27Chapter 2
Perseus watched, silent and unimpressed, as one of the Silver-Eyed Witches single-handedly defeated the other Claymores and whisked the child away from the man in black.
He expected more from them, but, from what he had heard, she was the current Number 1 of this world's "security force", so he wasn't too disturbed with how easily the other Claymores were cut down. This Teresa character didn't even bother killing them; just choosing to render them useless for the time being. Which was good, but still didn't make the fight interesting. Percy had come to realize that he had a small craving for battle during his time in this world, but wasn't too surprised why.
Percy stood up from his sitting position against one of the large rocks. 'Well, that was disappointing.' He shook his head. 'Might as well follow her. Maybe she can lead me to the next town.' With that said, Percy disappeared into vapor from his place high above the execution site.
About an hour later
Percy calmly walked into a village that the Claymore and the the young girl entered. It was a small village hidden in the mountains. The sun was high and the sky was clear. The air was calm as it blew against his cloak, making it billow in the wind.
Once entering, Percy took note of the large crowd that formed a wide circle around a Yoma gripping the shirt of a young boy.
Making sure his aura was masked and his power undetectable, Percy walked towards the commotion, completely intending to blend in with the townsfolk.
"Someone save that boy!" a woman called from somewhere in the crowd.
Percy was about to unsheathe his sword and kill the Yoma, but he paused as he watched Teresa remove her light blue cloak with a dramatic flourish, letting it sail through the air. The town's people began to predictably whisper in surprise at seeing a Claymore in their village.
Teresa strolled forward with her hand on her hip and a small smile on her face. "Damn…and here I was ready to relax, but you've ruined it." She scoffed. "You Yoma can be such a nuisance."
The Yoma roared, pushing the boy onto the ground, before charging the Number 1 head on, only to swiftly loose its head in a single stroke of a blade. Purple blood painted the dirt floor as the loud thump of a body was heard.
Percy watched as Teresa frowned, flicking her sword in the air to remove the purple liquid and sheathed her claymore across her back. She moved to turn around but stopped in her tracks once the crowd began to cheer.
Percy smiled faintly and clapped with them.
He watched as an elderly man with a large nose, bushy mustache, bald head, and more bushy hair ringing his scull continuously thanked her. The man – who Percy assumed was the town leader – promised Teresa that he would collect the proper payment befitting the assistance of the Organization's warriors, but was rejected by the Claymore. Instead, at Teresa's request, the town's people were more than happy to give her, and the child accompanying her, a room in the town's best inn.
Not even five minutes passed as the crowd dispersed, the towns people choosing to return to their previous activities.
Percy breathed a sigh, 'Finally, a bed.' He entered the same inn that Teresa was allowed to stay in and rented one of the rooms. He didn't have to sleep, but after walking so much without an actual place to rest, he really wanted to take a nap.
During his time in this strange world, he had discovered that this place was completely different from his own. The gods he once knew did not exist. The only form of divinity were statues of gods and goddesses, and the town of Rabona being thought of as a place of worshipping. If only the mortals knew that there were no actual gods here. Only the natural forces of the universe. He even checked by expanding his senses throughout this universe in search of anything divine and powerful.
There was nothing divine, but there were some serious powerhouses in the North, South, and West of the rather large continent. There were also some powerful creatures somewhere else on the planet, but Percy didn't really care about them too much. They were FAR away.
Percy began to remember the moment when he was first sent to this strange world through some Star Wars-looking portal thing the Olympians made, he landed about a half a mile away from the Holy City.
Disoriented and confused, he decided to venture there choosing to take refuge in the first shelter he could find.
He had yet to fully understand the scope of his power, though, so once he stepped foot into the city, everyone felt the heavy power that radiated off of his body.
Some were fearful for their lives, others were bowing in reverence as they preached that "The Lord had come and that he would forever protect their city".
Percy, completely caught off guard by the suddenness of the moment, was frozen in place like a deer caught in headlights. He remembered how he was immediately whisked away by one of the priests and taken into the church.
The man was so happy with Percy being there, that Percy almost forgot that he was just bowed to by an entire city. Emphasis on "almost" because he was suddenly reminded of such happenings when a whole bunch of old men came into the large, stone room and began bowing to him and calling him "Lord."
Percy felt awkward as he just stood their dumbly with his mouth half open in shock and his eyes wide.
It took him about a minute and a half to fully process his situation before he quickly told them to stop bowing and to never do that to him again. Unsurprisingly, the Priests took every one of his words to heart. They even showered him in over exaggerated praises, and they even gave him a throne to sit on.
The head Priest practically shoved him into it in excitement. Percy also noticed how the man looked like he just succeeded in his purpose in life. Well, he probably did when he shoved the young god into the oversized and overly decorated chair at the head of the cathedral where Father Vincent does those prayer things with the people who were allowed inside.
Percy was forced to stay there for three weeks pretending to be their God so that they would peacefully leave him alone when he told him he "wanted to go out and explore their world for a little while."
Thankfully, they gave him a sword, the cloak, traveling clothes, a bow and arrows, and enough money to last him a month in an expensive inn with a large farewell party that was hosted right smack-dab in the middle of the Holy City.
He wasn't planning on using much of the money, though. The only time he actually used this world's currency was when he rented the room in the inn he's in right now.
Speaking of the room he's in, it was a small, wooden room that only contained what someone needed to live comfortably: a bed, a desk, nightstand, lanterns, and one window facing the entrance of the village. Simple and cozy, just how he liked it.
Percy was currently sprawled out on the bed with his cloak neatly folded at his feet.
He sighed. What was he going to do now? He's definitely not going back to Rabona for a while. He didn't want to be reminded of the very reason he was imprisoned here in the first place. Percy sighed again, then shifted on the bed so that he was on his side. He stared blankly at the wooden wall parallel to the bed. His eyes shined in the dark, changing colors every second.
He hated his eyes.
Ever since the priests took him to under the cathedral and forced him to remove his cloak, they wouldn't leave him alone once they saw his eyes.
The only way he could get them to calm down and stop staring at his face was by threatening to put the cloak back on and never showing them again. Obviously, Percy was fine with that, but the priests felt the exact opposite. They apologized saying that they would never stare at them again the way they did before as long as he never covered them.
The bishop had even said that they loved how the colors changed every second and that his eyes were "like a clear pond filled with jewels, jewels that carried the deepest secrets of the universe", but luckily enough, the staring stopped, but Percy still caught the occasional glance and the poorly hidden awe that showed on their faces when he passed by.
Percy shivered at the memories. They had him dress in their finest clothing. Clothing meant for a king.
He was so thankful that he was able to escape that terrible experience.
Personally, it was close to how Tartarus felt when he first fell into the Pit all those years ago; torturous and terrifying.
On the bright side of things, he was able to get the hang of his powers. Sure there were a few accidental earthquakes, surprise tsunami's that appeared out of nowhere, and some heatwaves, but it was all good in the end. He even found out that he could become, in a sense of the word, omnipresent.
That was cool. Completely accidental, but cool.
Though he did practically give the entire town a few heart attacks, and the priests even begged him to stop wreaking havoc upon their Holy City.
Percy mentally scoffed at their way to still sound like they were praising him as they asked him to stop but gave them a heartfelt apology anyways. He didn't want to scare them even more by telling them that he was a complete novice in the list of powerful deities.
Percy groaned out loud as he shifted to that his stomach faced the mattress. Why did the gods have to send him there? Was it some form of revenge for him being so "dangerous"? Or was it a complete coincidence that he landed a mile from a city who basically made him their Parton god.
"Bastards." He spat, voice muffled the pillow. "Sending me here because they were scared of me. They might as well have sent me back to Tartarus if they had purposefully sent me to Rabona. By the gods was that a stressful experience." He continued speaking as he shifted to his side gain, now facing the window that showed the evening sky. "Too dangerous", my ass. I was the one to save your damn thrones, you ungrateful brats. Nearly died while doing it, too." Percy then sighed in acceptance. "I didn't even get to say goodbye. I wonder what everyone's doing right now. Are they upset with me being sent here? Are they happy about it? Or were they kept ignorant of the event, left to think that I had purposefully disappeared?"
Percy growled in annoyance, ferociously grabbed his pillow and launched it across the room in a small fit of well-placed anger.
The pillow flew across the room right onto the empty flower pot on the wooden desk, knocking it to the ground. Once it made contact with the wooden planks, it shattered into pieces with a loud crash.
"Woops." He mumbled. Percy lazily stood up from the bed and walked towards the fallen pot. 'At least it was empty.' Percy looked around the room for any suspicious figures lurking in the shadows, then turned back to the broken pottery at his feet.
Percy scratched the growing stubble on his chin in thought. Maybe if he just used his time domain to fix the pot. Nodding to himself, he crouched down and rested his pointer finger on one of the duller shards. He closed eyes in concentration as he willed time around the clay pot to reverse itself so that it seemed that it didn't break in the first place.
Percy kept his eyes closed as a small golden light surrounded the pot until it looked like it did before Percy had thrown a pillow at it.
Percy cracked an eye open to inspect his work. Proud of his ability to fix his mistake, he picked up the pot and placed it back onto the desk. Sighing (he noticed that he was doing that a lot) he grabbed the feather-filled-sack-of-fluff from the floor and set it back on the bed.
Percy looked at the bed, then at the window, then back to the bed, then back to the window. Bed, window, bed, window. He kept his gaze on the window as he saw that it was still sunny outside. He then looked back at the bed then grumbled, "I wasn't even tired anyways."
He unfolded his cloak, put it on, and pulled the hood over his head to cover his eyes. 'Time to go exploring.' With that thought in mind, he sheathed his sword at his waste, making sure it was perfectly hidden by the cloak, then walked out the door, into the hallway, then down the stairs into the lobby.
He nodded at the inn keeper, telling the younger male that he was going out, then promptly left the vicinity, and into the village that was yet to be explored by the bored deity.
With Teresa a few minutes after she killed the Yoma
Clare was giggling at Teresa who was currently sitting at the edge of the bed next to hers.
Teresa rose her left eyebrow, amused. "What's so funny?"
Clare giggled again before deciding to answer the Number 1's question. "Well, that's the first time I've seen you so surprised." Clare grinned. "I've never seen you look like that before. You thought they wouldn't welcome you."
Teresa closed her eyes and huffed out of her mouth. "Heh." She opened her eyes and looked back at Clare. "Well, that was the first time anyone's been so grateful." Teresa turned her head to look forward at the fire place. "Before, I took fees that the towns and villages couldn't afford. That seemed only natural, but it felt good to save people from Yoma without the reward."
Clare frowned, but the frown quickly turned into a smile when she got an idea. Going by that idea, she shuffled from her bed to Teresa's. "Teresa?" Teresa was surprised by Clare suddenly coming to her bed. "Can I sleep with you? Can I?"
Teresa rose a questioning eyebrow at Clare's question. "But there are two beds. Why try squeezing into one?" Clare didn't respond as her head lay on Teresa's lap. "Hey…" she said but realized that the young girl was sleeping. "Heh, she said she didn't need a bed, but she fell asleep the moment she lay down in one." Teresaaffectionatelypat the brunette's head. "Sleep well. We'll rest here awhile."
(I'm following the manga. Bear with me.)
Not even an hour passed when Teresa suddenly felt three strange Yoma auras entering the town. Her head turned towards the window so fast she nearly had whiplash. She made sure Clare was still asleep before moving towards the window.
She looked outside; it was still noon and the sun had yet to set in the west. She observed the crowded streets bellow.
Nothing, but she could still fell the Yoki flowing in the bodies of the three warriors as they were entering the village.
'They're probably my comrades, and they're strong.' Teresa hid beside the window. 'So they're the slayers who've been sent to punish me.' She could sense them getting closer. She could faintly make out who they were, but it was still hazy. 'Got to suppress my Yoki aura so they won't know I'm here.' Teresa closed her eyes as she concentrated on suppressing her aura. 'Can't let them find me. Just walk on by…' but she opened her eyes in acceptance. 'But you're not the kind to do that are you?' she asked herself.
She listened closely to the sounds outside. Using her acute sense of hearing to make out the words being said by the Organization's warriors outside the inn.
"This is it?" one of them asked.
"Yes." Said another. This one more familiar than the first.
"Pretty fancy place she's holed up in." came the third.
"Let's go." Said the second.
Teresa listened as she heard the door of the inn open and the clip-clomping of armor against wood.
"Forgive the intrusion." Said the second Claymore as she was going up the lobby stairs.
Teresa could hear the protests of the Inn Keeper as he questioned the strange woman who just barged into his Inn.
Teresa heard one of the other warriors talking to the Inn Keeper and a faint clinking. The Faint Smile quickly gathered her armor. She put on her sabatons, pauldrons, and vambraces, but was interrupted by the door slamming open. Teresa smiled condescendingly at her old friend. "Ah, it's been a while, Ilena. You're looking well."
The elfin-warrior narrowed her cold eyes at the Faint Smile. "I've come for your head, Teresa."
Teresa smirked. "We'll see about that."
At the witty remark, Ilena activated her Quicksword technique, rendering the doorway to pieces as her near-unmoving arm slashed at Teresa.
Teresa, still smirking, continuously dodged each strike with speeds that made her look unmoving. She glanced at Clare's sleeping form. "I don't mind you using your Quicksword, but leave the girl out of it."
Ilena kept her cold gaze on Teresa as she used the fighting technique she was nicknamed after. "Don't worry, it'll be over before she wakes.
SWISH!
CLANG!
Out of nowhere, Teresa brought her claymore out of Hammerspace and blocked Ilena's sword in an 'X'.
Teresa smirked, eyebrow raised at Ilena's expression of shock at her Quicksword being blocked. "What's wrong? Your sword seems stuck." With speeds faster than the naked eye could see the two warriors fought to the death.
The loud clanging reverberated across the room as metal hit metal.
Teresa noticed the knit eyebrows and the worry in the eyes of her adversary. "You've gotten better, but you're still not good enough."
The sound of clashing swords soon woke young Clare from her blissful slumber. Clare lifted her torso with her arms on the pillow and observed the fight in worry. "Teresa."