A handso elf carrying a bow watched a commotion a few ters from him on the more insecure parts of the streets of Valerion.
He leaned on a counter holding a wooden mug of so alcoholic beverage.
Next to him was a one-eyed beastkin man. Their eyes were on a small boy with dark hair and icy blue eyes as he stood off against three rugged-looking n.
"Hehehe... he’s not going to provoke them. No one’s that stupid..."
The elf, called Back to Back, smiled.
Taking a sip of his drink, he said, "I bet ten zeni he will."
"You’re ga," the beastkin replied, knowing the street children of Valerion were always working toward self-preservation.
Before he could say more, the dark-haired boy kicked straight at the groin of one of the n.
Back to Back smiled, already expecting that outco.
He opened his palm. "Pay up."
The one-eyed beastkin snickered, then passed a coin to the elf, his expression irritated and his pride wounded from misjudging a common street child.
He watched as the rugged n helped the one on his knees up, surrounding the boy.
"They’ll have him crying and begging for rcy in minutes..."
The elf chuckled, looking at the sun in the sky.
"Wanna bet?"
The beastkin sneered. "What are the stakes?"
Back to Back glanced at the boy. Even here he could see the coldness in his blue eyes and the tremble in his little fists. He was afraid of course, but that little runt was different.
"I bet he won’t cry or beg no matter what they do."
"Ten thousand zeni," the beastkin called out, confident he already won the bet.
Back to Back raised a finger, downing his drink.
"Twenty thousand. And drinks are on you. We’ll be here a while."
And just as he had expected, the rugged n ganged up on the little boy, kicking and punching his small form while shouting slurs.
Even as he was kicked down, his body bruised, swollen, and lying against the cracked pavent, he still didn’t beg or cry.
He spoke back, insulted, and cursed at them with all the venom in his little heart.
The beastkin narrowed his eyes. He got up, having watched enough, and marched toward the n, placing a hand on the shoulder of one of them to stop them.
"What do you think you’re doing, you fucking bastards?"
They glanced at him, but he pointed at the dark-haired boy.
"Use sticks and beat him properly."
The n took his words with a nod. After all, he was stronger.
This was the harsh slums of Valerion. No one was coming to save so street child. It was already a rcy that little thieves like him didn’t get lynched.
The beastkin went back and took another drink next to the elf.
The sounds of sticks hamring against the little boy echoed out. Soon the sticks broke and more were used. By the ti the sun had set there was a pile of bloody sticks.
The boy was kept conscious just so he would beg, but he never did. His swollen body lay in a pool of his own blood.
The three n were on their rears, heaving and sweating.
Back to Back stood up, looking at the setting sun.
He walked up to the barely conscious boy—Damon.
Throwing him on his shoulders, he smiled at the beastkin, who with gritted teeth took out a pouch of coins.
Tossing it to Back to Back, the elf smiled as he took his pay.
"Oh, cover my tab. I drank a bit since I knew you were paying."
The beastkin narrowed his eyes.
"What the hell is wrong with that thing you’re carrying?"
Back to Back glanced at the boy beaten black and blue on his shoulders.
"Ah, you think he’s nuts too? Well, it’s a nice introduction to our very own Phantom. He’s a pretty nasty kid, so you boys might want to watch what you wear from now on."
He leaned closer.
"It would be a sha if so nut job put flay powder in your clothes."
As soon as he turned a corner carrying the boy, he heard shrieks of pain.
He glanced at the boy on his shoulder.
"When did you put flay powder in their clothes?"
The boy, with half-open swollen eyes, muttered, "Just... now..." He groaned painfully.
Back to Back smiled, carrying him like a sack.
"Hey, we won ten zeni. I’ll give you half. I’m sure you’re grateful. Buy your little sister sothing nice."
The boy tried to move his body to strangle the elf. He knew the bet was twenty thousand zeni, but Back to Back was giving him only five.
His struggle was nothing. All the elf did was touch his swollen leg, and Damon winced in pain.
"That’s gonna swell... but don’t worry, I have a potion. Of course, you’ll be in debt, but who else but lends you money? The interest is eighty percent as usual."
Damon’s mind was fading into blackness. Still, he muttered his intent.
"I’ll kill... you... I’ll kill you... I swear..."
Back to Back stopped, looking at the boy beaten half to death.
"You are one tenacious runt. I’d hate to be forced into a battle of attrition against this little monster."
He moved him from his shoulders into his arms and poured a potion into his mouth.
"You better not grow up to be a killer. That would be a disaster for everyone else."
This was a distant mory.
Back to Back was long dead, killed by Damon’s hands. He would not live to see what Damon beca.
However, even now, Damon could not help but think of that day. It was not a particularly special day. If anything, it had been fairly common.
He was a master of losing and taking a beating, but he was always left standing at the end.
No matter who it was.
Even if he was faced with the Dominator. Even this demon lord would not break him.
He was afraid, he had always been, but he was also unwilling to admit that before his foe.
All he did was endure, persevere.
And so, knowing that this may be his final battle, he charged forward knowing this might be his final foe.
No... this would be his latest obstacle.
"I will overco this wall."
With a sound like tens of explosions mixed together, he clashed with Ashcroft.
He had always been like this — terrified, outmatched, but too stubborn to break.
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