Don't mind me, I'm just your resident Shinobi! - The Chapter 11 : Fight Club! (Patreon)

Disclaimer- I don’t actually own anything that the Mouse lays a claim to. He could own me at this moment; I wouldn’t know. All hail to the Mighty Mouse!

Kamar Taj, Kathmandu, Nepal

–Alex Warner–

The next time he came to the land of the living, he found his body to be in much better condition, likely due to the combination of the healing room, which was most likely a relic, and his natural healing, which was slow without active amplification by chakra but still far faster than a normal human.

The last time, he couldn’t even sit upright without what felt like his organs being stretched far beyond their capacity. Now? He could not just sit up but move his limbs and stand upright, though not for long as the damage could still be felt, as he stupidly tried to move his chakra after standing up, thinking it would be fine to do so.

Only for fresh spikes of pain to hit his spine as he stumbled back on the bed, having been sufficiently put in his place. Forget even using the eyes, just normal reinforcement was giving him so many warning signs.

Good news was that it was definitely an improvement over last time and, depending on the amount of time he had spent in this place, could be workable. The bad news was that this just proved that he was weak as fuck. 

What was he thinking? Letting his battlelust lead him around, not yielding when Mordo used his Staff of the Living Tribunal at its full capacity or at least that’s what he assumed because he made the mistake of covering the staff in his chakra to see if he could cut off Mordo’s connection from his most potent weapon, not thinking anything of the weapon that the Living Tribunal’s name in it.

Apparently, the staff took great offense at his chakra and did its best to cut off the offending limbs that dared to use energy to tamper with its chosen host. He looked down and winced as he saw the marks still present on his wrists, black with hints of red and orange in them, as the energy from that staff was still present in them.

Inert, thankfully, but still yet to dissipate naturally.

Okay, note to self, don’t piss off the Staff or its user. Doing so could be harmful to the offender’s continued well-being.

Sighing, he leaned on the bed, and looked at the ceiling, as his eyes spotted the minute glowing orange lines that seemed to ebb in and out of visible range, pondering the fight that led to his current predicament.

In hindsight, not letting go and doubling down instead was one spectacularly bad decision. Shaking his head, he waited for someone to come check on him. He had a lot of healing to do, so might as well use that time to get some reading done. He had never been this injured, nor as dry in terms of his chakra, but knowing his body, he could attest that the only limitation seemed to be the fuel he supplied to it.

Food and lots of food should bring him back to fighting condition soon enough. He learned some stuff from the fight, the supreme of which was that you did not fuck with something that had an essence of a cosmic entity. 

No matter, it served as the catalyst required for him to finally lock in and activate the Rinnegan. The reminder of which brought a smile to his face, the scenes of Nagato using it flashing through his mind.

The smile dimmed a bit when he compared his meagre Shinra Tensei with Nagato’s village destroying one, but then again, everyone started somewhere, right? 

And to think, he was thinking that he was decent when it came to chakra capacity. He could lay to rest the delusion of this body being an Uzumaki or Senju chakra powerhouse. Sure, he was sturdy as hell, could spring back from absurd wounds, healed pretty fast and chakra came pretty easily to him, but the one thing that would be the most advantageous when it came to his most potent weapon was the one thing this body was deficient in.

He didn’t even dare supply any chakra to his eyes to test, as he instead settled into doing subtle bodily movements, using his muscles in little ways, to check on the damage done. 

He nodded after finding what seemed like receding muscle damage and no broken bones. He gave himself 2 days, 3 tops to be back in the sparring ring with Mordo once more and that time, he would push Mordo far more than he did last time. It was not like any other person at Kamar Taj would fight him, on account of her orders, so until he defeated Mordo soundly, he was stuck with the man as a sparring partner.

Not that he minded it, not one bit but Mordo had pesky stuff that came in between their fighting schedules like duties and responsibilities.

Bah!

Exhaling, he closed his eyes, not finding the will within himself to either call for someone or get out himself. Within moments, he was fast asleep.

___xx___

[50 hours later]

“Ready?” He grinned at Mordo, not receiving any reply from the stoic faced Master. That was fine, he did not expect any. His eyes noted the slight tightening of the man’s face, both his relics ready to be deployed at the start itself. That made his grin widen a bit. It was nice to be taken seriously.

Before this, the man only used his staff and that too, only sparingly. It was a little insulting to be underestimated like that. That flash of pride made him question whether he was a shinobi, bred to use chakra properly, or some variation of a Saiyan, with the battlelust, combat instincts, and sturdy body.

With just the power systems swapped. Chakra instead of Ki.

Shaking his head, he ignored those pointless internal questions and focused on the right, noting the peanut gallery that was a direct result of his fame reaching all corners of Kamar Taj. he was the novice who challenged Master Mordo in a direct fight and angered him to the point that Mordo injured him severely.

Him.

That was what he heard through the grapevine, with a conspicuous lack of injuries he most definitely gave the man, if not from their spars, where he hit as hard as he could sometimes, then most definitely from the point black Shinra Tensei the man was subjected to.

He knew he was weak, vastly so, when compared to the true powerhouses who used the legendary eyes, but come on! He was not that weak. Mordo must have had at least a couple of broken ribs.

The first spark from the person supposed to act as the referee snapped him back into focus, his eyes glued onto Mordo’s tense form, whose hands twitched at the sudden change. For some ungodly reason, he did not take any weapon offered to him, preferring to use his body as a weapon, further reinforcing his theory of this actually being a Saiyan body. 

Any day now, he should be getting golden spiky hair with blue eyes.

The spars molded into a Tao Mandala as the man flung it in front of him, the eldritch energy construct making a giant gong sound the moment it touched the ground, spurring both of them into action.

He noted the widened eyes of Mordo as his fist made direct contact with the Staff, a loud thud noise ringing out as he, remembering the burn marks on his wrist, quickly hopped up and kicked the man right in the torso.

Even that slight contact with the Staff had him shaking his hand due to the high heat it managed to transfer in that split second contact. Mordo, to his credit, had already begun stepping back using his Vaulting Boots of Valtorr, the relic glowing orange and red as it allowed Mordo to escape the brunt of his attack.

Another thing he noted after his 4-day coma, was that his chakra reinforcement resulted in a far higher strength output. He no longer needed to waste chakra to generate chakra explosions around his body to manoeuvre his body at high speeds. He could do that with pure physical force now.

Also, the reason he was not using that right now was because it took him a while to properly learn how to use chakra explosions without overshooting his targets.

Mordo’s feet skid on the smooth stone flooring as he used his relic to jump up and then away to bleed off the momentum of his forceful leap. He grinned as the man, having reached an appropriate height, began leaping down towards him, using his boot to create platforms mid air, allowing him to move in an erratic manner.

Well, he did not move because the man would come to him. Not the other way around. Mordo noticed the lack of movement as well, and boy, he was not happy, evidenced by the familiar orange glow gathering on the Staff of the Living Tribunal.

He tensed instinctively, the horrid pain of his hands being burned to the bone still fresh in his mind as he braced for impact. He felt the heat of the hateful Staff on his before he jumped to the side, the ground sizzling on impact as the Staff made its hate known to him.

Only a muffled “oof” left Mordo’s lips as he kicked the man in the ribs. This time, he pulled back slightly because the man had overextended on the staff attack, and he did not want to pulverize his ribs and puncture all his internal organs.

Break a couple ribs? Sure. But put him on death’s door? Nope.

Still, even held back, Mordo went flying, only stopping after a flip and multiple applications of his boots, coughing blood as he kneeled on the ground. Gasps rang around the peanut gallery as he focused on Mordo and his sharp gaze as he stood up on shaky legs.

It was only for a moment, though. Only for a moment, Mordo allowed the world to see his vulnerability before his stance shifted, his legs found grip on the surface, as he held the Staff in one hand, burning red and orange, and a Tao Mandala formed in his other hand, glowing orange as well.

He grinned, as he crouched, ready to blast ahead. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

A single powerful jump had his fist hitting the shield, the Tao Mandala not even flickering as Mordo was pushed back. He immediately leapt back as the Staff turned into a whip, only a split second away from wrapping around his hands.

He definitely did not want a repeat of that day, as he and Mordo clashed again, duking it out with no clear winner in sight. Well, at first anyway. After what felt like the hundredth clash, Mordo’s hand shook as the Tao Mandala began flickering as he hammered the man with explosive force each time.

The man, no matter how tough due to magical reinforcement, was still human in the end. Repeated hammering on his shields and being on the constant lookout, as even a single blow would end the fight, while holding back the clearly lethal capabilities of his staff was taking a toll on the man.

Still, he did not back down, spitting blood, and rushing forward with the flickering Tao Mandala to meet him midway, just like the dozens of previous tries. Only this time, he did not move forward. 

“I forfeit,” He said before moving out of the sparring grounds, much to the disappointment of the peanut gallery. He held back a scoff at that.

It was getting…boring. No fun at all beating Mordo down after such an interesting match. Much better to fight him again at his best, with lethal intent on both sides.

That would be a match worth fighting. Even so, fighting Mordo, who was on the good side, with lethal intent would leave a bad taste in his mouth.

A figure draped in darkness, and purple around his eyes flashed through his mind as he paused a bit before continuing his stride, only this time, he was not heading to his quarters but to the library.

Where he knew the figure would be present.

Maybe it was time to change sparring partners. After all, he might feel back accidentally maiming or killing someone like Mordo or Wong, who would fight the good fight in the future but not for someone who was going to betray the cult he was in, kill the librarian who was a genuinely good man, and endanger the entire planet all for a silly ploy to become immortal.

___xx__

–Ancient One–

She watched with dispassionate eyes as Mordo was taken away to the healing chambers, the man half hobbling in a ploy to hide his vulnerable side, likely due to his misplaced pride. Even after so long, Mordo remained prideful, despite knowing his place in the multiverse. A quirk that remained defiant in the face of eldritch entities, demons, aliens, and more. In a way, it was commendable. 

To retain something as worthless as pride despite facing things that would end the world as they knew it.

Shaking her head, he disappeared from the roof and shimmered into view right beneath the library, the place that held the sceptre for now, warded off with the highest protections of Kamar Taj, locked in a field of orange, isolating it from the rest of the universe.

To this day, she was still astonished to find that someone with no understanding of the Mystic Arts managed to negate what she would call one of the highest levels of curses, woven into something that had the energy of an Infinity Stone passively coursing through it.

Even the lowest level of curses would find itself amplified beyond reason if it was also in proximity to an Infinity Stone. Either that or it would find itself burned out by pure energy.

The unique energy that Alex used to liberate the Mind Stone, in a manner of speaking, was very fascinating. The effect it had on Mordo’s relic only served to deepen her curiosity about that energy.

That energy, his knowledge of things he should have no way of knowing, his being a total blind spot in her visions, his enhanced body, and the sceptre being in his possession, all of that combined, made him a very troublesome yet potentially the most useful person who has walked the halls of Kamar Taj in recent memory.

Not knowing the set future, the most probable future was….disconcerting but she had weathered through worse things. If there was even a chance that his existence could tip the scales in their favour, she would let him live.

As things have played out recently, she was inclined to heed the warnings of the Vishanti and steer clear of his path. After hammering in some basic lessons that everyone who could ever come into contact with an Infinity Stone should know, into Alex’s head.

Even what little time Alex had spent in the library after waking up from his coma had only been focused on Dimensional Energy and its usage in direct combat, nothing about the myriad warnings that he should have focused on instead.