FicWad

The Sins of Our Fathers
Part 3, Chapter 1

Even the gates had changed in this fractured state of the time line. Instead of being a blue wormhole slowly flowing from dark to light and back and forth numerous times, the wormhole seemed static; flowing in spurts instead of a stream. The color had also shifted from blue to red, and the lightning like bursts that had existed in the gate he had made what seemed decades ago were in these gates as well. It seemed that Gaspar and Spekkio were correct in being concerned; Janus certainly was becoming more and more concerned with each passing moment.
He still couldn't shake the feeling that something about himself was different. He wasn't sure what exactly had changed about himself, but Janus was certain that the guru had seemed almost amused at the fact that Janus was acting a bit oddly. Oh well, he knew that as much as he had forgot, he was still himself, and that he would still be able to collect those that he needed and thwart his other self's plans. And if he couldn't he would die trying.
The end of the wormhole came abruptly, sending Janus head over heels, tumbling into the base of a tree. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the haze from his vision, but when he reopened his eyes he found that it wasn't his eyesight that was hazy, it was his surroundings. Everything was upside down, but Janus could tell that this future was much different than the one he had come to know in his travels with Crono and the others. Crono...he could remember the name, but as for a face...so many swirled through his mind, but he couldn't connect the name to any of the faces. Could this be yet another side effect of the time line fracturing? It was a startling thought which Janus pondered as he rose to his feet. When he was standing he looked around in attempt to find some bearing as to where he was located.
The place seemed somewhat familiar, but just like most everything else lately Janus knew that it was much different as well. He stood in the middle of a giant forest of half dead trees. Leaves were shriveled and burnt orange, hanging from the branches by mere stubbornness. The sky was covered in a gray haze which nearly covered the entire sky and in effect blocking a good portion of the sun's light.
Janus racked his memory in an attempt to puzzle out his location. Oh yes, this was the forest near the cathedral wasn't it?...Was it? Yes he was almost certain that it was. So now that he had some sort of bearing, he headed towards where the city of Truce should be. As he walked, Janus noticed that there was next to no movement in the forest around him. Usually there were all sorts of birds and small-minded mystics running about, but this seemed not to be the case anymore. His movements were relatively quick unless he had to pause and pull his cloak from one of the many tree branches that seemed to reach out towards him as he made his way toward the human town.
The closer he got to the edge of the forest, the more Janus himself began to become more and more on edge. The long dead remains of thousands of creatures; human and mystic, lay scattered among the landscape. As he left the confines of the forest, Janus realized that outside the forest would be much more dangerous than he had previously thought; another opposite provided by this time fracture. In the distance Janus heard a shriek that was followed a good five moments or so afterward by a roar of some kind of beast. He arched an eyebrow as he surveyed his surroundings. Such a thing that could make a noise as loud as that was surely ten times as big as a house, and he had no memory of anything that big in this time period. Perhaps things were worse than he had first suspected.
It was then that he decided that it would be better if he not dawdle. And so he began sprinting towards the village; hopping between the bones of dead soldiers and victims all the while. As he was doing so he felt a presence closing from behind. As he turned his head ever so slightly he could see the ground breaking up and falling into nothingness behind him. The blast was increasing greatly in speed, but right when it would have hit him, Janus jumped to the right. The blast flew by the mage and exploded into the remains of a large tree. The tree exploded on contact and the few pieces that were left fell into the rift below.
Janus perched upon the top of another dead tree and scanned the area for his assailer. For what seemed an eternity he saw nothing until finally another one of the vicious attacks flew towards him from the left, tearing upon the landscape. Again he was able to evade the attack, but his attacker had grown smarter and sent another attack towards his landing spot. Janus threw up his arms to shield his face as his eyes grew in surprise. The attack was as vicious as it looked, tearing at all parts of Janus; clothing, armor, and worst of all his skin and bandages. He screamed in agony before he began to feel himself falling and suddenly something from within took over. Magic raced through every part of his being and Janus felt separate from himself; as if another entity now controlled his movements. He moved with more grace and agility than he could ever remember him doing before, and he was soon out from under the wind-like attack and back on top the open land. His head turned to the right and it was then he regained control, and as soon as he did he saw his attacker.
It was a man-like Mystic, resembling someone Janus himself had once known long ago. He could not remember the name of the Mystic he had known as his memories were as jumbled as this time, but he had known him. The man had reptilian-like skin that was purple in color, and his ears were tall and pointed like this of a storybook character. The man had a cocky smile plastered over his face and on his hip sat the sheath to the long katana he held in his right hand.
"Hn. Humans are not allowed to carry a weapon dog, surrender your blade or die on that of the great Slash line!"
Janus grinned. That was where he had heard the name. Slash; the jealous swordsman of the time 600 AD. It made sense that in this new timeline the descendent of Slash would be remarkably similar to the Mystic. Unfortunately for Slash though this young pup was much younger than his ancestor.
"If you want my blade you'll have to take it from me." Janus replied as he placed both his hands together; grappling them so that only his thumbs and pointer fingers sat next to one another. His thumb was directed at his face and his pointer fingers towards the sky above him, so that he was taking the position similar to a monk. The young Slash reacted just as Janus had anticipated. Memories flooded into Janus' memory, threatening to take over once again, but now that he was experienced with the feeling he shrugged the wave of colors and sounds away to the back of his mind, pulling only what he needed from the wave and forming it to his use. The young Mystic roared a short war cry and charged towards Janus. He lifted his sword and pulled it back down with lightning speed; creating the wave attack that had assaulted Janus earlier.
"Wave Slash Attack!"
Janus' grin grew even larger though his mask hid the expression from his attacker. The three waves of wind energy soared towards Janus who threw his palms out towards the oncoming attack. "Hn, primitive. Prism Wall!"
The waves of energy sent out by the sword of the Slash struck a wall of energy of Janus' creation. The multicolored energy barrier did its job of blocking the Mystic's attack and in effect stunning it for a moment, giving Janus the opportunity to strike. Quickly he reached into his robe with his right hand and pulled out his scythe which grew from its miniature size to its full size as it left its' magic holster. He twirled his weapon as he sprung backwards.
As he did so he could see the smoke from the Mystic's failed attack swirl as the Slash darted through his barrier. The barrier was created for magic only, but Janus was certain that the Mystic would believe he was more powerful than it, and overconfidence was a powerful ally. The Slash had soon closed the gap and slashed at Janus' throat with his sword. Janus twirled his scythe so that the shaft met the attack and he grinned, and at this distance he was certain that the Mystic could see.
Exhilaration rushed through Janus' body, and though he had only been defending himself, somehow it was bringing back much more than his memories of fighting styles and magic. He pushed another set of the memories that attacked him in swirls of colors to the side and readied himself. The Slash foolishly closed the distance and sneered when he saw Janus twirl his scythe to a supporting position behind his back. However the confident smile vanished from his face when Janus raised his left arm to eye level with the Slash and focused his magic.
A ball of brilliant white light quickly gathered before Janus uttered the spell that let the energy free from its' invisible harness. "Electro Blast!" he yelled. As he did so the energy shot towards the Mystic and exploded on contact, sending a blinding ray of light all around the two. Janus shielded his eyes from the light with his cloak and as soon as he felt the shockwave subside he lowered his garment to find nothing but a smoldering, headless body where the Slash had once stood. He stood over the body for a moment pitying the foolish man, but he had given Janus very little choice. He prayed that the man would be taken into the afterlife for a brief moment before deciding that he should be off towards Truce; before more Mystics appeared.

"Crono....Crono....Wake up Crono!" Crono yawned sleepily as he opened his eyes and stretched out his body. Yet another day in this hell of a place, and he supposed that midafternoon was as good a time as any to wakeup. He rolled over and looked up at the woman standing over his bead, and by the looks of her she was about ready to clobber him with a rolling pin. He gave her a look of contempt asking what she wanted, but she just snorted as she walked away.
"Damn boy is that all you do? Sleep?" he heard her mutter as she exited his room. He contemplated rolling back over and going back to sleep but he had a feeling that his mother wouldn't be too pleased with him if he did that. She may even try to get him a real job again. He shuddered at the thought. So it was decided, another day of nothing would begin now.
He threw the thin, tattered remnants of blankets he had to cover himself off his body and he kicked his legs off the bed. As he stood he stretched his arms towards the ceiling with yet another nod and as he did so pain lanced through his right shoulder. He winced as he grabbed for his pained shoulder and staggered to the lone piece of furniture in the room; a small, three-legged chair that had his clothing heaped atop of it. He picked up bits of clothing one by one and put them on, taking extra care to put as little stress on that shoulder as possible. The doctor had told him to stop fighting after he had dislocated it, but that was almost a month past and he had no choice but to fight. He and his mother needed money, and fighting was all that he was really good at. Besides, if he fought he had a chance to make a little money, burn a little steam, and have ample time for booze and women afterwards. And if that wasn't the most blissful life a human could have, he'd be damned.
The first to come on were his black trousers, followed by his dirt brown long-sleeved tunic, black t-shirt, and black belt. He had always been one for black; after all it matched his hair and his eyes, but it also provided a little bit more cloak to the ever watching eyes of the Mystics. More than once his dark clothing had saved his skin when running from the patrols after a night of illegal fighting and gambling. He scowled at the thought of the Mystics. The damn reptiles made his blood boil. If only those fools would realize that Lucca was dead. If they'd let her be the martyr she was to him instead of the example that the Mystics wanted her to be. His eyes watered at the thought of his good friend and companion, but he steeled himself as he approached a small bowl full of water that sat in the corner. His mother wasn't as grumpy as she acted, Crono had always known this. She just put on a good act. Deep down he knew that she mourned for her husband, his father, who had been taken away by the Mystics and never heard from again, and that the death of Lucca had tore open old wounds she carried deep inside, and he also knew that she worried about him; which was the real reason she strove to get him away from fighting. But he refused to work for those damn reptiles.
Looking down at his reflection he wondered about what life would be like in another place. Was the whole world in agony as he was? His face was as scarred as his emotions, the result of numerous bar brawls, fight nights, and fights with the Mystic patrols. He was glad for each of these scars though because with the addition of one it became that much harder to identify him; which was part of the reason the Mystics left him alone. The other reason was none of the powerful Mystics cared about him enough to come out of their castle, and they didn't have enough peons to take him down. He grinned at that, a face that lit up his mother's eyes whenever she saw it. Crono had a feeling that it was something to do with his father, but he had long given up trying to remember sentimental things.
After he had washed he made his way to the room that served as kitchen, dining area, and living area. Even here there wasn't much in the way of furniture. Two small, uneven chairs and a table that looked as if it would turn to dust right then. No, they didn't have much, but it was enough and more than many other families in the kingdom had. Many families were forced into 'indentured' servitude by many of the Mystics just so they could eat the animals' scraps, but Crono's fighting had put just enough meat on the table that neither of the two had been forced to do that...yet.
Money in the kingdom was becoming scarce, and if this shoulder didn't heal soon, Crono feared he may actually lose a fight. Something that could actually give his mother some ground to stand on when she begged him to get a real job. As he sat on the chair he grinned broadly at his mother; his way of saying good morning and she smiled back at him. He knew she wasn't really angry. She grabbed something from the top of the wood stove that was their cooking place and heater, and set in on the table in front of him.
"It's not much but..." she said as he reached for the plate, on top of which stood a small stack of meat strips. There were only two strips of meat on the plate no wider than his hand and probably about half as thick. He took his piece and placed it on the table in front of him. He ate the meat slowly in strips, savoring each bite of the meal that would have to last him until after his fight tonight. When the strip was about half gone he noticed that his mother had finished and was fondly staring at him...no...past him. He resisted the urge to look behind him and instead stood yawning. He then looked at the piece of dry meat in his hand and set it on the plate which he then pushed to his mother.
"Crono no, I..." She pushed the plate back towards him but he shook his head and pushed it to her yet again. He then motioned to the door and waved goodbye. As he grabbed his heavy black coat and headed out the door he heard her call goodbye. He put his coat on and zipped up what possibly was Lucca's greatest invention; the zipper. The coat was a little snug about the collar, but it was very comfortable, and very warm and that's what counted. He shoved his hands in the coat pockets as he walked down the street towards the bar. A few feet into his trip his stomach began to rumble. That meat hadn't been enough, but his mother needed the food more than he...that was his rationalization and he would stick to it until he died of starvation. Silently he wondered if the man down here at the bar would ever run out of fights. If that happened...he shook off the thought. The guy was secret; all the fighters knew that and not many of them would ever talk about anything after Crono was done with them.
The bar came up as quickly as the wind which bit into Crono's cheeks and tossed his long hair around in his face. He removed his right hand from its' pocket and brushed his hair out of his eyes just as he reached the front door of the Truce's finest...and only, bar. He opened the door which brought a bout of cold air that blew threw the room bringing up curses from all four corners of the bar. The muttering stopped though when the men saw who it was that came through the doors.
"Crono! My good silent friend, what'll it be? Oh wait, don't tell me, a pint of straight ale and a meeting with you-know-who." Crono nodded and the man smiled. "At least I know one of my customers well enough to get that right." He said with a wink.
Crono rolled his eyes as he sat at the bar, alone and face to face with Murray the bartender. The man had known Crono for quite sometime now, and he was probably the only friend that Crono had left now that Lucca was gone. He took the large cup of ale and downed it in a few seconds. He then reached into his pocket and placed a copper coin on the counter. Murray took the coin and placed it in a bag under the counter. He then nodded his head towards the door behind the counter and came to the counter's entrance and undid the lock. He then lifted the counter and Crono ducked through. As soon as he was, Murray slammed the counter back down and locked it shut. It wouldn't stop people from coming over the top, but it was a little security.
Murray then grabbed the coin purse from beneath the counter and led Crono through the locked door behind the counter. Once again, when they were through he turned and relocked the door. "So how's the shoulder champ?" he asked as he grabbed a torch from the wall and started down the passage.
Crono looked to the man and rolled his arm in a circle a little, trying not to wince too much. He must have been though because Murray's look quickly saddened. "Well reverse your stance a bit today, don't think Valence has anybody that'll be a challenge on the list today. And keep 'em quick, last week you nearly gave me a heart attack by toying around with those nobodies." Crono looked up to his friend and grinned, but the man snorted and turned his attention in front of them once more. A few moments later the two stood in front of a large, wood-framed door which Murray knocked three times on.
"What is it?" a deep voice bellowed from within.
"It's me Valence, and I've got a regular here to see ya."
"Send him in."
Murray reached for the door handle and smiled. "Go get em champ, oh and put this on you for me." He said, handing Crono his copper coin. "Oh and keep the change." Crono stared as the man opened the door and turned back towards the bar, whistling a little tune as he did so. Crono clasped the coin tightly in his hand and shook his head. Someday he'd pay Murray back for everything he'd done for Crono and his mother, but right now he had a fight to win.
Valence sat behind his desk as he did every time Crono saw him. Now that he thought about it, Crono didn't think that he had ever seen the heavyset man out from behind his desk, or for that matter standing. His fun came to an end though when he shut the door and turned to the man.
"Crono, my boy, have a seat." Crono nodded and sat in the chair in front of Valence. The chairs here were much nicer than the ones in his house. This one actually stood on all four legs at the same time. Crono situated himself and looked up to Valence expectantly.
"Well it seems word of your grandeur is spreading throughout the kingdom, so it's getting harder and harder for me to find fights for ya, but if you'd let me start a couple rumors about that shoulder of yours I'm sure they come in flocks."
Crono shook his head violently. If his opponents' began to know his weakness surely someone would end his unbeaten streak, and then the fights would halt altogether.
"Yeah that's what Murray said you'd think about it. Oh well, I do have a couple fights for ya this week, and a little extra work if you don't mind bashin' a couple heads for me."
Crono shrugged. If he was getting paid, he'd bash a couple men's heads in, after all wasn't that what he always got paid to do anyway?
"Alright here's a list of your opponents. Be here at the usual time, dawn, and in the meantime you can give the two gentlemen on the bottom of that list a visit for me. The scumbags haven't paid their yearly dues yet, and on top of that I'm hearing that they gossip way too much; if you know what I mean."
Crono nodded in understanding. He did wonder though how Valence heard so many things. He shrugged the thought off. He supposed Murray was a bartender, and drunken men tended to blab at the mouth a little.
"See you tonight my boy. Oh, almost forgot, here's the pay for my little errand, and you'll get a little more when you get back tonight and the job's done. And who knows, you may win another fight eh? Ha ha!" the large man's laughter boomed throughout the room and Crono grinned as he stood and made his way out the door.
He walked back up through the hallway and knocked on the door. As he waited he heard the lock slip back into the door with a small crack and then the door creaked open. "All set eh?" Murray said as he let Crono out. Crono nodded and instead of waiting for Murray to open the counter hopped over to the other side. "Hey! Don't do that or the other riff raff'll catch on." He said with a grin. Crono grinned and waved goodbye to the man as he exited the bar.
Stepping outside he noticed that the wind had picked up even more, and the winter chill was definitely beginning to move in. He stuffed his hands into his pockets once more before realizing he hadn't looked at the list yet. Pulling his hands out from his pockets he held the paper tight in both hands while he read what Valence had scribbled down.

FIGHTS
Derek Haymaker
Ryan McCloud
Jason Kleibold

ERRANDS
Gray Blackbeard
Lily Macintosh

Lily? Wasn't that a woman's name? He shrugged as he stuffed his hands, along with the list, into his pockets once more. Either the man was a sissy or the woman was quite manly; he somewhat hoped it was the former rather than the latter, but nowadays you never knew what to expect from people.
As he walked down the street of the desolate town, Crono realized that he had a lot of empty time oh his hands. He could go and run Valence's errand, but it was still a little early in the day for splitting heads, the Mystic patrols were likely still much too sober and his shoulder still ached as much as the day he separated it. It was then that he decided that it would be best to go and talk to that doctor again.
That decided, Crono turned down the street before his house and headed all the way to the Northern edge of the city. There nearest to the castle and set a little apart from the shanties the humans of Truce called their homes lived in sat a small stone building. It wasn't much, but it was much more than every other family of the city had, and that was just because the family that lived within had been the finest doctors on the continent for as long as the Mystics ruled over the land. These were the personal doctors of the greatest Mystics; though only Slash and Flea lived on this continent. The great family descended from the Mystic Ozzie lived on the continent where the Mystics had been based for centuries. No one knew what had happened to the great sorcerer Magus, but it was rumored that he had disappeared not long after killing the Guardian knight Glenn. His companion, Cyrus, had been stricken with guilt and grief after the knight and his other companion, Sara, had been killed while he had escaped unharmed. He had gone off into the mystical forest north of Porre and never come forth again. Crono cursed the man as he could have stopped this. His mother's suffering, his friends' suffering, mankind's' suffering, his suffering.
He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind as he reached for the door handle on the doctor's house. He opened the door slowly and poked his head through. There wasn't anyone in this first room, but it was warm and he thought he heard the faint sounds of talking in the next room. Silently he slipped into the house; if their was any Mystics here he didn't want to be seen as many of the ones that had to come here were usually sent here by Crono, but if the doctor was in he would see to his shoulder. After all, anyone will do anything for money.
Creeping to the doorway, Crono poked his head around the corner to look within. As he scanned the room he found no Mystics, only the family sitting about the fire and talking about things of the past. As he entered the room the eldest man turned to see who had entered the home.
"Ah Crono I was wondering who was sneaking up on me. I should have known that it was you; shrewd as ever I see. Probably a good thing though, I've seen to a number of Mystics recently that have less than pleasant things to say about you." the man said with a laugh as he stood. The doctor was beginning to become quite elderly, much older than any of the other humans in the city, but his daughter was just about Crono's age, and soon she would inherit her father's status...and his money. Crono smiled at the girl who began to blush and giggle as he followed her father into the next room. The girl was actually quite pleasing to look at, but Crono knew that her father would never allow her to taint her status by being involved with him. He had been in trouble with the law too often, and besides they came from two different worlds. But the money...his thoughts trailed off as he entered the examiner's room.
He looked around a bit nervously. Although he had never backed down from a fight, Crono was always a bit uneasy in the doctor's office. But then again that could have something to do with the variety of herbs and sharps left lying around the room. Crono was fairly certain that the old man wouldn't do anything to harm him, but he was paid by the Mystics, and one could never be too cautious.
"So what's bothering you today m'boy?"
Crono motioned his eyes and left arm towards his shoulder with a frown. The doctor nodded knowingly and pulled out his small black bag of tools.
"Well then let's take a look. You'll need to take off your shirt." he said as he turned to set his bag on the counter behind him. "Now if I remember correctly, you separated that shoulder a few weeks back yes?" Crono nodded yes, and after a few moments of silence the doctor laughed as he turned around. "Yes that's right. You know someday I'll get you to spout some words from that mouth of yours m'boy."
Crono just grinned and shrugged. He had always been a person of few words, even when he was around his mother. He had just found that body language was just as effective, if not more, than speech, and the people around him always understood well enough...and if he did speak, well then those people knew that it was something special indeed. Perhaps he'd give the old man what he wanted so badly to hear someday..like when he was on his deathbed...until then, he'd let the man look forward to hearing those words. Maybe that would give a little extra incentive for the doctor to treat his injuries a bit better.
"Yes..yes..oh and off with the shirt." the man said as he turned back to his bag. Crono rolled his eyes and unzipped his coat. He then pulled off his two thin shirts and laid them over his lap. Just as he did so the old man whipped around and pulled a pair of spectacles from his shirt pocket. Crono's eyes widened in surprise for a moment; did the old man have eyes in the back of his head? The old man 'oohed' and 'mmhmmd' for a few minutes before replacing the spectacles back in his shirt pocket.
"You haven't stopped fighting have you?" the man said sternly as he crossed his arms and began tapping his right foot.
Crono tried to put on an innocent face, but the look failed and he nodded solemnly.
The man sighed. "I know you're strong, but that will never heal correctly if you don't give it some time to rest. The skin seems like it's almost permanently discolored now that the blood has sat beneath it for so long, and I'm afraid its use will completely fail by the time you reach middle age at this rate. Now here, I can spare a little tonic for the wound, but I'm afraid with all the Mystics you've been sending me my supply had run quite short. The herbs that are used to make tonic are even beginning to thin out, and the Mystics have begun to regulate all the patches that they grown in, as rare as they are." The man pulled a small vial of a clear liquid and a small cloth from his black bag. He uncorked the vial and placed the cloth over the open end. He then dipped the whole thing upside down for a moment before setting it back right-side up. Corking the vial, he handed Crono the cloth.
"Rub that on your shoulder until the pain goes away. Then fold the cloth and keep it close. Adding a touch of water might bring back a little bit of the healing powers of the tonic...maybe four or five times, but with each bit of water the pain relieving will dilute. Now do yourself and your mother a favor and get a real job. I may be able to convince the Mystics to let you work for me if you'd like..." the man paused as he studied Crono's stubborn face. "Well think it over m'boy, maybe someday it'll be the right time."
Crono hopped down from the bench and smiled at the doctor. He rubbed the cloth on his shoulder briefly and a tingling sensation took over where pain had ruled all day. At this his grin grew even broader, and the old man began to chuckle. Crono slipped his shirts and jacket back on and waved to the man with his right arm. With the left he stuffed the cloth into the pocket opposite Valence's list. As he crossed through the house he zipped up his jacket and looked around. It seemed the doctor's daughter had left. He sighed and supposed it was for the best.
He exited the house and headed towards the center of town. Now would be the best time to take care of those two hooliganism, then later he'd use the cloth before the night's fights. Crono began to hum softly as he walked slowly back towards the town. He decided that the town center was as good a place as any to start as the town center was usually where gossip began.
A number of people strayed from their path when they saw Crono, who paid attention to nothing. In fact, his eyes were nearly completely closed and his head was directed towards the ground. He walked down the center of the path, hands in his pockets, and hummed while people gasped and murmured while he passed. He even thought about whistling but quickly dashed the thought. People might start a panic if he was to start that.
As he entered the town people began to walk with their shoulders' touching the houses on either side of the road. Perhaps his legend was growing. The only time he hummed was before a fight, and it seemed that these people had come to know this. Too bad notoriety wasn't a good thing in these times...especially for him. It was then that he quit humming, but alas, it seemed he had attracted some attention. He stopped walking and stood in the center of the road. In front of him he could feel the presence of a number of Mystics; likely two patrols working together...just for him. An instinctive growl came from his lips before they formed into a wicked smile.
Time seemed to stop. The people of Truce, frozen in horror gasped as Mystics drew their blades. There seemed to be a huge commotion; shouting, but Crono could hear a pin drop. His head slowly rose to face the Mystics and for an instant Crono wondered if he was indeed as crazy as he knew they thought he looked. The Mystics' confidence seemed to shrink and Crono reveled in the feeling for a split second before unleashing his fury on the monsters.
There was six total, four of which were brandishing thin katanas; the weapon of choice of the servants of Slash. The other two were mages; these were the ones that had to go first. Crono seemed to disappear to the humans and Mystics in the vicinity, and when he appeared he let loose a vicious punch to the first mage. He felt bones crack as the mage screamed in agony, but he had no time for games. As soon as the force left his punch he turned, giving the second mage a quick roundhouse kick to the head, sending the mage flying. Two down. Now he could have a little more fun.
The four Mystics with the katanas had recovered from their initial shock and were attempting to perform a tri-tactic; the Z-Strike. Crono grunted, perhaps these three wouldn't be very entertaining after all. The first monster rushed him, slashing horizontally at Crono's midsection. Crono sucked his gut in and moved his body back; his feet still firmly planted into the ground. It was the second man he wanted. The second monster rushed in, thinking that Crono was vulnerable, and as it slashed down diagonally, Crono jumped into the air, flipping and landing behind the Mystic. He grabbed the monster's sword hand and twisted so the the monster turned to face his third assailer. Just as he expected, the third Mystic slashed horizontally, but instead of meeting human flesh, his blade gutted the second Mystic.
Crono grabbed the Mystics blade as it fell and stabbed at the exposed monster in front of him, sticking the blade through the monster's chest and killing it instantly. Then, as if in the same motion, he turned and pulled the blade out of the Mystic's skin and hurled it at the remaining Mystic who had turned to flee. The sword met its target right through the back of the head and the monster hit the ground with a thud.
People instantly flooded the street and grabbed the dead bodies. The villagers would have to burn them and destroy the weapons so that the high Mystics believed that they were deserters, otherwise many of the men of Truce would be killed. Crono snorted, let the grunts do the grunt-work. He then shoved his hands back into his pockets and pivoted on his right foot so that once again he was headed towards the town's center. As he went he began to hum once more. It was beginning to look like this day would be a good one after all.