Lord of Chaos

Disclaimer: I do not own Ranma 1/2 or Campione, despite the law suits I filed through Dewey, Cheetum and Howe. Ah well, that's the way the cookie crumbles.

Chapter 3

"What is this?" A deep voice rumbled slowly, as if just awakening from a deep slumber, as the owner of the voice drew a rattling breath for the first time in many a century.

In the deep cavern, the slow dripping of water was heard as it dropped from the great stalactites over head.

Scritch. Scritch.

The sharp and piercing sound of powerful claws or talons shredding ancient stone echoed in the dank and dark chamber as the owner slowly and ungainly began to heave themselves upright, their mind still confused and disoriented.

"What is this disturbance that I feel?" The voice went on, looking around the pitch blackness if the underground cave, the owner's eyes unaffected by the lack of light.

A long fingered hand reached out, gently extending a slightly crooked finger, making it gently pluck something, unseen and invisible.

Pling!

A harmonic song rang out in the cave, like the string of a harp being plucked, the shimmering sound bouncing off if the engaging walls, the endless echoes rippling through the dark vaulted cavern. The song these echoes created was a masterpiece, beyond anything that the like of the mortals Beethoven or Bach could have even imagined.

Simple, yet profound. Thunderous, yet stately. The progression of years could clearly be heard, sounds played in the order of events. The sound of wardrums was followed by the soft tones of doves cooing, representing the peace afterward. A grand march was followed by the heavy tones of a church bell, solemn and sorrowful.

These sounds created a cacophony of sound wove a tale without words, a painting without colour.

A tapestry of fate.

But to the maestro of the performance, there was something else, something that they did not like. A discordance, a note out of place, throwing off the rest of the song.

Purple eyes widened, snapping open completely, before narrowing into mere slits. Grasping hands tore furrows in the stone at their feet, their body now fully awoken.

They were not pleased at what they had just learned.

"Another?" The voice growled, realisation and anger and hatred filling their voice, raw venomous enmity staining their tone, "are there not enough of their foul kind already soiling the earth with their existence?"

The being snarled it's venom, vitriol dripping from their lips. It hated those abominations, those accursed beings. They evaded it's grasp, again and again, making the world around them it's plaything instead of bowing to the laws of the world. Laws that it had personally instated long ago, when it's power was heralded as supreme.

"I will not permit this!" it hissed to itself, "six of those mongrels was enough. A Seventh?!"

The ancient being screeched it's fury, voicing it's anger at the world and the damned spawn of that whore, Pandora. The shadows and darkness seemed to writhe beneath the force of the screaming entity, as if cringing back from something that could destroy them with the ease of plucking a ripe apple from a tree.

"Come, my children!" The voice roared/shrilled/screeched the cavern walls trembling beneath the force of the voice. "Let us hunt together!"

In the cavern, the being suddenly saw millions of eyes snap open. Small clustered ones on the cavern's roof, all a glossy black that never the less shined like dim stars, making the ceiling look like the night sky veiled in light cloud, dulling the twinkling of those stars beyond, their number beyond counting. The being smiled as it heard the scuttling of insectile legs delicately scraping the stone above. At least those were awake.

The being looked down into the waters of the on the floor of the cavern, a small enclosed lake on which on only a single island rose above the dark waters. An island it had rested on for centuries.

Purple eyes smiled eerily at the light green lights, a single one of them far larger than any single one attributed to the glossy black stars above, in groups of two, looking back at it, a low rumbling roar of a growl emitting from the throat of which those green eyes belonged. Nor were those green lights the only ones, more glowing green slitted eyes began to emerge from the dark aquatic depths, the reptilian beasts heeding the call of their Mother.

The purple eyed lady smiled with malice, "To the Hunt!" She roared, an invisible force, of indomitable power, bursting from her, making the beasts that surrounded give their own war cries. The aquatic denizens roaring hollowly as the insectile beings screeched and shrilled.

The Mother smiled to herself. Whoever this new Campione was, she would ensure that their days were numbered.

She had decided their fate, after all.

And none escape the Weaver of Fate.

None.

"A greater mistake than marrying that putrescent pile of pus I have not done," Nodoka sneered in disgust as she glared momentarily at the still comatose and bruised panda form of her ex-husband, where he was tied up securely and watched like a hawk by several of the HCC's warrior unit, members of the Sayanomiya clan, before going back to rifling through the baggage and ill-gotten gains of the thieving bastard, looking for a journal or other such things.

Her brother snorted in agreement from where he sat at the table of the Tendo's, sipping from the delightful tea that the eldest daughter of Tendo clan had thoughtfully provided, "and a greater mistake for not seeing through his deception until it was too late is mine." He responded quietly, obviously trying to stop her from blaming herself.

She wasn't really interested in platitudes at the moment.

"Who the hell are you people?!" The middle Tendo daughter, Nabiki if Nodoka remembered correctly, shouted in confusion and frustration from where she also sat, practically ordered to do so by the red-headed mother with a sword at her throat.

"Someone you should have met long before now," Kenshin said dryly, his golden eyes looking at the young lady in slight annoyance.

"That tells me nothing," the teen responded coldly, drawing herself up. It was obvious to all that this was a girl that was use to being in charge, pulling the strings of others. The fact that they had run roughshod over her in their haste to apprehend and discover the information of Genma Saotome had seemed to anger the girl.

And hell hath no greater wrath than that of a woman scorned.

Nodoka ignored the voices of her brother and the middle Tendo, focused on rifling through the bag. She could feel something on the edge of her senses, like something was there yet not. It was an annoying feeling to her mystical senses.

"Genma Saotome is a man with many skeletons in his closet," Kenshin explained, a veil of disgust and hatred for the human tub of lard crossing his handsome features, "and he had done our clan a great wrong many years ago with his actions. We are seeking to simply rectify this and get our pound of flesh from his worthless hide."

"Oh my," the gentle voice of the eldest Tendo sister and housewife, Kasumi, said in a small amount of shock, as if disbelieving the clan head's words, "surely Uncle Saotome is not that bad." Her nose wrinkled slightly, "even if he is a lazy gluttonous panda."

"He took a tormented six year old child from his bed in the dead of night," her brother said coldly, wrath and anger freezing the air as he let his spirit run, making the air become filled with dread and fear and terror, "against the wishes of the mother, his own wife no less, and has since been putting said child through torture disguised as 'training', mentally and physically, for the past decade, all the while using the child as collateral for whatever deals he makes." The air was like the Arctic, frozen and still and dark, growing more terrible with every word that left his mouth, his face a mixture of utter disgust and raw seething hatred while still remaining cold as ice, making the two girls want to flinch backward in fear, "and this is only one of his many crimes, and that alone would have me calling for his death. The fact that the child was his own son, and my nephew, just makes me want it all the more."

He grinned slightly at the trembling two daughters of Soun Tendo, the slash of his mouth showing his ill humour despite the grin.

"I think I am justified in calling the fat pig exactly what he is, don't you?"

Nodoka ignored the byplay between the occupants of the house and her brother, focusing on a small fold in the cloth of the bag. That strange feeling, of existence and yet non-existence, was focused there, tugging at her senses and yet the small spells she used indicated that there was no magic in place there.

She frowned slightly in annoyance. Ki. Of the course the bastard would use such tricks.

The relationship between Ki and Magic was complex. There was a link between them but they worked under different rules.

Magic, in essence, was the power of the mind and spirit overcoming reality, of dreams made real, of the moon and Yin, and such connotations were a large reason for the balance of power to lean towards Witches, Hime-Mikos and other female practitioners. A mage pit themselves against the laws of the material world, struggling against them like a salmon swimming against the raging river, in order to bring about an affect, also known as a spell. One had to have a strength of will, to believe it was possible, in order to be able to perform such feats. Spell Words acted as a focus for the mage's intent, making it easier to believe that spell is possible, while it also opened a metaphysical gate into the Realm of Immortality, drawing on the power of the Gods that those specific Spell Words were connected to, like a password for a computer terminal, to give the spell shape in the material world. Without that metaphysical connection, the best a mage could do would be to enhance their own body in some manner due to the inherent authority that one had over themselves in the form of free will and their own life.

Ki, on the other hand, was not the breaking of laws, but rather the bending of them, empowering them and allowing the laws of the natural world to strengthen the Ki Arts that the practitioner performed. Drawing on the laws of the universe, understanding them, Ki adepts are then able recreate natural phenomenon in otherwise impossible circumstances, such was their knowledge, unconscious or not, of the natural order by substituting and using their own power as a catalyst. This is derived from the energy of life, the Sun, and Yang and is further more directly linked to the physical capabilities of the user as the physical realm is the base Truth of the material world. Following the laws of physics, if one object is stronger than the other, then it is the second object that receives the damage. Thus, if one is strong in body, then they are strong in Ki and furthermore have a stronger tie to the material world and a stronger dominion over it, thus making it a male dominated area, for the most part, due to the gender's on average more durable physical capabilities. However, few are able to obtain this strength, far fewer than the number of mages that exist, especially in this Digital Age, where the old Arts had begun to die out, due to the intense training and effort required to reach even the smallest step into the Art.

Mind and body, light and darkness, positive and negative. Ki and Magic were two halves of the same coin, an ever present duality.

A perfect balance.

However, it was because on this balance, the necessity for it, that it made things difficult for Nodoka to access this Ki influenced area and what no doubt was hidden within.

Ki and Magic were never meant to mix together.

At least not on a mortal level.

Oh, they could both be present in a vessel at the same time, and indeed they always are, but one was always more dominant than the other in the vessel, whether it be an object or a living being.

Nodoka was an example of this.

Despite being female and from an established line of magi, she had been born with a low amount of magic, which had been a slight disappointment to her family and Clan, but her Ki reserves had shown promise, even at that youthful age. This was the secret that allowed her to challenge, and defeat, the other mages in the HCC. Covering herself and her chosen weapon in a thin aura of Ki, she had been able to mitigate, if not outright negate, the spells of her opponents up to a certain amount of strength. Her Ki aura filled the material world with authority, making it reject that which was breaking it's laws, in this case her opponents' spells.

She still giggled to herself when she remembered the first she had managed to 'cut' one of her opponents spells. The face that the pompous prick made had been hilarious.

She had also been able to use the spells in her repertoire, her ongoing mastery of Ki not eliminating her from using magic, which had been a great boon. Few were those who used both Ki and Magic, and those known to do so had a great deal of respect granted to them.

However, no one was foolish enough to try and mix these two powers together, not in the modern era. Not after what had happened in the ancient past.

Nodoka frowned heavily again as she observed the small Ki field. At a guess, she was suspecting it to be a Ki-fold. A very advanced Ki technique that altered the spatial dimensions of a certain area, like making a pocket able to contain more than it should by all rights do so. They also generally only responded to the Ki of their creator, which she was betting was that obese panda that she called an ex-husband.

She knew he was moron, idiot, fool, ignoramus and various other instilling descriptions of his mental capabilities, but she also, reluctantly, acknowledged his skill in Ki manipulation.

Now how to get around it?

She couldn't simply flood it with her own Ki. It would make it unstable and destroy itself, along with the contents, in a ball of Ki flame.

Intricate Ki manipulation in order to worm her way through the 'cracks' in the 'seal' would be pointless. Genma was more skilled than her in that area, much to her disgusted chagrin. And she doubted that he would be willing to give the contents of it to her if he woke up.

That left magic, an area she was limited in and was opposed to Ki.

Interactions between Ki and Magic, outside of a person of object, were, simply put, explosive.

Her ability to negate spells with her Ki was due to her own diligent practice and her Ki being stronger than her opponents magic in contention. When she met with the stronger spells, her defence was not wholly effective and often terminated in a rather powerful explosion if not directed in the proper manner.

When unfocused Ki and Magic met, both powers, for some reason, became agitated, mixing chaotically and emitted power that was stronger than the sum of the parts before violently exploding in blast of concussive force and power, the light from the collision so bright as to cause someone to go blind if they weren't careful. Mixing the two powers inside if the body yielded the same results...in a more bloody and permanent manner.

It went without saying that Nodoka had no desire to blow herself, others or the information no doubt within the Ki pocket, up.

So she would have to be careful. The appropriate application of power was required.

Slowly she extended a finger, one that seemed to subtly glow with a bluish white light, like soft lightning, towards the wrinkle in the pack.

What she was doing now was the reverse of her tactics against mages, to a degree. Instead of using Ki, the power of the material realm, to restore the world to Order, thus negating the magical forces of Chaos through a brute force method, she would instead carefully create a magical construct of the exact equivalent in power to the Ki pocket. This would, in turn, create a momentary balance which would then negate both the construct and the Ki pocket in a non-explosive manner, letting the contents of the Ki pocket be ejected, unharmed.

It wasn't a technique she used too often, the concentration required for the feat was not practical in battle, at least not for her, nor did she face many Ki users.

But she was glad to know it and be able to use it now.

Her finger pressed gently against the wrinkled fold, making it also glow slightly, the light intensifying slightly as she ran her finger over the affected portion of cloth, outlining it, leaving a border of glowing magical mist, that swiftly filled in the interior of the outline, hovering slightly above the fabric of the bag.

Her eyes never left the mist as it began to react.

Beneath the blue-white mist, a darker light began to appear, throwing sparks of itself off of the bag. The light was an unsettling dark purple and, to Nodoka, gave off the feeling of greed and hunger, like it would devour everything in it's path.

A more perfect description of the bastard Genma she didn't know.

Soundlessly, the two energies clashed, each of them dissipating, weakening, lessening, with each attempt to struggle, slowly withering away in their pointless tussle. The fabric of the bag twitched and shifted momentarily before the energies finally consumed each other with a small flash, revealing an old, battered and leather bound book resting on the wrinkle of cloth, along with a small packet of what looked to be crushed herbs, a series of bamboo and metallic acupuncture needles, a vial of a black liquid and a very weathered scroll that, to her scholarly eye, looked to be only a foot long if unrolled, with a broken red wax seal that had a crest that was unfamiliar to her.

Even without looking further into this deplorable situation, it was clear that the panda man had something planned, and it boded ill for the target of said plan.

Nodoka exhaled slowly but heavily. It had taken a fair bit of her available magical power and a horrendous amount of concentration to perform that little trick. At that very moment, her head was throbbing like a church bell, an ache that was centred directly behind her eyes, as the effort caught up with her, magic extracting it's price from it's wielder.

But she had done it.

Gently, she opened the journal to it's first page, yellowed with age and blotted here and there with ink, untidy scrawl that she was familiar with created a heading at the top of the page.

Operation: Curse Destruction by Genma Saotome

She felt a chill run through her at those words, as if they heralded the dread beginning of something heinous and despicable. Instinctively, she knew that if she read this journal, cover to cover, she would know what her child, her precious and only child, had truly been through, and the reasons why.

But she also knew that her world view would be turned on it's head if she did so and her heart would filled with the sickness of sorrow and rage.

The question she asked herself: Did she dare to read of the horrors of the man called Saotome? Horrors that were performed on her son?

She gently closed the journal. She would decide at a later time. She had no desire to take ill in another's home

"I've got it," she said to her brother with a slight nod. Inwardly, she thanked the heaven's above for Genma's habit of writing everything down, otherwise they would have had to resort to more...extreme methods of obtaining information from the fat pig.

Though she was slightly sad at the loss of the chance of using him as a training dummy for her sword strikes. She thought it would have been rather cathartic to watch him bleed from various orifices. Natural and not.

"Good," her clan head said sharply, his golden eyes narrowed in a vicious satisfaction, "then the only we need from him...are his wails of despair."

Nodoka felt her own lips twist into a smile of sadistic pleasure. Genma's awaiting fate had been planned by the clan since the first month of his abduction of her son had passed. And many were the members of the clan who wanted the fat bastard's hide mounted on their wall for his crimes against them.

Ranma had been a popular child amongst the clan, and of the ruling line, even with his lack of magical capability. Many were the clan members who were more than willing to skin the panda bastard due to his known actions against her son.

She idly wondered how many more would join that bloodthirsty little group when all of his actions were brought to light.

"Who the hell are you people?!" A hoarse voice whispered loudly, throwing Nodoka from her daydreams of bloody revenge.

Pity. She was just getting to the good part, involving Viagra, a small cactus and chilli sauce.

Nodoka, the mother of Ranma Saotome, who was now legally Ranma Sayanomiya, looked at the ghostly pale face of Nabiki Tendo, the teenager's a sickening milky white as her expression was filled something just short of abject fear and terror, even as the high schooler tried desperately to mask it in whatever way she could. Beside her, the eldest Tendo girl also looked apprehensive.

She had forgotten their presence, so deep,were her thoughts and actions. She noticed their eyes look at the patch of cloth that was still holding the various articles, their eyes a trifle wide.

And they also noticed the skill she had used, in plain sight of the Uninitiated (a word for those ignorant of the existence of true magic.).

Well, as Uninitiated as a resident of Nerima ward can get.

"We are the guardians of Japan," Nodoka's brother said intently, trying to make these two ignorant young girls know exactly what they were stepping into, "we are the shield against the malicious forces of the arcane. When the darkness stirs, bringing rise to monsters and men of dark ambition and power, we are the light that thwarts them and sends them back to the abyss from which they came. We are-" he was interrupted by his sister.

"The true family of Ranma," she said firmly, leaving no room for doubt, before smiling slightly, the light of mischief that had been long absent from her eyes returning, making her brother start. His sister looked more like her niece in that moment than ever before. It was rather heartening for him to see that. "you didn't think his unique nature was an attribute belonging only to him and the wretched excuse for offal did you?"

The two Tendo daughters were quiet for a moment before the younger daughter turned pale and groaned heavily, her face dropping onto the table with a solid thunk. "That explains soooooo much," Nabiki muttered lowly, but not low enough for the two Sayanomiyas not to hear, "can't the Gender-Jock do anything by halves?" The young lady sounded more exasperated and annoyed than anything else.

Nodoka wanted to bristle at the words that the young woman had used to speak of her baby. Gender-Jock indeed! However, she couldn't refute the rest of her statement. The weird and the strange seemed to follow her son like a lost puppy, above and beyond what those who had attained a certain level of skill in the Arcane arts or the Ki arts had to endure.

It always seemed that the world focused around those with extreme amounts of Ki or Magic, as if they were more important in some way to the world, as if they were pillars upon which the world was supported.

...It would certainly explain the large amount of luck that a Campione, a King of Kings, had, able to twist chance and favour by sheer will power, bending the rules and laws of nature.

"Oh my," the elder sister gasped, her eyes shining in surprise, "I hope that whatever friends you may have following you can wait a while," her gentle eyes turned mournful and slightly ashamed, "it would take a while to make a fitting meal to receive them."

Nodoka couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the rather odd and blasé comment from Kasumi. What on earth was going on with this young lady? After all that had been said and implied, the lady had focused on the possibility of more guests?

Nodoka couldn't help but frown inwardly. Something was clearly wrong with the eldest Tendo female. That kind of reaction was not one of the usual ones, or even one of the weirder ones. The matron of the Sayanomiya clan was suddenly smelling something rotten in the Tendo home.

But that would be for another time, after she had read all the reports she had missed, while on her last mission, about the life of her son in this compound and a, hopefully, in depth investigation of the compound's native occupants.

She still had to focus on her missing child, and the cretin that had caused her and her clan a great deal of undue suffering due to his heinous actions.

"We've got what we came for," Nodoka said calmly as she rose to her feet, grasping the weathered journal with both hands. She would not be letting this out of her sight, not when it contained things about her baby boy. Things that could her her to know him. "We have no need to stay here any longer."

"Agreed," Kenshin said with a slow nod, gesturing with a hand towards the bag she had just rummaged through, a silent order to one of the agents guarding Genma, who quickly hopped to his appointed task.

"Please accept out apologies for intruding on your home, Miss Tendo, Miss Tendo," Kenshin said with a small bow to each of the current residents of the Tendo Compound that were present. "And for not acting sooner to apprehend the fool that has tainted your peaceful home for so long."

"Ah," Kasumi said with a gentle smile, "we thank you for the apologies and wish you well in the future."

"Our thanks," Kenshin smiled back, the elder Tendo girl's own gentle tranquility infectious, before pulling a business card from his pocket and sliding it over to the more mercenary sister, becoming serious again. "Here is my contact number. As this piece of offal is an experienced and cunning con man, with some skill in the more esoteric arts, it would not surprise us if he had somehow affected your family in some subtle way. If you encounter any problems that seem...odd, strange or mystical in some way, possibly as a result of the pandafied fool's meddling, please do not hesitate to call."

Nabiki nodded as she took the card, a plain one with easily readable characters with a name, address and a number, that showed that the man had a rather straight forward frame of mind, while still showing a degree of simple elegance with the slight embossing.

She narrowed her eyes as she noted the address printed on the card. It was one that she knew very well, that any resident of Japan would recognise instantly.

It surprised her that the head of what was implied to be a clan that delved into and fought the supernatural would have a connection to this place.

"...You work for the Diet?" She asked calmly while inwardly she was sweating a bit. Some the activities that she had done in the past would be frowned upon by those who worked for the government. It made her more than a little anxious to be in the presence of such a man, one who had clearly shown himself to be powerful.

She wasn't stupid enough to believe that such a person wouldn't have done a comprehensive investigation into the entire ward of Nerima, not just her family, before even setting foot here.

"In a way," Kenshin answered, "the Emperor, the Prime Minister and a few of his most loyal know of our organisation and what we do and help us when it comes to covering up the more mystical sides of any cases that come along that somehow wander into the normal world and give us the authority to interfere in clearly supernatural occurrences. However, in return, we are bound by a willing oath not to interfere with secular powers or events, a guarantee for the Prime Minister that we will not abuse our abilities in an attempt to rule the nation or otherwise undermine the government's authority." He frowned slightly, "though this only applies to those that swear themselves to the HCC. Independent local clans and other foreign organisations have not, to my knowledge, taken such an oath and some are more than willing to play the puppeteer if they want to." He frowned deeper, something dark entering into those amber eyes as they seemed blaze with a fierce light, "it is something that we try to prevent at all costs, with whatever we have."

Nabiki couldn't help but feel a shiver down her spine at the man's answer. Though she may not practice the Art like her younger sister did, she still remembered the lessons that the Tendo Art imparted to her when she was younger. More specifically, the ability to read an opponent. To see through the facade that they wore and observe the true person underneath the trappings. The sixth sense had helped her when she had first started her business ventures, her skills allowing her to clue her self in on how trustworthy some of her 'clients' were and how they did business, or whether they were too dangerous to mess with.

That little sense practically wailed at her that this was not a man to mess with, even if she disregarded the clearly mystical abilities of Ranma's mother that the man seemed to be completely unfazed about. Sitting there calmly, she couldn't help but be reminded of the tigers she had once seen in a zoo. Sleek, graceful and seeming to move slowly, undaunted by the happenings around them, as if they were above it all, kings of all they surveyed. But beneath that thin veneer of a lazy royal exterior was the soul that gloried in conflict, soaked themselves in the spray of their enemy's blood, that were of claw and fang. The soul of a predator.

The business suit he wore were merely insulting trappings to his true nature, like putting a war horse to a plough or using a sword to cut down a tree. They could both perform the task, but it was not what they were meant for, not what their true purpose was.

This was a man of war, of battle and blood. She realised that now. He should be clothed in armour and have swords at his waist. His mind was steel, undaunted and determined. His beliefs uncompromisable and diamond hard. Here was a man that knew honour and strength like the times of eld, who would defend those precious to him until his final breath, who's oaths, once given, were carved in stone.

It was almost incomprehensible to her, that such a man actually existed, especially in this day and age when 'expediency' and 'money' trumped 'loyalty' and 'respect'.

Instinctively, she knew that to cross this man was folly and it would only bring agony and disaster upon those foolish enough to do so.

It made her quite glad that he, and his scary sister, were leaving, taking the mooching fat tub of lard with them.

"Again," the man repeated, rising to his feet, towering over the far slighter and shorter Nabiki, as one of his followers easily heaved the dead weight of Genma the Panda over his shoulder to follow the first one, that had collected the bald martial artist's bag, out of the house, even as Nodoka went to his side, fiercely clutching the black leather bound journal that the Tendo girls had seen her remove from it's hiding place by mystical means to her bosom, "please do not hesitate to call if problems arise that may have possibly been caused by the panda."

"We will," Nabiki hastened to assure the rather intimidating man before her, who was also backed up by a rather frightening woman. If what they were saying was the truth, that they were Ranma's real family and were taking him back from the panda, then that meant that the Jock would be leaving Nerima and take the majority of the problems that arose from his presence with him.

It was a god send for the middle sister of the Tendos. Much as she made a good deal of money from his presence and the antics that surrounded him, Ranma, though not as much as the Panda, made for a large amount of the household expenses since he had arrived. Expenses that had risen drastically, mainly due to the black holes that the two Saotomes called stomachs and having to repair the collateral damage to the compound as various suitors and rivals popped out of the woodwork to face him.

Maybe now that the Jock had left the ward, chaos would cease to reign in it, allowing her to make a more stable income in her business ventures.

And not have to worry about constantly looking over her shoulder in case one of the ridiculously overpowered martial artists that came here eventually got fed up with her dealing or didn't have any honour to speak of and was willing to use force, force that a relatively average teenage girl like her wouldn't even hold a candle, to get their way against her.

It had been one of her more deep seated worries. She wasn't a fool, she knew where her dear bratty, gorilla-armed little sister stood in the supernatural martial artist pecking order in Nerima: Rock bottom, just below Kuno. She wouldn't have been able to defend the household from the various oddballs that made up the martial arts community, if they really got serious.

So having someone remove catalyst for such empowered beings to appear was more than worth it's weight in gold. The fact that said person also offered to deal with any more problems that may arise was also gratefully received.

"We won't waste anymore of your valuable time or impose on your hospitality any further then," he said before giving them each an appropriately polite bow, that was also duplicated by the crimson haired mother of Ranma, "Miss Tendo, Miss Tendo," before spinning on his heel and leaving the room and then the house, Nodoka following a step behind.

Nabiki didn't move, only letting out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding when she heard the firm sound of car doors closing and the slowly fading sound of a car's engine. She slumped down into the seat at the table with a heavy sigh of relief. That had been nerve wracking.

"Oh dear," she heard her gentle older sister say, making Nabiki turn her head slightly in her direction. Her sister had soft, if disappointed, smile on her face. "I had hoped they would be here a little longer. Kenshin-san had so many interesting stories."

Nabiki twitched slightly. Trust her sister to be more interested in the small talk rather than the shocks and surprises of magic and mystery and piss poor parenting being thrown about like confetti.

"Still," Kasumi said gently, moving off into the kitchen for whatever task had been interrupted when Nodoka had shown up as she did so, "please keep that card handy, Nabiki. I would love to share recipes and other things with that polite man at a later time."

Nabiki just stared blankly after the disappeared Tendo, before shaking her head. Again, only her sister.

"Are you sure of this?" A watery voice spoke into the air of the cellar, it's tones bouncing off the solid walls, echoes rippling and resounding.

"There is no doubt," Khu-Lon responded in her native tongue at the image she had called up, her face stern as she addressed the image of a similar wrinkled old lady, "I would never forget the presence of such a being, nor can I forget the consequences of one being slain."

Cologne focused on the image that rose from the sparkling stone basin, the massive bowl inscribed heavily with gleaming, glowing and glittering letterings of one of the long vanished and forgotten tribes of China, the language used long forgotten, leaving only this artefact as a their legacy to the world.

"I meant no offence, Matriarch," the image said, ghostly hands raised in a placating manner as their owner attempted to stem elder matron's ire. "It is just..." The ghostly little figure, less than a foot tall, trailed off as it hovered over the softly glowing water.

"Unbelievable, I know," Cologne responded, a wrinkled hand lifting to rub her brow, a rueful look on her aged face, "I wasn't expecting it either. But that's the thing about Campione. Destiny, laws, rules and fate, none of these mean anything to them. They make their own destiny."

"One that the village would want entwined with their own," the ghostly image said in response and warning, wrinkled lips pursed.

"True, true," Cologne agreed with a series of nods. As a village of warriors, a legacy of their ancient origins, they respected strength and power and martial skill, even if it wasn't in one of the female gender, and always sought to improve the tribe's martial strength.

Which was why the Kiss of Marriage law was crafted, a way to inject new and strong blood in the Amazon lines. It also explained the Kiss of Death, a more elementary and primal way of removing possible competition for strong males.

Breeding lines of power was but one way to strengthen the tribe. New knowledge and battle skills to be taught to the young for those who left the village and returned, families always experimenting with their form of the Art, trying to make it better, stronger. New weapons being crafted in new ways, trying to make them stronger, sharper, better. Each of these options and more contributed to the whole of the martial power of the tribe, each successive generation becoming stronger than the last, making the tribe even strong enough to halt the incursions of Beijing, allowing them to live as they had done for time immemorial.

The valley of Jusenkyo and it's surroundings were probably the last, and only, portion of China that didn't bow a neck to the current Chinese government. Not that there hadn't been attempts from that quarter to overrun them. Such forces were quickly dismantled when the Amazons secretly paid a small visit to the President of the current administration and his military advisors.

They left quite an impression on them, so much in fact that they agreed to leave the valley of Jusenkyo alone with complete sincerity. It was rather amazing what one person could persuade another to do when they were shown what they could to people with a multitude of swords, a randy bull and a pommel horse, and they that they could experience any time they wanted, regardless of the administration's own desires and policies.

However, the tribe had learned well that there were forces in the world that none their skills, no matter how powerful, or their people, no matter how well they were trained, could possibly stand against. Beings that loomed over humanity like mountains over a pebble. Beings that Cologne had encountered when she was in her youth. Beings that she found out, after her youthful pilgrimage, were the very reason that her tribe existed.

"Are you sure that it is possible for your granddaughter to accomplish it?" The image asked seriously, wrinkled brows wrinkling even more, "others, some of them more accomplished, have tried-."

"I am sure," Cologne said sharply, halting further words from her fellow Matriarch, "I know this newest one well, which was the our downfall in regards to the others we have encountered and sought out. I am confident that I can train my descendent well enough to attract his eye."

The Matriarchs locked eyes, pitting their wills against one another. But Cologne wasn't one to back down, especially in this regard. The past plans of this nature from other leaders in their community had been met with disaster and little else, which discouraged others from trying similar tactics. But the circumstances here were very different, differences that gave the inside run and a healthier chance of success.

For the tribe, for the Throne. She would would succeed. Or rather her granddaughter would.

"Very well," the image sighed in acceptance, closing transparent eyelids and rubbing her temple, "I will give my support in this and inform the rest of the Council," then those eyes opened once more, a light that was as stern and unyielding as stone itself, "keep in mind however, Matriarch Khu-Lon," the image spoke fiercely, the basin rippling beneath the force of power the distant Matriarch projected, as testament to the strength that dwelled within the deceptively shrivelled frame. Cologne, however, remained unmoved. "that you follow the Laws to the letter. Fail to do so, and I will withdraw my support, Head Matriarch or no, and the Council will pass their judgement. Am I clear, Sister?"

"You are, Sister," Cologne answered promptly, the show of power from the distant Matriarch doing nothing to disturb her. If it had come down to a fight, both of them knew who would be the winner.

"Very well then," the shrivelled image of a woman sighed, before smiling slightly, the political part of the call now ended and letting the two talk as the friends they were. "I wish your descendent good luck then, she will need it if the stories of her intrepid young man are true. Things will only get more chaotic now that he may be a Campione...wherever he is. I'll call you if any of our outposts encounter him."

"Thank you, Yanyu." Said a grateful Cologne, "I will, in turn, keep you updated on Xianpu's progress." The Head Matriarch of the Joketsuzoku gently released her hold on her magic, slowly letting the light from the basin, and thus the connection with the other side, slowly fade, business and pleasantries done. "Farewell, Sister." She spoke to the now flickering image.

"Farewell," the image echoed back before vanishing, leaving the cellar dark and silent as it had been.

Cologne gazed at the basin for a moment, a fond smile on her face as reminisced on the other times she had used it, the other conversations that she had had with her friend in the past. She shook her head after a moment, washing away those thoughts, before moving up the cellar's stairs, a determined look upon her aged face.

Whatever chance her granddaughter had at snagging the Saotome child as a husband previously had been changed drastically. Whether it was in the positive or negative direction remained to be seen.

It was a whole new game now. No more Kiss of Marriage, no more Kiss of Death. No drugs or magic. No silly tests or challenges.

Just the age old courtship between a man and a woman.

Even if the man could be considered a God in comparison to the female's ant.

Now she needed to increase her granddaughter's training, teach her other things rather than just martial arts, show her the Secrets, show her how to interact with a Campione. She had to make her beloved granddaughter relearn a few things, unteach her a few of the unconscious beliefs that she picked up back in the village. Beliefs that she had been willing to let slide, confident that experiencing life outside if the village long enough would open her eyes...in time.

With the current change in circumstances though...

She knew that if her granddaughter treated the young man the way she had been before, an early grave for her descendant would be the only result. Ranma's Campione instincts for survival, for battle, would no doubt kick in and view Shampoo as an enemy and act accordingly before Ranma could consciously hold back.

Such were the dangers of interacting with a Campione.

She knew Shampoo had a long road ahead of her, but she also knew that her descendent would be stronger for the travelling. And the goal at the end of the path was worth it, at least to her granddaughter.

For all the village laws, and her granddaughter's talk of following of them, there was still a spark there. A small flame between the young stallion and her descendent that could become something brighter, everlasting.

Beautiful.

Cologne was no fool. She had been around the proverbial block several times in the past, even if her first one had been an absolute disaster, curse that damned Pervert. She saw the beginnings of the real thing, a true heart, in her descendant's eyes as she looked upon Ranma. And in the sapphire eyes of Ranma, she saw the first glimmerings of a similar emotion, though more childish and subdued, the feeling kept suppressed due to Akane, her actions and the entire debacle caused by the boy's father.

Despite her position in the village, and the duty that it entailed, she wouldn't have the decision to let her granddaughter keep courting Ranma after his ascension if she didn't think that they were both compatible, if she didn't think that the greatest blessing and curse for man to have received from the Gods wouldn't develop fully.

Not to mention that the eventual consummation would give her extraordinary grandchildren for her to dote on.

She grinned lightly to herself, subtly tensing her muscles and lightly cracking her old knuckles, sounding like walnut shells being crushed.

It had been a while since she had taken a true apprentice. The last had been Shampoo's aunt Xiang, heaven rest her soul, who had fallen due to the errant stupidity and paranoia of one of the Generals in the PRC when she was protecting distant tribespeople visiting the home village, before her great granddaughter's birth.

The General hadn't lived out the week after Xiang's passing. Cologne had made sure of that.

But now seemed to be a good enough time for it. Cologne needed an heir for when she finally kicked the bucket. Shampoo needed the strength and training and knowledge in order to be even remotely safe or acceptable as a Campione's partner, a position that was fraught with peril at the best of times, the chances of her being targeted instead of her paramour by his enemies being an almost certain event. The Tribe wanted stronger blood in their lines. And Ranma would gain a lover who would know how to handle herself against a variety of beings and would be willing to ride the storm of his life until the end of her days, as well as an alliance with a rather powerful village of Martial Artist/Mages so early in his reign.

(Though the alliance would have to be rather silent for now. At least until Ranma came back, and she had no doubt he would, finalised the deal and found a way to negotiate with Luo Hao.

Although it was inevitable, Cologne couldn't help but feel a small chill down her back, as well as a cackle of mad delight and laughter in her throat, at the thought of the two meeting.

Knowing Ranma, and Her Eminence's reputation, she had no doubt it would be a rather...interesting meeting.

She idly wondered if there was any nearby troubling hills or mountains that needed to removed.)

It was a win all around.

But those thoughts were for later. Now, she grinned evilly as spied her gently reposing granddaughter, now was the time for her to put the fear of the sifu into her beloved descendant.

Shrill cackling followed by musical cursing was later heard by the neighbours coming from above the Cat Cafe, making those that heard shiver to themselves in fear.

Nothing good ever came of those noises.

Ranma was still in a daze as he sat on a private ferry on it's way to Naxos and from there to Athens. Ranko was smiling and cheering from the prow of the ship, the salt spray striking her face doing nothing to deter her and only made her cheer more. The Professor and Cassandra both smiled at the kid, enjoying the excitement in her eyes, as if she had never experienced it before. Even the gruff Captain, the only other person on the vessel, had a small grin.

Yet again, his world had been turned upside-down. Everything he thought he knew about the world, thrown out the window, revealed to be the sweet lies they were, leaving only the unbelievable, yet accurate and real, truth to be seen.

The only thing that didn't surprise him in some way, was the fact that magic was involved in this whole debacle. That power had been dogging his steps even before Jusenkyo. After being dunked in the valley's waters, the frequency of the encounters with the mystical had only increased.

Just the thought of the discipline gave him the shivers now.

Still, a silver lining in this heavy cloud was the fact that due to his new status (which he still couldn't honestly believe, despite his instincts telling him it was the truth.) magics created by mortals would simply break on contact with his aura, which was generally skin tight. About the only mortal magic he would have to worry about would be if he ingested it.

That hadn't reassured him as much as it should have in other circumstances. He knew the Amazons and their skill in drugs and potions. He wouldn't put it past them to have a way to get around this little feature.

It was a pretty heavy thing to learn that one was a Godslayer and the rights and responsibilities that came with the ominous title.

He honestly wasn't sure what to think about it. On one hand, it gave him the capability, the right even, for him to live up to the Code without needing to listen to petty little things like rules or laws. Many would see this as a good thing.

On the other hand, the power, while granted through conquest, wasn't exactly earned. And that put him off a bit. Every skerrick of power that he had obtained came through sacrifice, blood, sweat, tears and determination. It made him leery, even outright contemptuous, of the notion of 'free power'.

He had seen the consequences of such scenarios before.

Blood mixing with soaking rain as it fell, covering the stones and pavement in a washed out red. Sightless brown eyes staring at the darkened sky as the scent of cordite lingered even in the sodden air...

He shivered slightly, shoving those memories into the back of his mind, not wanting to have to deal with them. Not right now.

It never ended well for those who were 'granted' that fleeting ephemeral power.

"Big Brother!" He heard the call, drawing him from his musings, making him look up from his seat near the port rail, his backside (which was now clad in some more suitable garb thanks to the Old Man's organisation giving him a hand in the financial department. His new little sister also receiving similar treatment.) parked firmly on the deck.

"Dolphins!" Ranko called out in delight, acting more like a preteen or a child than the healthy teenager she looked to be, her face showing a surprising amount of innocence as she pointed.

Ranma grinned slightly before, in a single smooth move, rolled forward a little and rocked back on his heels then kicked out. Launching himself across the face of the ship, much to the shock of the Captain and Cassandra, the Old Man just raising a small eyebrow in slight surprise, to land beside his little sister at the bowsprit, looking down into the churning waters below with a small smile and satisfied smirk as he remembered the faces he had seen in his movement.

Heh! Still have it! Look at them gape. It's like they have never seen a martial artist before!

He stifled the chuckling that wanted to escape as he looked down.

Sure enough, much to Ranko's pleasure, there was a small pod of dolphins, maybe about a half dozen, swimming and jumping on either side of the prow, seemingly to chatter and laugh with every move they made. Leaping and diving and sprint swimming. It was like they didn't have a care in the world.

If he was to be completely honest with himself, he kinda envied the beautiful creatures. No worries, no regrets, no duties. The entire sea was their playground.

Whereas back at the Tendo's, he was stuck in Nerima and the constant chaos that surrounded the ward. Shackled by honour not of his choosing and leashed by his dependence on the fat panda. It was not something he liked.

Maybe there was something that his Campione status could do to help?...

"Kiki kiiii Ki Ki!" One of the dolphins chattered as it leapt high, extraordinarily so, making Ranko gasp as it came up to eye level with her Campione brother.

Ranma looked into eye that surveyed him as time itself seemed to slow.

Cunning, mischief, playfulness. That was what the sea beast showed on the outside to most that looked at them. However they forgot one thing about these admittedly sleek and beautiful creatures. They were hunters, predators, beings that killed others in order to live. They were not the harmless little children of the sea that modern media generally portrayed them to be.

Ranma could see the hidden darkness that dwelled within them by looking into the visible eye of the beast. Mischief could turn into malice, playfulness into ire. These beings could be as unpredictable as waters they dwelled in. The stories that he had heard over years about them saving people were just that, stories.

The moment ended, time returning to it's usual pace, and the sleek creature of the water plunged back into the waves, leaving Ranma to muse on what he had seen, and the meaning behind it, and Ranko to gape in slight awe.

Which reminded him...

"Do it again!" The little lady called out, laughing and giggling, almost folding herself in half over the railing to look down directly at the leaping dolphins, wanting one to do the same for her as it had done him.

He quirked an eyebrow as the dolphins all seemed to answer her call, leaping higher and higher with each successive jump as they seemed to strive to reach her.

That wasn't a normal response for the wild animals, confirming that his little sister wasn't exactly normal either. As normal as a former curse taken form could be anyway.

There was something beneath that childish surface, a touch of wisdom and knowledge, of age, that somehow seemed to be both part of Ranko and yet separate, that didn't seem to affect how the kid lived and moved. He wasn't sure what it was, but he could feel that it had no ill intent on him, indeed it seemed to be dormant, slumbering deeply, as if it were exhausted by something.

He would keep an eye on it and try to determine exactly what it was, but apart from that? He shrugged to himself. As long as it didn't hurt anybody, his new little sister especially, he didn't mind what it did.

It would be rather hypocritical of him to try to attack it on the assumption that it had done something wrong or was a threat. He got enough of that from the rivals and fiancées that kept showing up at the dojo.

"How long now?!" He called back to the Captain over the wind of the open sea, wondering how long it would take to reach the island. He was rather eager to get back to the only true home he knew, despite the events surrounding the compound.

His keen ears heard the slightly squeaky motion of the Captains chair as he turned towards his instruments.

"About an hour! Maybe a bit more!" The Captain called back, "It looks like we're running directly into the wind which is slowing down the old girl a little!"

Ranma nodded, not bothering to turn around. He didn't have much experience on boats, Pops being too cheap to get tickets or bother with stowing away, so he took the Captain's word as gospel. From what he understood, the Captain had done this run for over a decade and knew the waters, the weather and how it affected the rate of travel quite well.

Ranma was always willing to listen to voice of experience...except when his Father was involved.

So why did he suddenly feel uneasy, his hackles rising for no apparent reason, as if there were danger about.

'How could there be though?" He questioned himself, "we're pretty much in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight and no other vessels or beings around. What could possibly attack without warning out here?"

Even as his mind tried to reassure itself that they were safe, his body listened to what his instincts were saying, the lifestyle he had lived allowing no other option if it wanted to avoid pain.

Muscles tensed, ready to move at a moments notice to either attack, defend or evade. His senses grew sharper, making him feel as if he was one with his surroundings, allowing him to seek and find anything that disturbed them within that sphere of influence.

He could feel his Ki rise to the surface, hovering and humming just below his skin, ready to be called upon at his time of need.

Something else also rose though. Two somethings in fact.

That collection of...nodes he supposed, the islands of power in his Ki pools also rose, each of them eager to be let loose, to be used, he only needed to say the words.

Below those islands and his Ki though, something else stirred. It stayed separate from his Ki, staying down in the depths of his soul, the abyss below the ocean of his Ki and yet entirely different but entwined. But even then he could feel the slow stirring of those unplumbed depths, a darkness that, nevertheless, didn't scare him but made him slightly apprehensive. He had felt it before, but never from himself, at least not from the very depths of his soul and spirit, the very seat of his own power.

It was magic.

He remembered the Professor saying that becoming a Campione meant that his magical abilities would go through the roof, but he had never sensed the magic within him, except for the 'islands' that he supposed were the representation of his Authorities. Considering the massive jump in his Ki pools, he thought that maybe it was his Ki that was increased instead.

Guess he was wrong. He had been gifted with magic, a large- strike that, a huge amount of it to, comparable to his current Ki levels. They were just hidden beneath his now vast reservoir of Ki, almost completely undetectable unless something disturbed them.

He grimaced slightly to himself. Much as he personally disliked magic, he had it now and he knew he would have to learn to control it, one way or another.

He put aside those thoughts, shaking his head sternly. Now wasn't the time for wool-gathering or distractions. He had to remain focused. His instincts screamed danger.

Now he had to find it.

Shrill squealing pierced his sensitive ears, making him want to cringe, and glanced at the source of the noise.

The dolphins were still leaping, but Ranma noticed somehow, don't ask him how, that there was now longer any playfulness in their manner.

Desperation and outright fear was now tensing the line of their sleek bodies, the squealing seemed to reflect terror. They sensed something too, and they were fleeing from it as fast as possible.

Ranma blinked suddenly, a thought sending a frission of fear, not for himself, but for the others aboard the swiftly moving vessel. If the dolphins were running from something and yet staying with the boat...

He snapped into action, grabbing his sister around the waist and pulling her back properly onto the boat, much to her loud and innocent protest, and leapt high and long, landing lithe and swift in front of the frowning and puzzled Cassandra and the Captain, while the face of Professor Alexander was frowning, his old body tensed as he also looked around.

Good. The Old Man knew something was up, even if he didn't know exactly what. Looks like he pegged the old guy right. Once a warrior, always a warrior. No matter the age or what they did for a living after their war was done.

"Somethings wrong," he said without preamble, plunking his sister in a seat beside Cassandra. "Don't know what, but something is really wrong. Something strong enough to scare the living crap out of a pod of dolphins into running." He frowned even as the Captain suddenly looked serious and a little nervous. As Ranma had been informed, the Captain was in the know about the supernatural and had had a few encounters with various mages, warlocks and other beings of the Arcane, though never a Heretic God, and knew how the sea, itself and the occupants that dwelled in it's depths, behaved around such things. He clearly knew something was up too, and it wasn't likely to be pleasant. "There is also something in the air..." He trailed off, looking at the now scowling visage of the Professor.

"There is something alright," growled the elderly man, his eyes narrowed and his knuckles white as they clutched ahold of his walking cane, "Magic. And a lot of it too. Too much to be a single practitioner unless they were in the Highest Ranks."

"Wonderful," sighed the Neriman pugilist. Just what he needed. Couldn't the world cut him some slack?! It was New Year's Day for heaven's sake! Didn't that earn him a bit of a reprieve from the chaotic bullshit that filled his life!?

With the confirmation of the more experienced mage and a yell for his sister to stay put, he sprinted toward the back of the boat, looking out over the water, looking for something that could have been left in their wake.

He could see nothing, nothing that was out of place. But he could feel it, the eyes of someone watching him, someone with malice in their hearts.

But where were they?!

His spine stiffened suddenly as something reached his ear even over the sound of churning sea and roaring engine. A sound that he knew well after his conflict with the Amazons.

The sound of a string drawing tight and pulled back. The sound of a bow string being used.

But he couldn't identify where it was coming from! These increased senses were too new, untested and untried in the field of combat. He couldn't pinpoint the direction. The noise of the engine and the wind didn't help either.

'Die now, Godslayer,' he heard a voice hiss, almost as if he heard it in his mind rather than his ears.

TWANG!

That was heard by all on the ferry ship, sounding more like a melodious thunder than a pluck of a string as something was launched.

It was also easy to see, a missile of burning white light, like a small sun or a thunderbolt par excellence, the size of a bus suddenly appearing mid-air far off of the port side stern, rocketing it's way toward them.

Ranma's eyes widened.

It was moving too fast, scorching the air and sea with it's passage, leaving a path of boiling death and destruction in it's wake. He wouldn't be able to summon something strong enough to stop it, not on such short notice. His strongest Mouko Takabisha might have worked, but that took time.

Was this the true power of magic? Did the mages he had fought in the past really hold back that much? Were they truly capable of using spells of such power as this?

Or was it even a mage? Were regular mortals able to use spells of such power? Or was it something else? Something far stronger and much more dangerous than a Voodoo Spike taken to eleven?

Not to mention that it was focused on erasing the entire ship rather than just him. People other than him would die. Cassandra, the Professor, the Captain...

His little sister. His dear Ranko that he had known for only a brief time.

He snarled deeply. It maybe a useless endeavour, but he would be damned if he didn't try to protect her.

He let out a roar, his primal side making itself known as his muscles bulged and power surged in his veins, screaming a challenge to the heavens as the missile approached.

He leapt towards his friends, his sister, the world seeming to slow down as he did so. His thoughts focused on nothing saving them.

BOOOM!

The sound echoed and thundered across the water, creating a shockwave that would no doubt end up becoming a small tsunami once it hit land, as the white hot missile struck home, the world also turning white as it detonated, white hot fire consuming the air and water that surrounded it.

Heedless of the raging heat, flame and wind that was enough to strip flesh from bone, the archer laughed in satisfaction as she allowed her [Misty Veil] to fall and become visible to the world at large once more, also dismissing her bow from which she had launched the projectile.

"Fool," she laughed in malicious joy as she watched the sun's flames consume the area, "what a fool!"

She laughed again. To think! She had been angered and enraged that a new Campione had been born, coming into existence. Worse yet, his fate seemed to be even more chaotic and unpredictable than his brothers and sisters, a true wild card in the endless game of hunted and hunter amongst the Divine.

But for all the hype she had, the belief that this one would be dangerous, a worthy foe and excellent prey, he had fallen to only one of her arrows.

It was both disappointing and gratifying. Disappointing that her prey was taken down so easily. Gratifying in that it assuaged her that her skills were still as good as they were, that she hadn't lost her edge.

Unlike that stupid fallen feather brained fool that she had once been forced to bow to, taking a lesser role.

At least she still had her Divinity and power, unlike the feather head.

She looked at the carnage again, the white flames roaring high and obscuring her vision. Not that it mattered, the abomination and those that were with him were no doubt ashes now.

So much for the vaunted strength of a Campione.

She sniffed, turning away and readying to open a Way from this place. She had no need to linger, her self appointed task was done.

A sharp whistling was all the warning she had.

It wasn't quite enough.

A gleam of silvery-white light, obscured and hidden by both the lingering power and existence of her arrow's flames, struck her square in the back of the head, knocking her out of the sky and towards the water below.

Like a missile, she streaked toward the ocean, a falling dark star, before she recovered quickly, the surprise and the impact only jarring her rather than injuring her in anyway, and with the force of her will, stopped her descent just short of the water.

She glared up at her assailant, his scowling face and cold blue eyes showing his anger as he stood on a glittering silver path in the air. Her eyes traced it back to the, unsurprising due to the boy standing above her, intact vessel that seemed to have been untouched by her arrow's flames.

Speaking of them, it seemed that the abomination's Authority, for what else could challenge her power and magic, seemed to have...consumed her flames, devouring them and the light they gave off, making the glittering silver path glow brighter.

"Clever, for an abomination," she muttered, her eyebrow's raised as she noticed the scowl deepen on said abomination's face at her words before grinning at him. If he wanted to hear more, then he was quite welcome in her opinion, "or perhaps just fortunate?" She smirked mockingly as she summoned her bow, and another as well, as she used four of her six arms to grasp them, white hot arrows, smaller and weaker than her first appearing on the strings, ready to be loosed, her face alight with the joy of the Hunt.

The battle truly began not a moment later.

I know you all hate me for leaving you on a cliff hanger. But that is the way the cookie crumbles guys. I want to see how many of you guys can guess who this Heretic Goddes that Ranma is facing is.

Please leave a review.

kujikiri21