form of a small avalanche; not nearly enough to kill anyone, let alone a town, but the impact wasn’t going to be pleasant in the slightest.

Finally coming to the end, the aura faded, and he was thrown forward, landing in a patch of snow. With a tired cough and sigh, and his mind dizzy, he simply laid there for awhile. So close to the town, no fiends dared attack. Footsteps reached his ears, and a faint smile came to his face when they were light. Closing his eyes, he rested…

And immediately jolted up as a pair of fangs, gripped his arm. On instinct alone, he got the beast in a head lock and stared wide eyed at it. It was another Garm, one larger than the rest. Though Serge wondered how powerful the beast would become, that thought was pushed aside, along with the neck of the beast, snapping it in two. Gasping for air, he laid down next to the fallen fiend, hopefully the last of the bunch. For now, all he wanted was a hot bath…

Answers could wait another day.

--

Grobyc finally flung the last bit of snow that bound him to the mountain. His vision was still blurry, and the kick had caused far more severe damage than he thought; the fight with Maria had cost him greatly. All he could do was let Serge revel in his small victory, for now. It was only a matter of time before he defeated his target once and for all. And next time, he’d make sure to pick a less….chilly environment, for his sensors’ sake.