Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Red Baron ❯ Legacy of the Fire Dragon ( Chapter 39 )

The Red Baron- Tribulationof the Tainted Dragons Saga

 

Legacy of the Fire Dragon

 

The stage is set a year since the defeat of the Dark Baron. With his dark influence removed from the Earth's existence, there was a long and well deserved time of peace and relaxation for the Earth and for the Red Baron.

 

Yet even in peace, there was much to do and to repair. After the death brought on by the dark forces, the city in which the Red Baron resided faced a period of reconstruction that though quickly done with, could not as quickly relieve the city of the horrible events.

 

Thankfully, the heroes managed to keep their identities secret and were able to have that much peace. Josh, now of age, was able to take over for Master Janus and though thought to be far too young, he soon proved his skills to his critics and was able to run the dojo with little resistance. This allowed him to teach the children who came to him the way his master once taught him and this made him very happy.

 

The White Warrior, Vanessa, was able to find peace in defeating the evil that nearly destroyed her life completely, only to find a place of acceptance and a great love. But her habits die hard and she continues to be head strong and even in peace, trains nearly everyday. He believes her duty as a White Warrior is not over and often helps the city in vigilant affairs along with the Red Baron.

 

But the situation of the Red Baron is quite different. Like the White Warrior, he trains often and fights crime when possible and as secretly as possible. He regularly attends Josh's dojo sessions to observe and assist without giving away his true power. And of course, he is very close now to the White Warrior and their bond is as powerful as they come. And yet, something still lurks within him.

 

The Red Baron is still haunted by the events. He is still haunted by the loss of him master, the murder of his brother, and the terrible emotions that raced through him in the Dark Baron influence. His fear is silent but deadly and eats away at him continuously. He has done well to keep this growing darkness quiet and even Vanessa is unaware of his condition.

 

Training in the dojo after hours, he stands in the dark room where it all began. The dojo was rebuilt a few months prior and has become his favorite place to train alone.

 

Standing in the darkness, the moon light coming from the small, rectangular windows that cover the top of the wall behind him. He has already been shadow boxing for an hour and he sweat drips down his head, glistening in the moonlight. His eyes are blindfolded and he is training with the spirit rather then the body. With quick motions, he jumps slightly in the air and floats. Just as quickly and suddenly, he begins to shower the void in front of him with punches, pushing the air with great force.

 

He yells loudly with each punch technique, practicing and practicing and trying to keep his focus. At times, he imagines an enemy; a Soldier of Death, Shadow, the Dark Baron. It is there same images of enemies that bring him close the brink of insanity. But he keeps pushing himself and soon, he is using his legs and floating there, he creating a vortex of wind and energy that encircles him and engulfs his body with a majestic red aura.

 

As he punches and kicks away, he begins to wonder about his purpose. With the Dark Baron imprisoned in his necklace, what is left for him? He thinks and wonders and he continues to plow away.

 

Why am I still alive? What purpose is now mine? Can this truly be the end? Am I selfish for thinking this way? I just can't throw away my life because I can't see purpose in it. But without it, I feel cold and empty. I should feel this way but I do. I have to get out of this. But I can't get out of it, it's true. My purpose is gone and in the end, what do I have to show for it? Was it worth it? Was it worth losing all that I have lost? Was that whole thin even meaningful and true or was it all just a lie? Somebody tell me what's left for ME!?

 

And with that punch, another face appeared in front of him that he did not think of before and it terrified him. So terrified he was that he immediately stopped. The vortex disappeared and he fell to the ground back first. Instantly, he dragged himself back and his eyes, now uncovered as he removed the blind fold, were ryes of fear. His sweat poured out even more covering his face. A couple of tears rolled down his eyes. The image that his punched at last was an image of Vanessa.

 

Yet, even after all this, the worse was yet to come for the Red Baron still held one secret that was shocking and above all else, was breaking him the most.

 

 

In the streets of uptown, there was a man that like the Red Baron was filled with many questions of doubt and purpose. But this man was different. For one thing, he was more of a boy. At 20 years of age, he was mature and strong but lacked will and support. This boy was a baller.

 

In his street, he was the most profound basketball player around and had moves that rivaled many of the big names of his time. In the local games, he was the one everybody wanted and he was someone who could defeat multiple players as one time. He was cocky and brutal but his overwhelming skills shadowed those and created a local legend and a star Duce was his name and burning up the court was his game.

 

Even with contractors ready to pounce on him and take him up to people more his skill, he still did not feel the satisfaction. He felt that his skills were better then anyone else's and that joining national levels would give him no competition. And fame and glory and money were not things he wanted. No. Above all he wanted a purpose and he wanted power like what he had now in such a purpose.

 

I don't play the game. I AM the game. I can take anyone's sorry ass and I do it all better then anyone else.

 

It was sundown after a very short game. Under the same moonlight as the Red Baron, he was doing his own training with the basketball. He had just won another basketball game where he had gotten into a fight. Of course, he won that too and now he was left alone, gripped with ego and loss.

 

Duce was 6' 5” and weighed in at a solid 250 pounds of power. He Carmel skin was glazed in lotion and sweat. He wore a black band around his head, a black wife-beater and long, black shorts with some black Jordan's on his feet. He wore thick chain that held a symbol of fire on it.

 

On the court, he was going up and down take shots and not missing a single one. He was doing lay-ups, from the free throw, from half court, and incredible slam dunks. The white street lights lit up the court splendidly and all the markers of a normal court were there and he was on every inch of it. Going up and down the gray cemented court, he was doing exactly what made him so famous and like his saying goes, he was on fire.

 

After one mighty slam dunk that bent the rim quite a bit, Duce landed and wiping the sweat on his forehead, heard a clapping in the background. Duce turned around and looked in the darkness and the shadows.

 

“Yo, who's out there now? I'm about done, I ain't doing another game tonight. Try another day playa.”

 

From the shadows, a young man's voice spoke out. It was deep and chilling and it sent a piece of ice up and down Duce's back.

 

“I am sorry. Please forgive me but I've heard so much about you and I was in the neighborhood and decided to get a look before I was on my way.”

 

Duce smiled a little.

 

“You just wanna see? Most wanna play. Don't you play basketball?”

 

“No, I play other things. A little more violent then basketball.”

 

“What, football?”

 

“It doesn't matter.”

 

Duce looked a little take back and responded.

 

“Man, some fan you are. Don't want to really talk to me do you?”

 

“Well, no, not exactly. I like to think of myself as more of a critic.”

 

“What! You think you're going to tell me how my basketball skills suck?”

 

“No, I'm going to tell you that everything about you except basketball sucks.”

 

Duce was angry but remained quiet, stunned by his words. The young man kept on.”

 

“I know that you are without a challenge and without a purpose. I know that you crave something and do not know what it is. But I know exactly what to feed you.”

 

Duce, still angry but interested now, spoke to him.

 

“Fine, I'm listening but I doubt I'm gonna get anything good outa your ass.”

 

“Duce, as you call yourself, I can rant you power that you've never had before and this power with have little rivalry name one that you will be able to conquer. This power will give you your true purpose, one greater then being stuck as a kid's wall poster. It will be a challenge and a purpose that you have never dreamed of.”

 

“Sucka, I don't know what you're trying to pull but there ani't nothing you can give to me that I want or need. I don't need anything from anybody and I know I don't need anything from your creepy ass.”

 

Duce then grabbed his basketball and beamed the ball right at the figure in the darkness. As fast as it was, the figure in the shadows caught it with one hand. In that moment, what could be seen of the man was a pale hand with slightly long nails.

 

At that moment, the young man, already catching such a power throw with one hand, crushed the ball in his hands and popper with this little effort or technique.

 

Duce was hysterical over the destruction of his ball.

 

“MAN! That was my favorite ball. You're as good as dead ass-“

 

Almost not noticing, Duce saw the figure throw the remains of the flattened ball at Duce. The throw was so powerful that it was unbelievable how fast it went in the air and impossible as the shape of the ball was far from throwable. The figure through it at Duce and Duce, almost not noticing it, was able to turn his head around in time as the remnants of the ball zipped passed him.

 

Standing there in shock, Duce saw that not only was the ball thrown unbelievable hard, but it has nearly sliced open his bottom lip. Still in shock, Duce turned to the figure in question.

 

“How the fuck did you do that?”

 

“First you must accept my gift. I promise you it will be a gift like no other with purpose that will go unmatched.”

 

Duce, without saying anything, nodded his head. That was all it took. From the night sky, one that was at first clear, came clashing thunder and roaring clouds. Duce was frightened but could not move. The figure, still unseen, began to chant in tongues undescribable. Duce was in horror and didn't know what to do. He began to yell and panic.

 

“What the hell are you doing? What crazy shit is this!?”

 

Suddenly, the clouds parted and a red and orange glistening dragon appeared from the chaos in the sky. Before Duce could move, the dragon rammed into him and immersed its massive body into Duce's. As the dragon merged himself with Duce, it became the essence of fire and with all its power. Duce screamed out as the merger shook and tore at his body and the shriek in his voice could be heard for miles. And yet, he was able to keep his footing and drawing his hands to the sky above, granted the dragon access. The sky around them brightened and turned it into cosmic sunset that lasted as long as transformation as the dragon's fire spirit roared down from the heavens.

 

Then, the figure stopped chanting and the fire finished pouring down and all was silent again. Duce, steaming rising from his body and his clothing tattered and slightly torn, fell to his knees. He held himself up with his arms on the ground, trembling uncontrollably and gasping for every once of air his body could handle, literally choking from his breathing. The sweat dripped down his like a leaky shower faucet.

 

The skies cleared up again. The moonlight broke through and in the distance; car alarms and sirens were going off constantly. This was no illusion and the people around the area knew it and so did Duce. They had really made some noise.

 

The dark figure stepped forward. Duce did not look up. He couldn't even if he wanted to. His body was drained by whatever had just happened. His head literally hung off his neck and body and there was little support holding it up. His face was just changing from terror to slight clam. He was trying as hard as he could to hold himself up and keep his calm and he did not take the time to look at the dark figure. But the dark figure made the effort for Duce.

 

“Congratulations. You have been accepted by the ancient fire dragon as its new vessel since his original vessel has been completely damaged and destroyed so many years ago. Though I must tell you that he actually been a pure spirit. But I see that your own ambitions and desires have overridden this and you have acquired everything of his but his heart. But I think you'll like yours better anyway.”

 

Duce, without even thinking much of it, stood up. He was able to stand tall and without any effort. His strength had returned instantly to him and all his pain had gone away.

 

“You see, boy?! You have been able to overcome the spirit of this creature and use it's power and being as your own. You have taken your desire yourself and have been granted eternal power as your reward.”

 

Duce powered up. A bright aura of fire surrounded him. A look of shock and surprise became quite visible on Duce's face. Looking at each arm, he saw them grow in mass. His torso and legs also grew in size slightly. He did not gain so much size but a difference was easily notable. He was lean and clean and he was enjoying it. The dark figure posed a question to him.

 

“Do you like your gift?”

 

Duce smiled at the figure and turned around. Raising his hand toward the center of the court, palm forward, he shot a wide spread of fire the slowly engulfed the entire court. The place was full of flames and had become a light in the middle of the dark neighborhood. And that's when the sirens rose up again. They would not be alone for long.

 

“Yeah. I like it. This is hot. But, what's my side of the deal here?”

 

“Whatever could you mean, Duce?”

 

“Don't play games with me, punk. I know this ain't for free. Your ass had me pinned form the start and now that you have me, what shit do you want from me.”

 

The dark figured gave a low laugh.

 

“Yes, I see you really are a bright one. Well, yes, there is one favor I would like to ask of you in exchange for this. It is really simple for you actually. Just a simple assassination.”

 

“So I got to take somebody out, that all?”

 

The dark figure gave Duce a paper. Duce accepted it and began to open it up. But before he could read what was on it, there was company.

 

A set of police officers came to the scene and saw the fire and Duce.

 

“YOU! HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!”

 

Duce turned to the dark figure. But when he looked, he saw that he had disappeared. Duce, at first upset, smiled and turned back to the police officers.

 

“Drop what ever firearms you have and step away from the fire and toward us with your hands behind your back.”

 

Duce began to walk toward the police slowly and spoke to them.

 

“Alright officers. I'll drop my heat.”

 

And Duce produced two yellow energy balls, one on each hand and they hung down and continued to walk toward them. The officers began to panic, not expecting such a scenario and gave Duce time to attack.

 

Guess it's time to turn it up and get to cookin'.