Desert Company: Retrospective

Ding. The elevator chimed its second ring. The machine announced the seventh floor, as the clack of Kwazhak’s steps reverberated throughout the corridor. The pale white walls, the never-ending ceramic white tiles. Office lights hung on the ceiling, illuminating the hall. Numerous rows of window panes divided the offices from the corridor. Kwazhak stopped, and took a steep right turn. People watched as the young man approached the brown door of the CEO of Al-Wa.

More than a week had passed since he had promised Suruj. It was something that had given Kwazhak the perfect chance to fulfill what he wanted to do when he first met Miss Saya. Like Suruj, this was something that they both wanted to do. Kwazhak knew that ‘person’ must be important to Suruj.

Kwazhak stopped in front of the door, and looked at his hands. At the slightest moment, he noticed that they were trembling ever so calmly. His body was feeling great malice from the other side of the door, but his mind was clean. He had to focus on granting Suruj’s request, and his own as well.

“Dihu Chuangsong.”

Kwazhak teleported into Thiệu’s office, as the alarms immediately started to blare. The lights turned into a bright red, as he looked at the man. The man casually walked from his desk, went to a control panel in the left corner, and flicked a switch. The alarm deactivated as the room returned to normal.

“Welcome, fated noble. It appears that you have some very important business with me, barging into my office,” Thiệu greeted him with open arms, in a booming voice. “Has your hero complex compelled you to make a great sacrifice?”

“I’m honored to know that one thinks so highly of me,” Kwazhak replied with confidence, with a smile on his face, “But I did not come here for someone’s sake. I, Kwazhak Laoyuang, the second heir to the Laoyuang house, came here on my own accord.”

They both gave themselves boisterous laughter, lasting a few seconds. However they soon became serious. Kwazhak guessed from the man’s tone that he was aware that he was coming. Even if they planned it weeks earlier, it was as if Thiệu knew everything.

“Hoh? Then what is it that you desire from Al-Wa? This is the first time that one of the Laoyuang’s have set foot in this room,” Thiệu’s voice began to become more mocking. Then Kwazhak was ready to say his request. Following the words that Suruj had given him, with the motivation of Saya.

“I request that you sponsor me to fight in the Dineh Kazaàd. And I will consent to being confined to this company, for the exchange of one desire. To release one of the fighters of my choosing,” He made a daunting gesture, a plea so ambitious that it moved even the heartless of souls.

“Interesting request, all right. And whom do you wish to be exchanged for?”

“I wish to be exchanged with the girl of no name, and nothing more.”

That was his will. Kwazhak wanted to meet Ayai Toya, and Suruj gave him that chance. He wasn’t going to back down on his offer to meet possibly the one who could speak his mother’s language.

“I will grant your request under one condition,” Thiệu replied solemnly, “Fight me. If you manage to land a hit on me, that spot is yours. But if I take your life, I win.”

“...” Kwazhak found the words. He couldn’t let threats sway him. “One does realize if my life is taken, then As-Z̆onghu̐a will indefinitely-”

“So let them blame Azutami. This country is nothing but a melting pot of modernization. Emperor Miyuyno is softer than the entire lineage generations before. And more paranoid. The Azu and Z̆ongren nations will never become comrades, but stay as eternal enemies. Someone needs to teach Azutami before the world loses its meaning to the stinking carcass of globalization.”

“It appears you haven’t seen the outside world if one makes such comments. If you make these conditions, then so be it,” Kwazhak grinned slightly, “Has one not seen the bustling streets of the Grand Azu Bazaar? The sounds of the Erhu fluttering in the wind, Buhang cuisine filling the noses of many, the Khoitan minarets that lie in every establishment? If one takes a good look at the discrete details of any human civilization, I would say we have been globalized since the year the first Khoitan, Azu, Buhang and Z̆ongren were born.”

“Enough is enough. You were already dead the moment you stepped in my office,” He assumed a stance as white particles illuminated near him, “Mahou Hiryok: Autarchic Beatdown.”

Particles flew. Kwazhak arched back as a massive blow hit his abdomen. He began to spit crimson. Spell modifications? Thiệu wasn’t holding back. Kwazhak fell, reaching the floor. Was he going to die? He had a low chance of winning, let alone counter him. But in order to talk to Ayai Toya. In order to find the one that spoke his mother’s language. For the one that gave him the chance. Kwazhak wasn’t going to give up.

He gripped a sword that appeared in his hands. Metal atoms arranged themselves, and modified the sword into a great one. Kwazhak regained balance and kicked himself back up. He wiped off the blood from his mouth.

“Spell modifications? This shall be a fair fight!” He shouted and held his claymore before him, “Dihu Hongxing: Laoyuang Art, Guizu Bladework!”

Kwazhak deflected the invisible forces that were coming towards him. Thiệu’s Mahou Hiryok, was modified. Many saharic particles became homing projectiles that endlessly launched themselves at Kwazhak. He parried as sparks of metal and heat chipped his blade. He whirled around to fend off everything that flew at him. He was not an imbecile. Even if the force was invisible, saharic particles appeared to the naked eye at a certain distance within a living creature, casting a white light. Kwazhak produced a high and low guard. He attempted to inch his way through the hellish wave of light. Left, right, above, behind, saharic forces came at him from all directions. If Saya or the others came in contact with this attack, they would’ve been obliterated to mincemeat. And he barely avoidedthe assault from one modified spell.

His own modified spell was the only ace that prevented him from having holes in his body. Kwazhak gripped the great sword with two hands, something he had done for the first time in years. Saharic particles were something to be reckoned with. These particles were tiny pieces of metaphysical matter, carrying properties similar to a gas. In order to counter saharic particles, was saharic particles of his own. His sword imbued with sahar, absorbing it in the air and from the attacks.

“One spell and you cannot even get close to me, ” Thiệu mocked. He laughed so hard that it made it difficult for Kwazhak to focus.

Malicious onslaught. Hopeless conjecture. If this continued, Kwazhak would be overwhelmed. He twirled the sword in his hand and swiped multiple saharic forces in one blow. The sound of fireworks. The clank of a gold coin slipped from his robe. It glided down to the floor with a hiss. He looked behind. He blocked an attack going for his head. Kwazhak was pushed closer towards Thiệu. Maybe if he could disorient the particles through manipulation, then maybe…

Kwazhak turned around with a moon slash, a crescent shape. Miss Saya shouldn’t have to fight this man, he thought. No one should, except for the ones that started this.

“Woah… Are you a noble? And you can speak Azu?...”

“I’m not a prince. I’m Kwa-”

“Le Prince! Alright, that’s your name!”

He believed in L’s cause, for when he first met him, he was a junior Kesat officer showing him around the Azu capital. Advocating to save the lives of people who’d been taken away by Kazaàd companies. Modern slavery. A stain of humanity discovered since the scrolls of Ragye.

Now Kwazhak fought to enter the same thing he had wanted to fight against. More attacks slipped past his parries and grazed his arms and face. Blood mixed with sweat dripped down his neck.

“Dihu Baohu.”

A shield appeared behind his back as he rushed towards Thiệu to slice his way through. A cluster of particles placed weight on Kwazhak’s block, but he rooted himself to the ground and pushed forward.