Tundun was renowned for its dense, thriving forests. One of these was the Banahaw Forest, one of three sprawling woodlands near the capital. To the northwest of the capital city of Nilad, under the silver glow of a full moon, two women raced through its tangled depths, their breath ragged and labored as they fled from the soldiers chasing them.
“Ginoong Mayari! By the command of the Council of Elders, PLEASE STOP!” yelled one of the soldiers pursuing them.
Mayari's steps felt heavier, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. “My lady, are you alright?” Alita, her maharlika, glanced back with worry painted on her face. They pressed themselves behind the broad trunk of a towering acacia, its rough bark digging into their backs. Mayari struggled to catch her breath, she’s holding her side as pain from nonstop running takes its toll on her body. They had been running for over a kilometer, weaving through the twisted roots and undergrowth of the dark, suffocating forest.
“That fucker Aslon!” Mayari spat, fury burning in her voice. “I'll fucking make sure to make him pay when I clear my na—”
Before Mayari could curse any further, Alita clamped a firm hand over her mouth, eyes wide. But the damage was already done. The soldiers had found them, their footsteps growing louder as they closed in. In seconds, the two were surrounded. Rifles gleamed in the moonlight, pointed squarely at the young noblewoman and her companion. “Lady Mayari, by the order of the Council, you are under ar—!”
The leading soldier's command was cut off by a sharp cry as Mayari hurled a rock that struck him squarely in the eye. Mayari punches the air as if winning a lottery.
“Get her!!!” came the furious roar from the soldier. They lunged forward, ready to seize her, but Alita's hand darted into the folds of her cloak, retrieving a small, round object. With a swift motion, she slammed it against the ground. A loud pop cracked through the air as dark, acrid smoke billowed around them, stinging the soldiers' eyes and forcing them to stumble back, coughing and cursing.
“Now.” Alita whispered urgently, grabbing Mayari's arm, they burst into a sprint. Running through the thick bramble with a desperation born of survival.
The two pressed on as the soldiers struggled to find them once again. Panting, Mayari listened to the rustling of leaves nearby. Alita pulled her and dove into the tall grass, their bodies pressed flat as they scanned the darkened landscape. From a distance, flickering lamplight bobbed closer... ten, maybe more, signaling another group of soldiers searching for them. Just as Mayari's heart thudded with the threat of capture, another noise came from their right. The soldiers suddenly stood at attention, their silhouettes sharpened by the moonlight.
A figure stepped from the grass, his own lamp casting a warm, wavering glow. He wore a wide-brimmed salakot, and though his face was obscured by shadow, the moon revealed a striking feature: silver medium length messy hair that shines under the moon.
“Hey, you!” barked one of the soldiers, rifle aimed and finger twitching on the trigger. “Who are you and what are you doing here at this hour?!”
The stranger raised his hands in a mock show of surrender, his voice filled with a casual, almost mocking tone. “Oi oi, easy there boss. Just a traveler from Pailah who lost his way. Got separated from my teacher.”
“A traveler from Pailah?” The guard's eyes narrowed. “So, you're a spy!”
“Now, now, let's not jump to conclu—” The man's sentence was cut short as the soldier slammed the butt of his rifle into his gut. He doubled over with a groan, dropping to his knees. Another guard's boot struck him, sending him sprawling into the dirt.
"Ugh... Wait, please, I'm just... a trave...Ow ow OW!!!" he gasped, wincing as their kicks rained down on him.
"Shut up, spy!" they shouted, grabbing his satchel and rifling through its contents. "Take him and his belongings. We will keep moving! We need to find the princess!"
"No, wait, that's mine! Hey!" he shouted, his voice echoing as he struggled to his feet, only to be pushed down again.
Hidden among the grass, Mayari's eyes widened as she sees the young man being beaten. Alita on the other hand saw an opportunity. She gripped Mayari’s arm tightly. “My lady, we need to go. Now,” Alita urged, her voice trembling with urgency. Mayari hesitated for a split second before nodding, and together, they slipped deeper into the dark, leaving behind the mysterious man with the silver hair.
While of this chaos is happening, across the capital, the sound of urgent knocking shattered the stillness of the night. Aslon jolted awake, scowling as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, the remnants of slumber quickly giving way to irritation. “Lord Aslon! My lord!” came the frantic shout from beyond the door.
Aslon stormed over and threw it open to find Marahuyo, his most trusted maharlika, panting and disheveled.
“My lord, dire news,” Marahuyo said, voice shaking. “Word has spread throughout the palace…Lady Mayari has escaped with her maharlika.”
Upon hearing it, a sly grin spread across Aslon's face, puzzling Marahuyo. "My lord... what are your orders?" she asked hesitantly, taken aback by the unexpected reaction.
“Listen closely,” Aslon instructed, voice low. “Find Nemo and tell him where Mayari was last seen. Inform him that it is time to enact the third plan.” Marahuyo bowed and hurried off, leaving Aslon to close the door, a wicked gleam flickering in his eyes.
Back in the forest, a lone man stood surrounded by a cluster of bodies. The moon's light peeked out from behind the clouds, casting a soft glow on his silver hair and round brown eyes that compliments his skin. A smirk curled on his thin lips as splatters of blood marked his white shirt. “Yatap oka oten...” he muttered jokingly. “Tsk, tsk... Teacher's gonna kill me.” He wiped the blood splatter from his cheek and sighed. “You really had to push me, didn't you?” he whispered, kicking one of the fallen bodies. He tore a strip of cloth from a soldier's uniform and wrapped it tightly around the bleeding wound on his right arm. “Getting shot... just my luck,” he murmured with one of his thick brows raised before stepping away from the grim scene.
Meanwhile, Mayari and Alita continued their frantic run through the dense forest, the echoes of their breathing mingling with the night sounds. Mayari's mind raced, replaying the brief encounter with the mysterious man the soldiers had confronted. She hadn't gotten a clear look, but from what she saw, he seemed close to her age.
“Lady Mayari, PLEASE STOP!!!” A voice rang out from their left, and three soldiers emerged from the shadows. They veered to change course, only to find four more soldiers blocking their path ahead and another three closing in from the right. The two backed up against a thick tree, the rough bark pressing into their skin once again.
Alita stepped forward, her stance protective and fierce, eyes narrowing as she drew her kampilan with a fluid motion. “Lady Mayari, we're only following orders to capture you alive,” one of the soldiers declared. "If you truly have nothing to do with Datu Rakta's death, there's no need to run."
The wind rustled the leaves, carrying an eerie chill that whispered through the trees. The moon's light and the dim lanterns held by the soldiers cast a sinister glow, heightening the tension. The heart of the forest felt like it held its breath. The soldiers pointed their rifles at Mayari, but she remained defiant, eyes full of determination. “You think you can scare me with those guns?" she said. "You just said it. You need me alive.”
“And do you think I'll let you take my lord?” Alita's voice was sharp as she shifted her stance, ready to fight.
Realizing their bluff had failed, the soldiers lowered their guns and unsheathed their kampilans instead. The stand-off lingered for a moment, the air hangs with anticipation. Then, Alita quickly lunged to the left, her blade slicing clean through the arm of one soldier. A swift pivot and downward strike left another with a deep gash from shoulder to hip. Screams of pain echoed as two fell, writhing. The forest erupted as four more soldiers charged simultaneously, desperation fueling their attack. Alita extended her left hand, and from the very earth beneath orange light glowed beneath her feet, a second kampilan seemed to rise, conjured by her magic. She spun in a blur, the sharp blades swinging through the air. Three swift rotations and four soldiers collapsed, blood spraying into the dark, humid night. Their cries were cut short, replaced by the ragged gasps of those still standing.
The remaining soldiers stumbled backward, their eyes wide with disbelief as raw fear consumes their soul. Their throats tightened as they stared at Alita, sweat beading on their brows despite the cool wind. They had known the Maharlikas were fierce, elite warriors, but witnessing it firsthand is an entirely different story. This was something beyond what they could have imagined.
“Don't be afraid” one of the soldiers shouted, trying to rally them. They braced for another attack, only to be stunned when, out of nowhere, a soldier's head tumbled from his body, severed cleanly. Alita's eyes darted around, searching for the unseen assailant.
“Alita... what happened?” Mayari's voice quivered with panic.
“I don't know, my lady,” Alita replied, handing one of her kampilans to Mayari. Her eyes never wavered from their surroundings. “But it wasn't me who beheaded that soldier. Lady, stay alert. There's someone else here.”
Before Mayari could respond, a powerful hand clamped over Alita's face and slammed her to the ground. The impact sent a sharp jolt through her skull, making her vision blur and her ears ring.
“ALITA!” Mayari screamed, watching in horror as her protector lay motionless on the ground.
The soldiers' faces turned pale, their eyes darting to the figure stepping into the moonlight. This man, who had effortlessly incapacitated a Maharlika in a single move, exuded an air of malevolence. His blood-red hair shimmered in the dim light, and a twisted smile spread across his face. He grabbed Alita by the throat and hoisted her up with ease.
The man's right hand hovered over Alita's chest, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he traced a line from her collarbone to her navel. A deep, crimson wound opened as if drawn by an invisible blade, blood gushing forth. The man's expression shifted to one of mild disappointment as he released her limp body. “So this is what they call a 'Maharlika'? Tsk, you guys are overhyped.”
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He turned his eyes on Mayari, who stood paralyzed, tears streaming down her face. “You must be Mayari,” he said, stepping closer. “I'm here to take you back.”
“Princess! Snap out of it!” one of the remaining soldiers yelled, rallying to form a protective line in front of her. They brandished their weapons with trembling hands.
The red-haired man raised an eyebrow, a dark amusement playing in his eyes. “And what exactly do you think you're doing?”
“W – We will protect Ginoong Mayari!” one soldier stammered, his voice breaking, knees shaking as he fought the urge to wet himself. “We don’t know who you are! And we won’t allow such disrespect to a maginoo!”
“Steady your hearts, comrades! It's time to show our courage!” shouted their leader, trying to rally his men.
A sharp, maniacal laugh burst-out from the man with red hair, sending an icy shiver down the soldiers' spines. His tone was taunting as he echoed, “Courage?” His lips twisted into a devilish grin. “The perfect word for sheer stupidity.” He swept his hand through the air as if conducting an orchestra. Instantly, razor-sharp gusts of wind sliced through the soldiers' bodies like unseen blades. Limbs and cries of agony fell in concert, blood spattering the dark undergrowth.
He laughed again, a sound that only deepened the dread in Mayari's chest as he advanced toward her. The screams of her protectors, now severed into silence, yanked her back into the moment. Fury flared in her eyes as she tightened her grip on Alita's kampilan.
“YOU FUCKING MONSTER!!!” Mayari screamed, charging at him with reckless determination.
With a flick of his wrist, he caught her arm mid-strike. Before she could react, a powerful punch to her cheek sent her sprawling across the forest floor. The taste of her own blood blossomed in her mouth. This was the first time anyone had ever struck her. The red-haired man sighed as Mayari's body limped on the undergrowth of the forest. He’s about to take Mayari when…
“Oi, oi...” a new voice interrupted. The man, looked up, curious by the interruption. sitting at the top of an ancient acacia tree was another figure. Without a moment's hesitation, the newcomer leaped down.
This figure had disheveled silver hair, wrists encircled by metal wristbands, and wide, feline-like eyes. His nose was unremarkable, common among the people of Ma-i, and his lips were thin and firm. Mayari struggled to lift her head, her vision blurry but enough to recognize him as the man who had encountered the soldiers earlier. His white shirt was now stained with dark, drying blood. “Are these two allies?” she wondered, a chill running down her spine.
“Pira wristbands?” Nemo muttered to himself, eyes narrowing. “A slave? Hhmm, doesn't matter.”
With a sweeping motion, Nemo unleashed another wave of razor-sharp wind, but to his shock, the newcomer sidestepped it effortlessly. “Oi oi, easy there man...” the young man said, smirking. Nemo's eyes widened slightly. The strike he'd just launched was as fast as sound, no ordinary man should be able to evade it. Recognition dawned on Nemo's face, his smile growing. This is going to be interesting.
“Hey, who are you? What's your name?” Nemo demanded, eyes glinting with excitement.
The man smiled back, “Wan Pusong, a traveler.”
“Mine's Nemo Pangan. A mercenary.”
Wan unhooked a pair of steel-made arnis from his waist, assuming a combat stance with a calm, focused expression. He knew this fight would not be easy. Nemo, on the other hand, began a slow, deliberate march forward, muttering an incantation under his breath, “Teeth that glimmer, strong as steel, let my enemies' doom be sealed. Barangaw, your wrath they shall feel!” A red glow enveloped Nemo's right hand, and from that light, a double-edged sword materialized out of thin air.
“Damn that looks cool,” Wan whispered to himself.
Nemo charged with a sudden burst of speed, and their weapons clashed with a metallic scream. Sparks flew as Wan met Nemo's assault head-on. Meanwhile, Mayari seized the distraction to check on Alita. She felt for a pulse and breathed a small sigh of relief when she found one. Quickly, she uncorked a water flask and poured its contents over Alita's face. Stripping off her own shirt, she tore it into strips to wrap the deep wound that marred Alita's side. “Alita, I order you not to die.” she whispered fiercely to the Maharlika, as if the latter hears her.
The ground trembled as Nemo's sword sliced clean through the thick trunk of a tree behind Wan, splitting it like a twig. Wan ducked, narrowly avoiding the lethal blow, and stepped in to disarm his opponent. Nemo, however, leaped back, but Wan followed relentlessly. Backed up against the fallen tree, Nemo realized too late that he was cornered. "Did he lure me here on purpose?" The thought barely crossed his mind before Wan was upon him, delivering a bone-crushing strike with one of his arnis to Nemo's side. A wave of excruciating pain exploded through Nemo's body, like being slammed by a battering ram. He gritted his teeth, swallowing the agony, and retaliated with a slash of his blade that grazed Wan's left arm.
“Not bad,” they said in unison, smirking at each other through labored breaths.
Nemo wiped the blood from his lips and stepped forward again. Both fighters paused for a second before resuming their duel. Nemo aimed for Wan's right arm, but Wan intercepted it with his arnis, ducking to drive the handle's butt into Nemo's chin. Staggering back, Nemo lashed out instinctively but was met with Wan's agile sidestep despite this, Nemo manages to slice Wan's left side. The wound wasn't deep, but it was enough to make Wan fall to his knees, gasping and slowing.
“You're skilled,” Nemo admitted with a crooked grin, joy visible on his face as he walk closer to the kneeling Wan.
Wan moved fast, slamming his head into Nemo's jaw. The force sent Nemo sprawling onto the ground, yet instead of anger, a laugh burst out of him, low and unhinged. Mayari, watching with wide eyes, tightened her grip around Alita's wounded body, stunned by the brutal pace of the fight.
Nemo picked himself up, eyes gleaming with manic energy. "Are you ready?" he taunted.
"Huh? For wh—" Wan's response was cut short as Nemo's foot smashed into his stomach, sending him skidding back a few meters.
Nemo lunged with his sword poised to pierce, but Wan rolled away just in time. Waiting for the perfect moment when Nemo's momentum slowed, Wan spun to his left and struck with both arnis at once. Nemo raised his sword to block, but it shattered under the impact, dissolving into nothing. The arnis slammed into Nemo's ribs, launching him backward until he crashed into a boulder, grimacing with pain. Wan darted forward, eyes locked on his fallen foe, but hesitated when Nemo flicked his wrist. A blade of wind shot out, razor-sharp and deadly, grazing Wan's right arm even as he tried to dodge.
Nemo slowly rose, panting yet grinning like a man possessed. He broke into a wild, ringing laugh that echoed through the trees. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” His eyes glistened with raw, twisted excitement as he locked eyes with Wan. “MORE! MORE! MORE, GIVE ME MORE! IT'S BEEN TOO LONG SINCE I FELT LIKE THIS!” With that, he tore off his tattered shirt, revealing an intricate tattoo on his back, a flaming bird devouring the moon.
Nemo's eyes gleamed wildly as he screamed, “COME CLOSER, WAN! LET'S CONTINUE OUR DANCE!!!” His voice cracked with an unhinged excitement, and his appearance mirrored that of a rabid beast.
A whirlwind of cutting winds engulfed Nemo, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. With a blur of motion, he lunged at Wan. Wan raised his arms defensively, but it wasn't enough. Razor-like winds slashed across his body, leaving deep, jagged gashes. He crumpled to the ground, his body a crimson wreck. No one would blame him if he chose to stay down. His skin was covered by deep wounds, and blood cascaded down his body, soaking him. Yet, against all odds, Wan staggered up, fighting against the searing pain that threatened to paralyze him. Even Nemo's confident expression shakes as he watched Wan's battered form rise. Wan wiped the blood that trailed from his brow to his eye, clutching his arnis tightly and bracing himself once more.
Step by bloodied step, Wan advanced, his resolve unwavering. “STOP THIS!” Mayari shouted, voice cracking with desperation. “Please, leave while you still can!” But Wan's eyes were empty, devoid of consciousness, driven only by instinct and defiance. He moved like a specter, a force that would not be quelled.
Nemo paused, baffled by the impossible sight before him. How was Wan still moving? He should have bled out by now. What is keeping him alive? His eyes caught the black, smoky, shadow-like tendrils seeping from Wan's shattered wristband. At first, they seemed like mere vapors, but they twisted and churned, flowing like a torrent eager to burst free from a pipe.
The manacle on Wan's left arm finally shattered, and Nemo swallowed hard. His hands began to tremble involuntarily, a sensation foreign to him. Was it exhilaration that made his heart pound? The thrill of a worthy foe? Or was it… fear? Beads of sweat raced down his brow as he waited for Wan's next move. He felt paralyzed, more inclined to watch than to strike.
Wan extended his left hand, and from the shadows a black, dual-edged blade that shimmered ominously was formed. In that moment, Nemo realized something: his opponent wielded a magic akin to his own. Wan's magic, too, was of the Anima class. But unlike Wan, he could....
Nemo's thoughts fragmented as Wan blurred into motion, faster than eyes can follow. Suddenly, the cold bite of Wan's blade was buried deep in his abdomen. Nemo gasped, blood sputtering from his lips as he struggled to process what had happened. Wan stood over him, eyes devoid with consciousness.
Mayari's eyes widened, mouth agape as she processed the impossible. How had a slave defeated a mercenary who had effortlessly slain so many soldiers and brought down a Maharlika with ease? With a sharp yank, Wan withdrew his blade, raising it high attempting to split Nemo in half. The blade descended, only to be interrupted by a sudden, powerful kick that sent Wan skidding away from his target.
A woman had appeared, moving with lethal grace. She rushed to Wan's side, snapping a new wristband onto his left wrist with an audible click. She exhaled heavily, as if relieved. "You reckless dimwit," she muttered, giving Wan's blood-soaked body a sharp nudge with her boot.
Mayari's mind spun, barely able to grasp the series of events. In one night, she had been accused of her father's murder, fled captivity in her own palace, dodged pursuing soldiers, been punched by a stranger, witnessed a commoner best a mercenary who easily defeated her Maharlika, and now this, a tall, pale-skinned woman stood before her. The stranger had a lean frame and a short bob cut hair dyed an unusual purple. The woman approached, revealing sharp features, a proud nose, and striking green eyes. Her thin lips curved into a small smile as she leaned in and asked, “Psst, soya ak gnal?”
“S - soya ak gnal?” Mayari asked, her voice trembling. “W-what do you mean??”
“Ahctup, oo ang alap...” The woman bent down, her eyes sharp and assessing. “What I mean is, are you alright? Did my dimwitted student hurt you?” She pointed to Wan, who lay unconscious.
“No–no... he was the one who helped me and my servant,” Mayari replied, with voice still shaking.
“Ohhh, is that so? Alright then.” The woman straightened up and walked back to where Wan lay. With a quick, effortless motion, she hoisted Wan's bloody body over her shoulder and started to leave. “Babush”
“W-WAIT!” Mayari shouted, desperation cracking her voice. The woman paused, glancing back over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow.
“Please... take my servant with you. She needs help,” Mayari pleaded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
The woman sighed, rolling her eyes as if contemplating the burden of compassion. “Miss, judging by the torn bodies scattered around, the shredded uniforms of Tundun soldiers, and the corpse of that man lying there, it's clear that one reason you're here is because you escaped from something or someone.” Her gaze turned calculating. “Sorry, but I don't want to get involved in your mess.”
Mayari forced herself to stand, despite her wobbling legs, she bowed to her knees before the woman. “I–I'm begging you.” Tears streamed down her face as she gripped the hem of the woman's trousers. “I'm the reason she's at death's door. Please... save her, I can fend for myself.” It was the first time in her life that Mayari ever kneeled and pleaded like this to anyone.
The woman ran a hand through her hair with a sigh, as if exasperated by her own conscience. “Alright, fine. Pick up your friend and follow me.”
Relief flooded Mayari's eyes. “Thank you!” She quickly moved to Alita's side, lifting her with all the strength left in her battered body.
“Oh, one more thing.” The woman shrugged off her outer layer and handed it to Mayari. “Put this on. You must have noticed by now that you're, well... exposed.”
Mayari flushed, mortified, and immediately slipped into the offered garment, her cheeks burning red. The woman was now left wearing just a tank top, her toned arms flexing as she gestured. “S-sorry about that,” Mayari murmured.
“Suya ngal,” the woman said, her smirk holding a hint of teasing amusement, Mayari's eyes narrowing slightly in that peculiar language she spoke. "Let's move."
“W-wait a minute...”
They both turned toward the source of the voice. There, lies Nemo, hair wild and matted with blood, his body trembling and mouth streaked with crimson.
“Ooohh, you're still alive,” the woman said, her eyes glinting with a mixture of approval and annoyance. “Looks like you're stronger than I thought, managing to push my useless student to force his subconscious to use his magic.” She turned away again, starting to walk off. “Strong, yes... but sadly, you're beaten by someone stronger, I can't blame you tho.”
Nemo could only manage a blood-stained smile before letting his eyes drift shut, as if savoring the strange compliment in his final moments of consciousness.
