Swamps are identified by many features, most of them unpleasant. All factors were present this day, and all were noted with annoyance by the only man moving through it at this time. The thick, humid air did not make for easy breathing, and his skin was slicked with sweat, a combination of the heat and his heavy garments. The water vapor level in the air was also fairly high, which added even more dampness. The going was tough, marred by large puddles of often-unidentifiable depths, fallen trees, and mud. And perhaps worst of all were the bugs.
The man let out a sharp curse as he swatted another mosquito. They were brutal in the morning, and he reminded himself again that he should have remembered that. However, his mind was a blur. So much had happened and so much had yet to happen, and he could not stop to rest. He had to keep going down this predetermined path. Others might travel it, yes, but only he could reach the end. That was what that pig President had failed to understand.
He was a powerfully built man of exceptional height, and was dressed in flowing black garments. His long silver hair trailed behind him like a platinum cape, and at his side was a long sword that was possibly eight feet long. His bright green eyes darted this way and that, expertly searching for any signs of danger, one in particular. The old man at the farm had been especially careful to point out that the snake fed at dawn, and had protested forcefully when he had set out anyway. A fool might disregard the warning as the rants of an old man, but he was no fool. “The snake” was not just a worm with an attitude; it was serpentine death…with an attitude.
The traveler trudged on with little difficulty, however, and could now finally make out his destination, the Mythril Mines. He hadn’t been in those caverns in a very long time, though he still had a mental map in his head. Once through those caves he would head to the port city Junon. From there it was a short boat ride across the ocean and he was home free. Provided he beat the conglomerates. He doubted he’d be able to slip through quietly if they got to the boats first. After all, he’d killed their President.
He froze instinctively, eyes scanning the area. There was definite movement in the waters ahead, and it was headed his way. As if on cue, the sun broke through the trees and lit up the waters. What the traveler saw caused him to halt his breathing. A shadow was moving towards him, rapidly, as if the water wasn’t even there. It was a good fifty feet long, ten feet wide…and serpentine. The man gave the shadow a grin of anticipation; it had been a while since he’d had a decent battle, and if this was what he thought it was… He raised his hand, palm outwards, at an area of the water that he anticipated the head of the snake to be at in a few seconds and muttered a few incomprehensible words and closed his eyes as if in a trance. A greenish curtain of energies surrounded him and the waters that were his target seemed to darken. The giant snake reached the spot just as it happened. A giant bolt of supercharged lightning crashed down on the area, even ripping apart the ground beneath the waters, frying the snake’s large head in the process. The water, being water, instantly flared up as electricity from the magic spell, called Bolt3, shot through it. The traveler stood there unfazed, letting the electricity channel up his body into the thick metal band around his arm as if attracted by a magnet. The band, called a Bangle, absorbed the discharge completely.
Midgar Zolom. That was the name of the snake that guarded the only passage from the capital of this continent to the other side of it. The creature let out a strange sound that could be considered a roar and sprang at its attacker, fully intending to swallow him whole. The traveler, expecting such a move, sprang with catlike agility out of the serpent’s reach. Again, with this inhuman speed, he leapt back to the battleground near the perplexed creature, this time reaching for the long sword at his side. In a flash, the long, sharp blade was poised at the monster’s exposed body. In another flash, the sword was in it.
The Zolom let out a shriek of its unique noise, thrashing about, its weight lifting the traveler clear off the ground. Swamp water drenched both combatants each time the beast flailed. With a flick of his wrist, the swordsman dislodged the weapon and fell from the thrashing creature, landing on his feet and springing back once more.
Midgar Zolom rose to its full height, with only its very bottom still submerged. It was, as the rumors told, roughly fifty feet high and ten feet around. It bared its fangs, two huge venomous daggers that looked like they could impale a mountain. The traveler easily understood why it was the scourge of the continent. Chanting again, the man surrounded himself with energies, staring directly at the Zolom’s head. Seconds later, a great nova of fire erupted from the exact same spot on which the traveler concentrated, sending the serpent crashing back into the depths.
For a while, all was quiet. The waters boiled and bubbled around the spot where the snake had collapsed. Soon, it became clear to the traveler that the water would never boil so long because of his Fire3 spell. There was something else going on. His conjecture was proven when the swamp water began to glow a light red color. Bracing for what had to be an attack of the fire element, the traveler checked his all-absorbing armor bangle to make sure it was still in tact. The water grew hotter and hotter until little beads of sweat trickled down the man’s heavy garments, increasing the unpleasant, damp feeling.
The water parted to the right of the traveler, and from it sprang that giant snake, hissing furiously. This time, a swirling column of red energies, like a little crimson tornado, surrounded it. It wasn’t long before the fire fell upon the dark traveler, exploding into a fury of pyrotechnics. Flares of bright, red lights engulfed the battleground, and the Midgar Zolom struck once more, darting to where the trespasser had disappeared in the fiery tornado. Fangs bared, it moved to kill.
What it found was a soggy trespasser, rising from the swamp water that had saved him. Again, with that incredible agility, he flung his sword out at the demon, aiming directly for the eyes. The beast had no time to pull back.
In a brilliant flash of steel, the Masamune claimed another life.
Silence returned to the swamp. Crickets chirped their happy song, frogs croaked their mating ballad, and the trickle of water down some hidden nook brought a sense of serenity.
Ten minutes later, the traveler looked up at the scourge of the continent. Impaled upon a massive wooden stake carved from a tree near the mines was the Midgar Zolom, the latest trophy of the swordsman bearing Masamune. Smiling in satisfaction, the traveler fastened his weapon to his belt and savored the moment. This was his prime. He’d assassinated the most powerful man on the planet, destroyed the largest monster in the area, and now he was heading for what had to be eternal glory.
Do those who dissent choose to pursue…? Have they not learned by now exactly what will happen to them? Here is another message to the world…to all the enemies of the Ancients…and Mother. The time has come; the time is now.
His plan and destination in mind, the Black Caped Man spun on his heel and started on the trail to eternity.