Princess' Riches {ON HOLD}

Chapter Twenty-Three: Immortal Damnation

The last thing (Y/n) remembered was excruciating pain. 

Pain beyond comprehension. 

But the last thing (Y/n) expected before waking up inside a barren wasteland was death. He'd thought that he had come to find peace, but instead eternal suffering. 

"HELLO?!" (Y/n) sang out, his voice echoing. 

(Y/n) sighed in defeat and began to salvage what he could from the bits and pieces of stores, buildings and cars. He had no sense of a general direction he could travel, which made things more difficult in his chances of possibly finding any form of life or shelter. 

Only then did (Y/n) pick up a signal from his phone, giving him hope that there was a better way to live in the barren wasteland. (Y/n) hopped in the car he filled up with fuel and drove off, using up as little fuel as he could, hoping it would get him much further. 

He knew he wasn't alone.

Every so often, (Y/n) would notice a strange figure watching him from afar. No matter where he was, he knew he wasn't safe. (Y/n) had a feeling that once the car died he would be attacked. So he prepared himself by using what materials he had accessible to craft a memorable item. 

Two forearm braces. 

With the addition of his Amazon knowledge and its magical charms, (Y/n) was quite disappointed to see that nothing was working. 

Danger prowled. 

Strange creatures lingered in the darkness out of the reach of the camp fire he started to preserve warmth when he was attacked. (Y/n) used his strength and energy to fight off the wild mutated four-legged creatures. Of course, (Y/n) gained the upper hand and tamed the creatures before using them to help him get across larger distances. 

Three months later... 

His adventuring made him less recognisable as time went on. How (Y/n) yearned to discover a way to get back home, if there even was one at all. Judging by how he appeared to be wound up on what was basically Tatooine, hope seemed deathly scarce. The extension of (Y/n)'s travelling took him so far it felt like he had travelled halfway across the globe. 

It wasn't until (Y/n)'s travelling through a desolate canyon where he had an interaction with his stalker. A masked person confronted (Y/n) ahead of him, blocking his path through the canyon. The standoff was ominous and endearing as the two stared each other down - the possibilities of a fight were far too high. 

The stranger themselves was dressed in midnight black from head to toe. Their garbs were ripped and they equipped a belt that was so long the end hung halfway down to their knees. A sword remained in its sheathe, angled from their right side, giving the clear indication that they were left handed, added to the fact that they maintained a flintlock on the opposite side. Lastly, their face was concealed by a clad black mask of two separate components with a hood covering the rest of their head. 

"You've been watching me," announced (Y/n) as he raised his voice. "Either you don't like trespassers on your land or either you got some beef with me. Which is it?" 

"I've been waiting for this moment for a very long time. Now, I shall finally put you to an end once and for all..." The stranger brooded darkly. 

Reaching for the hilt of their sword, a blade shone in the light due to its proper maintenance and care, its steel glistened from the oil that made it fresh to weep (Y/n) blood. Cautiously, (Y/n) readied himself and formed an X with his arms before they clashed. 

With every ounce of training from his wife and brother, (Y/n) mustered all the concentration and energy he could to outmanoeuvre the masked stranger, whose distorted voice made it impossible to distinguish whether they were a man or woman. Even with such clothing, it was difficult to tell due to how quickly both were prancing about as their sword scraped off of (Y/n)'s gauntlets which were ideally to replicate that of his wife's as well as the shock blast, but still to no avail. 

Their fighting raged on for a good thirty minutes until (Y/n) found himself at blade-point. (Y/n) grunted vigorously as he barely outmatched the strength of his enemy. Only by a sudden upward thrust of the sword did the tip of the blade catch (Y/n)'s left eye. A vertical cut that would certainly leave a nasty scar. The masked stranger pranced backwards, spinning fancily their sword as they pointed the weapon horizontally in line with their face. 

(Y/n) knew he had met his match. But when they ran forward to lunge their sword at him, (Y/n) turned his face away and raised his gauntlets up, making the steel touch together which then created a shockblast, instantly throwing the masked assailant in the opposite direction, their arms flailing as they lost their grip on their sword that clattered on the ground beside where they landed. 

"How...?" The stranger murmured weakly. 

(Y/n) stormed over and took the sword into his care and pointed the tip at her throat. 

"Yield!" (Y/n) commanded. 

"MAKE ME! HYAH!" 

(Y/n) yelped when she grabbed the blade of the sword and drew her flintlock, firing the gun. A small, round, lead shot imbedded into his shoulder. His body rotated so that his back to her, the sword slipped out of his grip before its care was brought back to that of its owner. 

They stood in front of (Y/n), poised and ready to finish him off once and for all. (Y/n) seethed through his teeth at how frustrated he was. His intense stare penetrated them through their mask at how ruthless he was to dare them to finish the deed. 

"Who are you...?" 

The stranger chuckled lightly and used the tip of the sword to raise his head up. 

"You want to know that badly, do you..." 

As they spoke, they pulled back on their hood and removed the mask to expose their real voice. 

"... Father?"