Shaman King Fan Fiction / Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Yu-Gi-Oh!: The Shaman Tournament ❯ Shaman of Domino, Get Ready to RUMBLE! ( Chapter 9 )

Chapter 9- Shaman of Domino, Get Ready to RUMBLE!

 

Kevin cleaned up as much of the debris as possible, shuffling it away from the walk. The nameless swordsman just stood in front of a display that was still intact from the fight; the true Buster Sword laid behind a glass showcase untouched from the fight outside, preserved just as Harusame was in Tokyo's museum. Kevin just propped Buster Blader's uniform on the foot of its original display and stood next to the translucent spirit.

 

“So this was the Buster Sword?” Kevin asked.

 

“This IS the Buster Sword. This is the very sword that I used to foolishly battle Yin-Yang those ages ago.” Buster Blader answered. “I haven't left because I couldn't pass on with the regret of my mistakes.” Kevin listened with interest then turned to the sword. He pulled out the key Ishizu gave him, for when he'd decided to take his father's find as an heirloom, and unlocked the case.

 

“I just want to see this sword for myself.” Kevin eager himself as nothing was between him and the sword.

 

“Kevin, I don't think that's wise.” Buster Blader advised but Kevin ignored. His right hand gripped the old but durable leather; his left hand supported the blade to try and pick it up. After one try to budge it, he yelped and jumped back. A thin crease of blood formed inside his hand on his fingers. “Still sharp as ever.” Buster Blader commented, “The razor edge is needed to pierce the Dragon's hide. The sheer weight of the steel forged with it allows gravity to successfully cut as far as the Dragon's bone. This is the perfect weapon to slay a Dragon, and my powers increase with every Dragon I slay.”

 

Kevin cringed on his explanation, reminded of the cards Buster Blader slain. Buster Blader turned to see Kevin's grim memory. “I…I apologize for what happened earlier. I was blinded by my unforgivable mistakes in the past.”

 

“So... why are you a ghost? What business did you leave unfinished?" Kevin wondered.

 

“When I had a body to call my own, I fought the God of Dragons, Kevin. You cannot fight a god without something happening... He trapped my soul on this plane of existence, telling me that I would have to be willing to repent to my 'crimes' before I could pass to the afterlife. The god took it too soft on me... I've spent ages trying to find a way to touch this world again, to have another chance to find and slay the God of Dragons." Buster Blader told his history in a nutshell. “Perhaps by winning this Shaman Tournament I may have my chance to face him one more time, with your help. That is our deal: I'll help you prove to Miranda your skills to be a Shaman, and you help me fulfill my wishes as an earthbound spirit and finally crossover to the spirit world.”

 

Kevin was hesitant while trying to keep the slow flow of blood from his hand. “So that's it, huh? OK, I'll enter into this Shaman Tournament. I have my guardian ghost, just like Yoh and Miranda, and I have my weapon.” Kevin again tried to lift the sword, this time with both hands tight on the handle. He forced the Buster Sword from its display and held all of the blade's weight over his right shoulder, struggling to lock his knees in place and hold his balance. “Oh geez how could you carry this thing?!”

 

“I could if I had my body, plus you're only half my original size and mass.” Buster Blader answered as Kevin desperately tried to walk down the exhibit and out of the museum. “Perhaps you need some knowledge of my ways of war.” Kevin used his spare shoulder to push the glass door of the entrance and made it to the evening stars settling over Domino.

 

“The Buster Sword?!” A rickety voice cracked in the empty streets making both Kevin and Buster Blader jump in surprise. They turned to see a broad man with white hair thinning from his scalp; robes draped to his feet and called forth a high-collar. What's more is that his face was cover behind the full-face mask and black round shades, there was no telling his age. He approached Kevin quickly and watched him struggle with the Dragon Buster on his back.

 

“Yeah, and who…in the world…are you?” Kevin grunted under the blade's sheer weight.

 

“Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Raquiez. I am a shaman who followed the Dragon Buster's passage of time after Buster Blader's death. I gave that sword to Ishizu and hope that it wouldn't fall into the wrong hands and might even commit worse crimes.” Raquiez explained.

 

“So you're a shaman too?” Kevin asked, still supporting the entire sword on his back. “Is it just me or is this town full of shamans since Yoh showed up? Hey Buster Blader, do you know this guy?”

 

Buster Blader shook his head in somewhat confusion, “I can't say it isn't true, but I can't say it is true either. I've only remained dormant within the Buster Sword, it was Miranda's vibe that awakened me.”

 

“I see, a resting soul within. But who is this Miranda you speak of?” Raquiez wondered of curiosity. Kevin lowly growled.

 

“She thinks I can't handle being in the Shaman Tournament. I'm going to prove her wrong!” Kevin declared high-spiritedly, “Buster Blader is even offering me a deal with him.”

 

“Strange, you don't look like a properly-trained shaman.”

 

“Well…yeah, I'm not really a shaman.” Kevin's tone of voice quieted out of regret.

 

“I hope this doesn't intrude on the agreement you and Buster Blader have. But I just might be able to help you at least know the basics of a shaman.” Raquiez insisted, “Uniting your thoughts and emotions as one may take a while, but if you're willing to undergo my training, I'll be more than happy to induct you into the Shaman Tournament.”

 

“You'll do that?” Buster Blader and Kevin asked in unison, but one with concern and the other enthusiastic.

 

Raquiez simply nodded. “Come, we'll find a more suitable location to train than the streets.”

 

*****

 

Harlan stood in the midst of darkness, lit only by torches scattered across eye-level. Some stood against columns; others lit under stone statues of creatures, real and mythical. He's been used to it by now, next to him was the wraith that would have disappeared in the low visibility but instead glowed with the aura of the prey it hunted down earlier that night.

 

“Well you seem happy…” Harlan spat as the wraith glided on air in a direction and he followed. The infinity of darkness seemed to end when they reach a spot where the torches were in a cluster. Beyond Harlan and the wraith was a large manifestation of mana inside one's body, so powerful that the physical size holding it can only represent a fraction of its overall amount. By the torchlight, only the dark red shins, large black sandals fitting beneath, and hands with fingers the same width as Harlan's head were visible; this entity preferred to remain hidden.

 

“Necros! You've returned. Did you get your fill of tonight?” The mana-giant asked in a bellow that seemed to make the torches flicker. The wraith few around him once and found its spot near what could have seen as his left shoulder. The aura from the wraith showed more of the giant: a black horn of hair and a red eye flashed with accomplishment over a fiendish grin that can send anyone in shivers.

 

Harlan reported, “Master, you only sent him for one soul, the soul of Kikaita Guinaldo. But it got three.”

 

“Three? No wonder Necros is producing a healthy glow. And such power, it couldn't have come from Kikaita and those other two souls alone can, it?” He wondered and looked to his wraith. Necros produced two blue spheres of blinding light and a white dimly lit sphere for a brief moment and absorbed them back into its shrouds. The wraith's owner tried to regain his nocturnal focus with a grin wider than ever. “Whatever those souls were, such impressive power lies within them. But they're Zodiac souls?”

 

“You did tell it to go after Zodiac souls, and it was even aiming for this one girl while it was taking Kikaita.” Harlan reported further, gaining his Master's utmost attention. The torches behind him flared up in light to reveal a mirror set behind his throne. Daggers, acting as hooks, punctured a body's upper arms. A mess of hair covered most of the face; dried blood remained on the body from hand to foot, symbolizing its massacre from long ago. Evident a female body decorated the back of his throne; yet the years have done nothing to decay it - it has remained intact for nearly a decade.

 

“Necros hasn't made a mistake yet. It absorbed Zodiac souls for over one thousand years, and you're telling me it's missed one?” His revealed eye narrowed in a lethal line on his face and a scowl to match. “This girl…resembled much like Kikaita, didn't she?” Necros nodded. Its Master's rage coursed through his body as the grip he had on one of the arms of his throne crumbled under his fingers. Sharp pieces of wood fell next to his foot but the iron head remained, crushed by his immense strength.

 

Harlan stepped back slightly but kept to attendance. “If she is a Zodiac, should I go kill her?”

 

“No…” was the Master's simple reply. “If she is a Zodiac, spared for nine years after Kikaita, there's no telling what powers Yin-Yang can do to a minority. What is this girl's name?”

“Her name is Miranda, Master.” Harlan replied without hesitation. “She has an Oracle Pager, she's in the Shaman Tournament.”

 

His anger subsided momentarily. “The Shaman Tournament, eh? Hmph she'll never survive the rounds.” Just then a light ping sounded and the mirror lost Kikaita's dead body as an image. “Uther, report.”

 

*****

 

Kalim's spirit control broke in the explosion of white lightning. His body hung in the air without his familiars giving him a soft way down, only for a moment. The next second a white metal claw rammed into his stomach: a jump kick set by Seto Kaiba. This in the gut, Kaiba swung his leg down, slamming Kalim to the ground and practically winding him. His familiars of the Northwestern Territories surrounded him and hoped that their shaman was OK.

 

Kaiba landed softly with full armor that was never touched in the fight. “Looks like I've landed my hit. Therefore I'm qualified for this Shaman Tournament.” Kaiba said and his armor detached, returning to the crystal pendant: White Dragon's Tear.

 

Kalim almost had his wind back and tried to sit up, an arm holding his stomach. “Yeah…you qualify.” Kalim gasped and held out a white Oracle Pager to Kaiba. “This is proof…that you've made it…to the next round… Next you have a match…of three fights…best two-out-of-three…”

 

“Whatever, I don't need some sort of trinket to prove that I've passed this round.” Kaiba hissed.

 

“But you do… The Oracle Pager…will give you information…on who you face…when…and where…” Kalim still wheezed from the fight. He staggered to his feet while holding Kaiba's prize of the fight.

 

Kaiba approached Kalim and took the Pager. “So this will tell me who my opponent is?”

 

“At the Will of the Great Spirit, yes. There's no guarantee you'll be facing Yugi in this match, but once you proceed, the rest will be explained from there.” Kalim finally got his breath back and began to leave the premises. “Good luck Kaiba, take care.”

 

*****

 

In the basement of an apartment building, on the inner edge of a chalked circle, a wounded chicken flopped about helplessly. It kept striking an invisible barrier, making all its struggles nothing more than a means of throwing blood around the floor. A moment later, one well-aimed knife toss ended its misery.

As the slain fowl collapsed, its killer set his hands over it and recited, "Z ds fs xrvqqkmdk v mkc usk. Maltorik, dhvmf ak jsth gfhkmdfr. Gkvg frk xzhxqk."

Montoya closed his eyes, hands automatically going into the various gestures of the Art of Closing the Gate; once it was done, his eyes opened, and he turned to where Yaril sat on a bench. "That was disturbing, wasn't it?" he asked, and the caller demon just nodded. The demon summoner took a washcloth out of a nearby bowl of water, cleaning some blood from his chest as he continued, "Still, it is wise to have as many of the minor demon lords on my side as I can. That was the last one I know... and if nothing else, at least we have dinner tonight." He smiled, picking up the chicken's remains.

Setting the chicken on a table, Montoya took another washcloth and knelt, scrubbing the blood off the basement floor. Yaril stopped in mid-flight and looked up at his master, head tilted. Pausing in his work, Montoya replied to the silent question, "Because if I didn't clean up the blood, I'd get evicted. It was hard enough finding an apartment building with a usable basement in the first place." Another silent message from Yaril led to Montoya's reply of, "If I did this in my apartment I'd lose my security deposit." Satisfied, the small demon fluttered to the washing machine, taking out a clean shirt for his master.

Watching Yaril, Montoya whispered to himself, "All is ready now. Miranda, I hope you are prepared, for I cannot show you any mercy."

From the top of the stairs, a voice yelled, "Montoya! You done with the basement yet? I got laundry to do!"

Jumping to his feet, Montoya yelled back, "The basement's all yours, Morimino-sama!"

 

*****

 

Miranda kept her head low and remained silent the way back to her home, seemingly empty since her relative spirits were taken away right before her eyes. Yami Marik paced behind her, shouldering the responsibility to protect someone. Being recreated of one's anger and hatred, he saw it impossible to keep Miranda safe if Harlan were to show up again. However he couldn't let Kikaita down; Miranda's bitter bloodline is still alive, her father's side that took everything away from her since she lost him. How could Ed leave after Battle City, after his niece was locked in the Shadow Realm, was all beyond the demented spirit.

 

In Yami Marik's recall, Ed and Kikaita begged, begged, for their niece to be locked away; his glance to Miranda back there was in vain - she was screaming enraged in silence. Before that final fight was over, he took her with him and set her off to the side where fewer spirits wandered the Shadow Realm's torturous nightmare. Every so often Yami Marik still sees the family's historic arguments and disorientation continue to slowly consume who was once Miranda's cousin.

 

Yami Marik often visited Miranda's old memories before her parents' death. He saw Miranda at a young age, content with her cousin that was only slightly older than her. Their happiness continued until just a few years ago. Miranda's cousin became corrupted, seeing no evil in the evil that was evidently there. It struck Yami Marik for the first time: a far worse torture in the Shadow Realm existed in the mortal plane, family betrayal.

 

He soon came to realize the darkness Miranda tasted but didn't fully inherit from her father's side. Ed had sent Miranda with Kikaita all those years ago to protect Miranda from the ancestral hatred. In that family, Ed has tried to stop the rivalries but failed: Miranda's hatred and isolation still ruled her life as a human being.

 

He never had a family. He was only recreated by the hatred of Marik's own family and their traditions. He couldn't call Ishizu his sister nor Odion even an adopted brother. He still had his own grudge for being trapped in Marik's vessel himself. Yami Marik had what he wanted now: Free from Marik's body, and a chance to plunge the world into the Darkness he desired for so long. It now all seemed distant from him.

 

Yami Marik swallowed dryly and came closer to Miranda as a spirit. She didn't seem to notice, neither did Rai - both were numb of the outside world ever since the Zodiac spirits were taken. Fed up of the silence he would be used to, if he was in the Shadow Realm, he called to Miranda in his haunting voice, “Do you think it's time to stop moping around and start finding a way to get them back?”

 

Miranda and Rai both stopped and turned to him, Rai making the reply to his question. That wraith is a powerful monster - we can't defeat it now. Not at the level we're at.

 

“Then we increase our level you half-wit fox demon. Look at the both of you, you're letting your emotions cloud you of your goals. Miranda, you now have an ambition to work for in this Shaman Tournament.” Yami Marik snapped back. “That wraith belongs to a shaman and there's no doubt that ghost, its shaman, or its flunkies like Harlan will show up again.” Miranda stood silently through his briefing, but she absorbed his words in the process. Her eyes lost the tears but gained the fire of determination. This Death will be coming for her, it has come to all the Zodiacs within the millennium, and she'd see this Death in the face before she fell by her belittled experience.

 

“Show me how to utilize an Egyptian God Monster…” Miranda said and pulled The Winged Dragon of Ra from her deck. “Ra is the Sun God, rising for a new day. I will rise for a new hope with your help, Rai and Yami Marik… just tell me how to bring Ra to full potential in Over Soul.” Rai and Yami Marik both reacted to Miranda. Her words were stale of emotion outside, but she has swallowed her despair and brought it around as determination.

 

Yami Marik grinned - not the sinister grin he wore during the previous tournament, but a grin of admiration. However he knew Miranda's numbed emotions wouldn't leave her for long, and too strong to keep her focus in the fights ahead, especially against Montoya. “We'll begin immediately. By the fight, Ra will come to your call. I doubt Yin-Yang will be enough for this bout.”

 

*****

 

Yugi watched as Anna dragged Yoh out of the game shop after she called for a night at a nearby hotel, Manta just shuffling behind them. After the doors closed, Yami gave way to his spirit form and watched with interest of Yugi's Oracle Pager. “I hope we know what we're getting into, Yugi. Ironac said there's powerful shaman about.” Yami advised.

 

“I know aibou, but if we don't win the tournament, that's OK. We just need to make sure the title doesn't fall into the wrong hands, Anna and Yoh seemed serious about that.” Yugi answered. “So this Oracle Pager's supposed to tell us the date, time, and opponent. Best two-out-of-three…” Yugi recalled the circumstances of the next round. “I wonder who are first opponent is…”

 

Both wondered in silence for a few moments before a chiming echoed in the game shop. Yugi jumped from surprise and found it was his Oracle Pager ringing. “It's my first match!” Yugi exclaimed. Yami peeked over Yugi's shoulder to see what the Oracle Pager said.

 

“First match is less than two weeks from now at Domino Park. Our opponent is Gideon Baladine…” Yami browsed.

 

“Gideon Baladine…this guy's supposed to be in Domino? How come I've never seen him before?” Yugi wondered.

 

*****

 

The only light in Room 212 of the small hotel came from a lamp in the corner. Next to the bed, a man in white overalls bent over a wooden arm, working out a scratch in it with a piece of sandpaper. "There, now," he cooed to the arm, hefting it in his hand to test the weight. "That will work just fine."

Suddenly, a series of beeps broke his concentration. Grabbing the Oracle Pager off the bed, he looked at it. Turning to a trunk against one wall, he said, "It seems they've picked my first opponent, Antoni. Let's give it a look, shall we?"

From the trunk, a ghostly pair of hands rose and snapped their fingers, before floating to the man's shoulders. They settled there, pointing in the direction of the Oracle Pager.

A grin flashed over the man's face as he read, “The first fight of the qualifying round will be in Domino Park, in a week from today. Your opponent will be Yugi Motou.” Setting the pager down, he cracked his knuckles. "Well, well. Who knew the King of Games would be in this tournament, Antoni? I know I didn't..."

 

Picking up the arm, the man opened the trunk and set it in, and then withdrew a marionette. This he slid into place on one hand. "One more test run is in order, wouldn't you say, Antoni?" The ghostly hands said nothing. "Antoni, Spirit Form! Into the marionette!"

The hands vanished, replaced by a white flame that shot into the marionette. It shook on its strings, burning with an odd fire. The man laughed, raising one hand to the ceiling. "Perfect! Oh, what the King of Games will think when he has to face Gideon Baladine, the master of puppets!"

The trunk shook. Gideon spun on one heel and shot it a foul glance. "You wait until you're ordered!"

 

*****

 

It has only been four hours into the night, a car dealership not far from Domino Park had a large digital clock that read 12:04am. Kevin paced himself to move around the Buster Sword, his hands already turning raw from the worn leather grip. Buster Blader watched distantly as Kevin worked himself to comfortably maneuver the sword to his favor. Farther away Raquiez observed Kevin as his muscles strained over the weight.

 

Raquiez nodded, satisfied of Kevin's determination and improvement. “I believe you've done what you can for tonight, Hunter.” Raquiez said. Kevin just had the Buster Sword at a comfortable position on his shoulder, balanced right on his collarbone, as it's the only way to hold a broadsword when not in fight. Raquiez and Buster Blader approached the growing shaman; Kevin has already proven potential but has yet to feel the power of Spirit Control.

 

Kevin's breath returned to normal while supporting the Buster Sword on his right shoulder. All three of them seemed satisfied of the progress to an extent. “I can't stop now, Buster Blader hasn't done what he was supposed to do as a ghost.” Kevin complained.

 

“You mean Spirit Control.” Raquiez defined, “Kevin, you must feel how to use Buster Blader's weapon before you become one with the nameless swordsman. Though I don't think it would hurt for you to attempt a Spirit Control. You must focus on the Buster Sword as if it was a hollow vessel, like an empty cup.” He instructed. Kevin jumped to his words quickly and began hard concentration on the sword. Raquiez continued his advice, “You mustn't focus to hard. You have an excellent shamanic focus but it has its drawbacks. Put in too much focus and the medium of Spirit Control will feel brittle and collapse in on itself; focus too little and your spirit cannot possess the medium comfortably. It's all in the matter of how much mana you use and how to use it.” Kevin hesitated for a moment to get on Raquiez's advice.

 

Kevin nodded and returned concentration. Slowly the Buster Sword began to lift its own weight off his shoulder. In two minutes, Kevin could hold the Buster Sword in the same pose as Buster Blader on his card: The broadsword's hilt set right on top of Kevin's right hand, his left hand firm under his right's grip.

 

Raquiez's satisfaction or disappointment couldn't be seen behind the mask, he just stood there motionless, watching Kevin's quickly improving his stature. Buster Blader saw it ready for Spirit Control and took form. His muscular translucent body faded from sight and his spirit aura merged with the Buster Sword. Kevin only flinched as Buster Blader found settlement in the sword. A moment later and Kevin made his first swing. Unlike him to not make it a forceful blow of dry-fire, Kevin let the sword swing once from his arm like a clock pendulum. The Buster Sword took one full swipe and returned position on his shoulder, bearing a grin of confidence.

 

“Yes! This sword feels as light as a feather!” Kevin cheered, “This Spirit Control is awesome!”

 

“You've only found the sealed box of potential, Hunter. Before your first shaman fight you must be immune to the backfires of carrying a heavy weapon for battle.” Raquiez's further advice settled the eager Kevin. “Now I have a gift for you.” Raquiez dug into one of his pockets and held in his wrinkled knuckles of his fingers an ill green Oracle Pager, careful to leave only from his wrist out visible from his cloaks.

 

“An Oracle Pager? But how?” Kevin questioned in shock, “I'd have to fight one of those officials before I'd get that, wouldn't I?” Raquiez shook his head.

 

“Kevin, I have battled one of the Patch Tribe Shaman Tournament Officials, but I fear that was my last bout as a shaman. If I leave one Oracle Pager out, there will be an odd number of participants in the tournament.” Raquiez explain, “This old man can't possibly take on this contender and survive. That is why I'm giving my Oracle Pager to you, I have confidence.” Kevin lifted the Pager from Raquiez's hand and held it in his own. His fingers wrapped the wireless device as the first fight appeared in the marquee.