"You are worthless, Balthazar!"
Thunk!
Two young men clashed in the sparring field, wooden swords striking hard against each other. One bore black hair, the other stark white.
The black–haired boy struggled to block the relentless strikes raining down upon him.
His opponent, the white–haired boy, wore arrogance across his face. He attacked effortlessly, hardly breaking a sweat.
"You are weak! Foolish! An ill-made spiteful creature!" the white–haired boy spat as he pressed forward.
The black–haired boy gritted his teeth, doing all he could to deflect the furious blows.
The white–haired boy lifted his sword high, then brought it down in a swift arc. The black–haired boy quickly raised his wooden blade to defend.
But a sudden kick struck his stomach.
Bam!
The black–haired boy was hurled back, crashing onto the training ground.
Up close, his condition looked dire. Blood streamed from his mouth, his eyes burned red, and his face was already bruised beyond recognition.
The white–haired boy strode closer, eyes sharp as blades.
"Remember this, you are nothing but a bastard child," he declared coldly.
Then he smirked, a mocking chuckle slipping past his lips. "Still, compared to being born a lowly commoner, perhaps… you should count yourself fortunate to be a bastard, Balthazar."
Breathing raggedly, as if every gulp of air might be his last, Balthazar suddenly lunged forward. His grip on the wooden sword tightened with fury.
The white–haired boy flinched, retreating a step as he tried to lift his sword to block.
Too late. Balthazar's sword struck his neck.
The white–haired boy stumbled aside, his face twisted with rage.
Once more Balthazar charged, his movements unnaturally fast, driven by the insult he had just endured.
Thunk!
The strike was parried.
The white–haired boy countered, swinging at Balthazar's face.
Balthazar tilted his head back by a hair's breadth, narrowly evading the blow, then thrust his sword straight into his opponent's stomach.
The strike landed clean.
The white–haired boy staggered back, clutching his gut, body hunched in pain.
"You damned bastard!" he roared, raising his blade high.
But Balthazar's eyes sharpened. He ducked under the strike, then kicked his opponent's shin.
The white–haired boy toppled, sprawling onto the dirt.
Balthazar pounced, pinning him down by the chest.
He tossed aside his sword and unleashed a storm of fists.
Bam! Bam!
The white–haired boy grunted, sword raised desperately to block. Confusion flickered across his eyes, how had Balthazar suddenly grown this strong?
"I've had enough," Balthazar growled, his bloodshot gaze burning into his foe.
His fists hammered down against the wooden blade that shielded the other boy's face. He cared nothing for the pain, nothing for the blood dripping from his hands. Even if his knuckles shattered, he would not stop, not until his fury was spent.
"I am exhausted. Fucking beyond fed up!" His voice was heavy, each word laced with venom.
Bam! Bam!
Crack.
Splinters spread across the wooden blade.
"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" the white–haired boy screamed, spittle striking Balthazar's cheek.
Balthazar did not relent. Blow after blow rained down until—
CRACK!
The weapon snapped in two.
For the white–haired boy, the world slowed. He saw the punch coming as though in a dream, then it smashed hard into his face.
BAM!
That single blow opened the floodgates. Dozens more followed in merciless succession.
"Stohp, You bastard!" The white–haired boy writhed, but Balthazar's hold was iron.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Splash!
Blood sprayed. His face turned purple, swelling grotesquely.
"Stop! Please!" he begged.
But Balthazar no longer heard him.
His mind and heart demanded only one thing: to beat this asshole into the earth.
At last, Balthazar clasped both hands together, raising them high for a single, final strike. A killing blow to end it all.
"Go to hell, Hernece Ni Salva."
Hernece, the white–haired boy, saw the raised fists and covered his face in pitiful fear.
But before Balthazar could bring them down —
Hundreds of radiant lights streaked from the night sky, descending over the kingdom of Chesper.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Hernece's bloody lips curled into a grin. A hollow laugh burst out, mocking and triumphant.
"Hahaha! Fucking bastard! I hope you die in the tutorial!" he spat, baring broken teeth.
Balthazar froze, arms trembling. His gaze lifted in awe as pillars of light rained down upon the land, encircling them both. It was only a matter of time before the radiance consumed them.
"I will have my vengeance once I return! Remember this. Bastard!" Hernece growled, clutching at Balthazar's torn shirt.
Balthazar met his eyes, a crimson gleam flaring in his own.
He smirked.
"And I… I shall torment you all once I return, remember this. Weasel." Balthazar whispered, the promise sharp as steel, not only to Hernece, but to every soul who had made him suffer.
Balthazar vengeance would be one hundredfold.
So cruel that death itself would seem a mercy.
Hernece glared back, eyes equally bloodshot. Both of them were battered, bruised, and broken.
At last, the moment they had awaited arrived.
A pillar of light descended upon them, swallowing both whole.
[Congratulations! You have officially become a Gambit!]