Dhamphir Side Stories: Gasper Vladi.

Dhamphir Side Stories: Gasper Vladi.

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Wordcount: 1500

Commissioned  by Ichypa

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Power above all.

That is the creed of all those who I wish to save. All the Courts of the Moonlit World believe that might makes right, that the weak are cattle, and that everything should be exploited for more power.

If only they knew the truth, or would believe the truth, regarding those words.

Father thought of them as they thought of humanity, mere sources of power which is cautiously harvested and grown in order to provide him a means of escape. Long ago, before he turned Valerie into what she is and acquired the other half of his infernal machine, they were merely fuel for his vehicle with which he planned to escape reality.

Now that he had his completed, perfected machine, they were a carefully-cultivated stockpile of power, either for battle or fuel for his rituals.

I wanted to free them of that role, yet somehow that led me to my current predicament of having to fight them in order to become their master. Or, ia the scary reincarnated god would say, beating them up to enslave them, so that they could be free. 

Human politics are so much easier to follow. Those whose arguments have merit are supported by the populace, then if their service during office is inadequate, they aren’t voted back into power. It’s a rather simple affair for the Nobility, who would cite its lack of blood duels, grudges, and indoctrination to a culture designed to exploit the weak as weakness, but I believe that’s what makes it better in the first place.

However, it didn’t appeal to my target audience, so here I was fighting against the head of a Vampire clan.

Who was looking at my like I was a piece of meat to be carved up and served at a banquet table.

As far as scary looks go, it was quite unnerving. Truly, I must cultivate my own “war face” for the future, if only to ensure that I could hide how scared I am of such things. It’s very strange, and I’m somewhat ashamed to admit it, but even though I’m capable of staying calm in battle, I don’t believe I’ll ever ber able to surmount intimidation.

All of it is simply too… intimidating?

No.

It’s not the time to be intimidated.

It was time to fight.

“Well met, Gasper Vladi.” She bowed to me, and as I bowed in turn, I became highly aware of my surroundings. I expected surprise attacks, pitfalls, and sudden activations of spells. There was even the fear of being attacked by one of the onlookers and witnesses, though that would have trampled upon the very nature of the duel itself. Fights, after all, were never fair. However, none came. Only my opponent before me, clad in formal wear and wearing a rapier, faced me. “Well, shall I attack first or shall you--oof!?”

I punched her in the abdomen, after crossing the distance between the two of us in a single moment, and sent her flying. She only remained within the boundaries of the arena by using her sword to slow her flight by gouging the floor with its back. 

“A-ah, sorry, that’s just a force of habit!” Quarta’s teachings were to blame, for my sudden attack during an opening. It has been ingrained into my body and soul that I must seize every opportunity to attack when I’m able. There was supposed to be a moment of quibbling, making a show for the onlookers, so that it was not lost what was being fought for. “Did you want to start first?”

Though I fully intended to be nice, murmurs ran across the crowd, and Quarta gave me a thumbs up.

Recounting what I just said in my head, I realized something terrible.

I was becoming an uncouth meathead without a sense of formality!

Oh, no!.

What was next? Was I to become a musclebound tyrant who ruled like a barbarian!? But, if I changed, wouldn’t Valerie hate me!?

Oh, I didn’t like what was happening to me one bit, but I couldn’t deny that having the first strike was very important!

Wait a moment, wasn’t I doing something important?

A sword’s point was coming my way. I registered it as soon as it reached the periphery of my vision. I felt the need to dodge it, but then I realized that it wasn’t as swift as Quarta’s slashes, let alone her thrusts. 

I didn’t need to dodge it.

This was a moment for me to display my strength, to do something impressive, like catch the blade in my fingers. All my training was paying off, since it was moving at speeds slower than I’m used to. In fact, I could counter-

In fact, I could counter-

I PUNCHED HER IN THE STOMACH, AGAIN.

“OOF!”

I DID IT AGAIN! Instead of being elegant, sophisticated, and someone that Valerie would appreciate, I just punched a woman in the stomach and sent her flying the moment there was an opening! Why can’t I fight the right way for a duel!? All my ingrained responses to combat is to automatically counter, because that was the only way I could hope to survive against Xenovia Quarta, the Sword Saint! 

At this rate, I’m going to become a thuggish oaf that Valerie would hateeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Alright, calm down, Gasper. Though you’ve been trained in countering automatically, there’s a chance that you can still do this fight properly. You need to try very hard, but you can overcome your ingrained insticts for just a moment. Look at her, she’s standing up, her face is red with rage, and she’s breathing hard. That means she’s going to fight at her absolute best to save face, so you need to respect that.

What you’re going to do, at her next attack, is use your Sacred Gear.

Nice. She’s actually casting magic to buff herself--

She’s a pretty slow casters, so that’s an opening though-

NO!  DON’T CHARGE IN FOR AN AAXEEE KICCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKK!

…

“Good jobl, my student, you were as ruthless and powerful as I wanted you to be.” Quarta placed a hand on my shoulder, while giving a thumbs up with her other hand. “Were I not comparing you to Song, thus making your efforts look terrible, my heart would have skipped a beat.”

I don’t want your praise! It’s the praise of a woman whose mind is filled with either violence or lewdness. As much as I dislike my father’s methods, the way of life he espoused has merit. Life has elegance, grace, and beauty… none of which I currently have, because of YOU! Please, I’m sorry for asking for this, but you’ve hurt my feelings! Please, be nicer to me!

“G-good job, G-gasper-kun! I’m very proud of you!” Argento praised me as well. He took my hands in his, smiling widely, and giggled in joy at my success. “And, you looked really pretty, even though Xenovia-chan’s techniques were very scary!”

Please, Argento, be less nice to me! Your ability is too stunning to look upon. Though we are interested in different people, seeing you being so casually elegant and demure is torturous! Even in battle, you’re the picture of elegance, which catches the gazes of all onlookers, before you destroy them with magic. Having you praise me in a way I could never manage is only making me aware of my own limitations. My apologies, you’ve truly done nothing wrong and I’m merely being selfish, but please be less considerate!

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over me, which drew the attention of those congratulating me. 

Li Song loomed over me. 

Power personified.

He gave me a smile and a single nod, before bringing me back to reality with a single wave. 

Behind me, the head of the Clan I’d fought was kneeling, bereft of her headwear and symbols, as she held her sheathed sword to me pommel-first. On instinct, I conducted the proper ceremony, taking the sword, returning it after confirming that sword was now mine, and wielded in my name with my permission. Then, she stood up, to speak to address her clan of their new mission in defeating my father.

The final obstacle to gathering allies, perhaps the greatest moment of my life, passed by in a blur as I wished to see Li Song’s approval once again.

However, when I turned around, he was already gone. 

Leaving me to the accomplishments I only earned thanks to his help, as though they were solely my own. 

Jeez.

He was everything father feared, everything that I was taught to fear. A man with ambition, filled with justice, and the means to achieve anything he wished to achieve. Unreasonable amounts of power, gilded by purpose, and the ability and will to continuously grow stronger. 

Of all the Preservers, he should be the one I feared the most.

Yet, as I looked upon his back, all I felt was the fervent desire to be like him.