Grand Voyage- Log 39

Log 39: The Three Trials Part 5
The Shroomian warriors howled, launching themselves into the air, their hands flying through the space, aiming dozens of punches at their Majin opponent.

“Ras!” Art cried, slamming his hands into the ground and launching himself into the air. He spun around, then straightened, aiming a kick straight for one of their necks. It retaliated by quickly snatching the leg, then hurling him up into the air.

The Majin straightened himself once again, then began coasting down, preparing his next attack. Several warriors lunged at him, and he raised his leg to block as one of the fists impact. “Guh!” he gasped, as the force of the blow took him off guard. He flew back a bit and skidded, staying upright, and found himself at the other end of the arena.

As the warriors regrouped, Art charged forward, leaping up in front of one warrior and bringing both of his legs at his opponent. “Dahama!” he cried. The warrior blocked with his hands, but he impact still left a dent on its arms, and it reeled back a bit.

Seeing a chance, Art darted after the warrior, his leg spinning through the air. “Qafa!” he cried, as his foot landed on the back of its neck, sending it up. He then brought his leg up, and slammed it down, sending the Shroomian’s head into the floor. “Ras!”

The warrior pressed it’s arms against the ground, then kicked up, landing two solid blows on D’Artagnan’s chest. “Ungh!” he gasped as he was knocked into the air. Several other warriors appeared above him, clasping their hands together and bringing them down on his back.

Art smashed into the floor of an arena, rubble flying away from him. The warriors quickly gathered around him, and as soon as they were close, the Majin acted, leaping into the air, and moving his leg incredibly fast. “Raj Circle!” he yelled, as he aimed multiple kicks for all of their heads.

The warriors darted back, the attack missing completely. Art used his hands, launching himself into the air once again, aiming his legs towards the warriors below. “Gotcha,” he said, “NASR!” He launched dozens of kicks, the blasts of air pressure striking at where the warriors lay.

But they weren’t there anymore.

“What the?” Art asked, then looked up frantically.

Several small Shroomians floated above him, cackling a bit fiendishly. They suddenly grew again, reaching their full height.

“Ah, cra-!” Art began, but they attacked, launching punch after punch at the Majin’s body, beating him brutally. He fell pathetically to the ground, landing almost softly, like a paper blown away by a high wind.

The warriors once more landed around him, in the shape of a circle, cracking their knuckles and cackling over yet another victory.

That was, until the Majin stood up.

Art grinned almost devilishly as blood dripped from his forehead, lifting his leg up into the air. “Alright,” he whispered, “let’s see how you stupid ladybugs like this!”

He slammed his leg into the floor, causing a massive crater to form. He then twisted his leg, and the pressure around it was released, creating massive winds that twisted around in the shape of a massive tornado, immediately catching the warriors. They let out small cries as they were lifted up into the air, then began spinning at incredible speeds!

“KHAMSIN!” the Majin cried as the warriors were blown away.

“Gaon (Allright)!” the female Shroomian said, slapping a small staff onto the ground of the cliff-area, “gao gaowaii (Let’s get started)!”

Sid and Stormy had been sat on their knees on either end of the area right below the small cliff, facing each other, both of them keeping their eyes glued to the ground. The female Shroomian produced a small slug-like creature, which she carefully set between them. “Gaoshinka gaowaii gao gao,” she explained.

“‘If the boy has any perverted thoughts, the slug will blush horribly’,” Stormy translated, “‘your session begins whenever you wish. You will have 13 tries.’”

“Allright,” Sid said, taking a deep breath, “I can do this, I can do this. Try one, go!” He lifted his eyes up, looking at the doctor.

The slug immediatley turned bright red, waving its head from side to side.

“Dammit!” Sid said, sulking in the corner, “okay, give me a second for try two!”

“So,” Knave panted as he darted through the flowers, narrowly avoiding explosions, bursts of poision gas, and sudden pitfalls, “orange explodes, green and purple poof up the mean gas, and blue makes holes!”

“Gao, gao!” Gopher said. He was riding on Knave’s shoulder, trying to find a safe spot through the valley, “gao’n gao! Gao!”

“I’ll answer later!” Knave said, as he leaped around a large blue flower that seemed to rise out of nowhere, “oh, look, the end’s in sight!” And indeed it was, for the cave that they were heading towards was now visible. The marimo lad put on a burst of speed, heading as fast as he could for the black hole in the wall.

At only three feet away from it, a massive blue-tinged paw exploded out, delivering a smashing blow to Knave’s chest, blowing him away.

(Author’s Note: For convenience, scenes featuring ONLY Shroomians will be translated into English.) “He’s doing well,” the elder remarked, absent-mindedly stroking his beard, “the human seems to be putting Gopher’s safety before his own.”

“But elder,” one of his guards protested, “Gopher is important to the economy of the village. If we allow him to leave-”

The elder raised up his hand to silence his underling. “Do not worry,” the elder said, “they must beat the Flower Beast first. Many men can get to this stage, but few can go past. Let us see how he does...”

On the other far side of the Isle of Flowers, a webbed foot stepped onto the shore. Immediately the flowers near it seemed to tremble and shrink away. Another followed, and then a full figure stepped onto the island.

Limey, a lemon shark Fishman, trembled a bit as he finally stepped back on the island that had been his home for many years, before his true colors had been revealed, and he had been exiled, left to drift on the outskirts. Unable to leave, unable to return, Limey had been stuck between two awful worlds.

And finally, through some fluke, by following some odd trail residues in the water, the Fishman had found his way back.

And he was going to raise some hell.

~End of Log~

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