Grand Voyage- Log 42

Log 42: The Three Trials Part 8
“Lucky bastard,” Art grunted as he, assisted by several Shroomian doctors, wrapped bandages and padding around a swollen leg, “so you’re the only one who didn’t have to fight?”

“Yep,” Sid sighed, popping a dango stick into his mouth, “though at least you didn’t lose your dignity.”

“Christ, man,” Art remarked, “you couldn’t keep your thoughts off... those sort of things for FIVE minutes?”

“Hey, it’s harder than you think,” Sid replied, “you know how Stormy-chwan’s top is kinda low cut....”

“Nope!” Art raised his hand in a ‘stop’ gesture, “we are NOT having this discussion. Not now, probably not ever.”

“Ah, come on,” Sid teased, “you mean to tell me that you’ve NEVER had feelings for a woman.”

“Hmph,” Art muttered, puckering his face a bit, “that’s none of your business.”

“Ah,” Sid acknowledged, pulling the dango stick out of his mouth for a minute, “I see how it is.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m telling you I’m his doctor,” Stormy barked at one of the Shroomian guards who had set up shop right outside the door to the village hospital, “so let me in already!”

“Gao’n gao,” the soldier attempted to explain.

“I can’t understand what you’re saying! You’re not my counterpart or-”

The female warrior ran up, panting slightly and quickly belting out a string of “Gao”s and the like. Stormy raised an eyebrow, turning to face her counterpart.

“That still doesn’t explain why I can’t go treat him,” she remarked.

“Gao gaowaii gao.”

“Well I’d learn how to treat those kinds of wounds if you let me in!”

The female Shroomian pondered, the nodded to the guard at the gate, who reluctantly opened the door. Stormy bolted in, already producing her medical bag.

As soon as she entered it, the female warrior stepped up, quickly and quietly locking the door behind her....

A small group of warriors stood on the outskirts of the village, already having entered their human-sized forms, preparing for battle. Unlike the ones who had gone toe-to-toe with D’Artagnan, they carried weapons, specifically stone swords and shields.

Their leader stood slightly in front of them all, scanning the horizon, his eyes narrowed. “No sign of him yet....” the leader murmured, straining his vision for the hopes of even a GLIMPSE of their target.

Suddenly, there was an explosion of blood on the leader’s shoulder, as what felt like a bullet plowed into it! The leader let out a yell and stepped back, as finally, a figure appeared on the horizon: a lemon shark Fishman, charging at incredible speds towards them.

“Prepare for combat!” the leader gasped, flexing his muscles quickly before lunging at the Fishman, who bared his teeth and attacked as well.

Another group of stupid warriors. When would they learn that they could not oppose him? Despite this, Limey found himself grinning savagely as one of them approached. It HAD been quite awhile since he had sparred with one of them...

The warrior’s fist flew through the air, heading towards the fishman’s head. He quickly opened his mouth, allowing the fist to enter, then snapped his jaw shut, his sharp teeth tearing into the Shroomian’s flesh. As the warrior howled and struggled to pull his hand away, Limey gripped his arm, then, beginning to laugh, ripped it from its socket.

The warrior toppled backward, and Limey quickly lifted up his hand, allowing the sweat from his running to drip into a bubble shape. He then whipped his hand through the air, sending the water drop blasting through the warrior’s head! He dropped like a stone, dead.

Right at that second, the other’s appeared, swinging their blades towards him!

“Hm?” Art asked, raising an eyebrow as a large group of Shroomian warriors dashed past him and Sid, heading towards the outskirts, “what’s going on?”

“I have no idea,” Sid replied, obviously bored, as he sat down on the floor, still gnawing on the dango stick, “some sort of exercise or something?”

“I dunno....” Art answered, still staring after them, “something’s definitely up.”

“Get him!” one of the warriors cried, swinging his blade at Limey with as much strength as he could muster. The Fishman let out a small growl, grinning in triumph as he easily ducked beneath the blade, his fist shooting up and impaling the warrior in the stomach!

“Graghh...” the warrior groaned, then swung his shield down, in a desperate attempt to strike at the Fishman. He only grinned as the shield broke on his forehead, then raised his other hand, the scales there starting to tighten and push out. His hand flew downward, beheading the Shroomian.

“DAMMIT!” the others yelled, charging him all at once. Still grinning maniacally, Limey swung his sharp hand on his chest, cutting it and releasing blood. He then allowed his scales to return to normal, swinging his hands across the area, as the blood was yanked from it’s position and entering a bubble-formation on the edges of his hands.

Letting out a crow of triumph, Limey swung his hands through the air, sending thousands of bloody bullets striking the warriors, tearing them to pieces. They dropped silently to the ground, dead.

Still too weak. STILL too weak. How long had he been gone, for the warriors whom he once enjoyed to spar against lose so much strength?! This was ridiculous, totally ridiculous. He wouldn’t stand for it!

He’d give them all hell.

~End of Log~

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