[Ties] Bootcamp 2

"The same name, huh?" said Malachi to himself, "Coincidence or convenience?"

Looking down in his own body,

"A child's size..." he commented, "A reincarnation or a takeover?"

He looked around, got off his bed, and went to a nearby mirror. Facing the glass pane that reflected his image, he saw a small boy no higher than a meter. He felt his entire body disbelievingly, especially when it came to his facial features.

"Red irises..." he muttered, "But my skin and hair are different."

Malachi closed his eyes, and focused his consciousness within his mind. Searching and sifting, he scoured the memories "Malachi" had. He "recalled" many things, in the past and in the present lives. Opening his eyes, he arrived at a probable conclusion.

"Possibly, my past memories were merely sealed." he uttered, "I don't feel anything different from when my memories were locked away, nor anything afterwards... Apart from a shift in personality, I am 'myself'."

Then, he had a moment of realization.

'Oops, if I recall correctly, I knocked out my dad.' he thought, 'Hmm, so I'm the son of a Prince... Nice background...'

As he thought such, he unknowingly revealed a wry smile.

'First, though... Do I divulge this information? Then again, seeing that gun earlier... Uncle Greg called it a fusil, huh? Fusils, like those old Earth muskets?'

From his wry smile, it became a grin.

"Haha!" he laughed, "Good thing Father... Father...? Why... Why can't I remember his face? ... Never mind, I'll just use the skills I learned from back then and improve this kingdom's war potential."

Malachi went towards the door and left the room. In the hallway, he pondered once more.

'Recalling correctly, Pops is a Prince. Judging from the incident before, an assassin came to take his life. Therefore, there should be a faction war or something similar to that currently in progress... I'll have to verify it from Pops... Yeah, forget about hiding my past. Let's charge forward instead. Improving this kingdom's technology will be easier if I do so...'

Remembering the layout of the villa, he went downstairs towards the dining room,

'They should be there, if not, outside or the lounge hall.'

Thinking that the others were gathered there. Arriving at his destination, he found his father, Emmanuel, being diagnosed by the doctor. With them were Bashia, Arlianne, and Gregory as he expected.

"Just in case, you may have to avoid any strenuous activity for a few days." said the doctor.

Malachi leaned onto the frame of the doorway and spoke.

"He'll be fine." he said.

Hearing his voice, the others in the room turned their gazes towards him and thus the present situation.

///

Everybody in the room became quiet at Malachi's revelation. Memories of a past life came to him with the fusil as a trigger.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Emmanuel, "Are you my son or are you not?"

"Are we going to be philosophical here?" clarified Malachi, "Pops, I am your son. Birthed between you and Mamita. The one before the fever was also 'myself' only with sealed memories. If you were able to shock Arlianne with your identity, why can't I shock the rest as well? Haha!"

Bashia stared at Malachi momentarily, then stood up. The others watched her go to Malachi's side, and effortlessly lift him up with both hands.

"Wah!?" cried Malachi from surprise, "What's up, Mamita?"

Bashia brought Malachi to her face. Face to face, Malachi made a grin and said such. Bashia then turned Malachi all over, inspecting his entire body, making the scene fairly surreal yet strangely amusing.

"Mamita, I'm not a strange animal." whined Malachi.

Bashia replaced Malachi onto his seat, and went back to her own seat. Facing Emmanuel, she spoke.

"It is our child." she said, "Only, if we were to take his word with regards to past memories, nothing else is different."

"Mamita's rather calm about this." commented Malachi, "Any reason for doing so?"

Bashia's expression became serious, and brought her face before Malachi. Malachi recoiled from the suddenness of her action. Bashia stared at Malachi sternly in the eyes.

"Mama." she said.

"Huh?" uttered Malachi.

"Call me Mama." she repeated, "Do not call me 'Mamita'."

Noticing the intensity of her gaze,

"Ma... Mama..." said Malachi.

"Again. Clearly." she ordered.

"M-mama... Mama." repeated Malachi.

Bashia stared at him for a while longer. Then, her expression softened, and turned into a smile. Bringing her arms forward, she brought Malachi to an embrace.

"Yes, you are my child." she declared, "No matter what happens, you are my little Malachi."

Emmanuel and the others were silent as they watched Bashia overpoweringly embrace the small boy before them. Emmanuel, still having a disbelieving expression plasterer on his face, could only look on dumbstruck at Bashia's actions.

"Ma... Mama... Can't... Breathe..." said Malachi struggling.

Bashia loosened her embrace, but did not let go. Sensing his mother's grip loosening, Malachi slipped out of her embrace, and went to the other side of the table.

"Aww... Malachi..." whined Bashia.

'That fever of mine must have flipped a switch.' thought Malachi, 'Scary...'

Malachi his behind Arlianne's chair, and the girl looked at the boy behind her. Malachi locked gazes with her, and revealed a grin.

"Hey, sis." said Malachi, "Were you able to understand everything so far? Haha!"

Arlianne was still staring at Malachi, unsure of what to do.

"If... If the madam is fine with with..." said Arlianne, "If mom is fine with it, then..."

Malachi smiled and hugged her.

"Kaaaa... So cute." he said, "Ahh, this will be a nice life~ Such a cute sister~ Too bad you're older than me, but, whatever. CUTE IS CUTE~"

"Eep!" shrieked Arlianne, "Y-young Master!?"

"Gah! The way you get flustered! Yes! Mama! Pops! Finalize her adoption! Guh!?"

Just as he was about to go on a rampage, he snapped out of it.

'Woah! Did I just?' he thought, 'Kh... I have to restrain myself...'

"Like mother like son." commented Gregory, "Eman, remember seven years ago?"

Emmanuel turned to Gregory, then gazed at Bashia, and finally staring at the boy beside him. Emmanuel stretched back, and placed an arm over his eyes, then released a long and deep sigh.

"Yeah, I remember." he replied, "Bashia went nuts when I gave her that doll... I will never forget that."

"What about it?" questioned Bashia with a pout, "At least we now know that he inherited my tastes for cute things! Hmph!"

"Kukuku, hahaha!" laughed Emmanuel, "Ahh, it will take time for me to sort this out. I, however, shouldn't dwell on this too much. I still have bigger problems to deal with. Fine, fine. Malachi, you are my son."

"You sound like you just forced yourself to believe so, Pops." commented Malachi.

"Pops, Papa, I don't care anymore." said Emmanuel, "Doc, I suppose you can keep these secret?"

Everyone looked at the doctor.

"Well, I had a vow of Eqarian Oaths." said the doctor, "Frankly, between my curiosity as a doctor and my sense of professionalism, I would like to study this phenomenon. However, since you requested its secrecy, for all of your identities, I will uphold the oath."

"Thanks, doc." said Emmanuel, "I need a drink..."

"Pops, you may want to hold off on that drink for a while longer." advised Malachi, "It has been a day since my collapse, right?"

Malachi then turned his gaze to Gregory, and the person raised a brow.

"In your panic, Uncle Greg, you've been followed." announced Malachi, "The outside had gone so quiet all the while we conversed."

"What?"

Alarmed, Gregory went to a nearby window facing the front yard. In the shadows of the rocks and crevices, he found a group of people trying to hide their bodies. If not for the glint of the sun's reflection n the metal, he wouldn't have found them.

"Damn! Forgive me, Eman." cursed Gregory.

"Pops, you may need to ensure the doc's safety after this." advised Malachi, "Also, do you mind if I assist you in spotting the enemy?"

The expressions of all the adults became grave, their gazes stern.

"No!" denied Emmanuel, "I don't give a damn about your past life, but I won't risk your present life!"

Emmanuel immediately stood up, and went to get his fusil. Along with Gregory, they went to the doors and windows, preparing for a firefight.

"Dammit, how many are there?" inquired Emmanuel, "I can see at least ten of them. This place is no longer safe. Bashia, hide again with the kids and the doctor, the aftermath will be very annoying."

Bashia immediately stood up, and was about to carry Arlianne and Malachi. Before she could pick up Malachi, the boy instead stared intensely at his mother.

"What is it? We need to go, now." ordered Bashia.

"Mama, let me help out Pops." declared Malachi, "I promise you that I won't put myself in harm's way. After all, I got a second chance at life, for whatever reason."

Mother and son stared at one another for a while, gaugin each other's sincerity. The silence, which felt like an eternity, was broken by Gregory.

"Could you hurry up, the situation is tense as it is." he berated, "One way you could help is to get out of our way, Malachi."

"Fine." said Malachi, "But if you take too long, I'm helping out by spotting whether you like it or not."

"Do you even know how to spot?" questioned Emmanuel.

"I am your son, after all." answered Malachi, "The way your eyes are moving, the signals you're giving Uncle Greg. You're most likely the spotter and the other's the shooter. By the way..."

Malachi went to a nearby window.

"You said there were at least ten of them." he said, "There are actually twelve. Six pairs of enemies, spotter-shooter fireteams. Two behind that rock, two inside that cave, two below that crevice, two between that broken boulder, and two behind that bush."

"What? You just said five teams." argued Gregory, "Those are the ones we found."

Malachi revealed a wry smile.

"Because the remaining two are already stuck to the wall." he declared, "Don't you hear the sound of small rocks being crushed underfoot and the scraping of armor on the walls nearby?"

Everyone became silent. Emmanuel and Gregory strained their ears to listen. Bashia and the doctor, too.

"Scritch... Scritch... Shaakk..."

"There... There is noise..." said Gregory disbelievingly, "How did you..."

Malachi grinned and spoke with arms spread open.

"I am Malachi. A Hunter and the Deliverer. In the past, in my past, I grant deliverance upon my enemies."

///

Outside.

"Are you sure this is where Lord Grigorio went with that Eskur?" asked an assassin to another assassin, "This villa doesn't seem all that grandiose as you might expect from royalty."

"No idea, let's just kill the target and get our bounty." replied assassin, "500,000 Pearls for a job... Can you think of the amount of booze!? So much booze!"

"Hey! Keep it down over there!" whispered another assassin from behind a rock, "The operation starts once those two break inside."

In front of the villa, near the entrance, stood two cloaked and armored people. The two were on either side of the door, leaning onto the wall with their fusils. One assassin locked gazes with his partner, and the other nodded. Immediately, the assassin on the left of the door moved and proceeded to kick open the door.

"BAM!" the door broke open, and the two assassins stormed the building.

Inside, one watched the back of the other as they carefully searched the villa.

"The downside of using long firearms indoors is giving their wielders limited movement."

"What!?"

A voice spoke and the assassins went alert. Before an assassin could move and point the fusil, it suddenly received a blow to the chin with an uppercut of another fusil.

"Shit!"

The other assassin panicked when he saw his partner fall but, before he could react, Gregory appeared behind him with a kitchen knife, and slit the throat. Silent kill.

"Damn, that was bloody." commented Gregory, "I can't believe a kid would suggest that... Then again, he's not a kid at all... Phew, good thing Bashia had taken Arlianne away already."

"I agree, I can't believe it as well." added Emmanuel, "Is he really my son?"

"I am your son, Pops." said Malachi, "You may want to get rid of the other guy and loot their guns. Man, this thing's heavier than a Garand, it's not even wholly made of wood."

Gregory and Emmanuel watched a surreal scene of a seven-year old child looting the corpses for weapons and ammo. Human corpses were before Malachi, a supposed child, yet he didn't flinch at the sight of it.

"So, are you going to get rid of this guy?" said Malachi as he pointed at the knocked out assassin, "I could kill him, myself, but my body lacks the strength to do so."

The adults with him rubbed their foreheads.

'I don't care anymore.' thought Emmanuel, 'We have to make use of his suggestions if we want to get out of here alive. Being outnumbered sure is a pain.'

'I wonder if this is a blessing?' wondered Gregory, 'Emmanuel's son just had to be well-versed in combat. Would be nice if he inherited the Eskur's wisdom and intellect.'

"I'll do it." said Emmanuel, "Give me the knife, Greg."

Emmanuel, then, dispatched the assassin.

"I have to ask, though." said Gregory, "Why can't we take them as prisoners?"

"Because they are assassin's, hired assassin's." replied Malachi, "I can surmise that these guys were sent after Pops and, judging from what they have on their bodies, they were merely ordered by an intermediary. Hence, the limited equipment. We'll get nothing from them, even if we capture them alive. Might as well get rid of them."

"The others outside should begin to notice something wrong." said Emmanuel, "Either they storm the place, or we'll be exchanging potshots at each other."

Emmanuel and Gregory got rid of the bodies.

///

The assassins outside waited for those who entered but, one of them was getting impatient.

"Hey, those guys are taking too long." said an assassin, "Think they got into trouble?"

"Not sure." replied another assassin, "I mean, it's too quiet. Maybe there's no one inside?"

"Still, they're taking their sweet time. What say we also go in?"

"Tempting... Especially since nothing's happening yet. I'll check with the others."

An assassin raised an arm and made gestures towards the other assassin teams. More than half gestured the same, while the others gestured something else. The majority had voted, they proceeded to leave their positions, and they approached the villa.

Once they were out in the open,

"BANG!"

A gunshot roared from a window, and an assassin fell as it's head blew open.

"Scatter!" yelled an assassin as it ran for cover.

"BANG! BANG!"

Two more gunshots erupted, and hit two more assassins. One died, but one merely got hit on the leg. The surviving assassin limped towards a rock to hide.

///

"Four down, eight to go." commented Gregory, "They really thought to storm inside."

"Now, the potshots can begin." added Malachi, "Pops, care to take the second floor? You should get a nice view from above."

"Yeah, got it." affirmed Emmanuel, "Greg, I'll leave Malachi to you."

"Roger that." replied Gregory, "Now, then, their forces should be confused momentarily. Should we rain down fire?"

"That depends on how much ammo you have left." argued Malachi, "Seeing the fusil's performance, it packs a punch with such a large caliber but it can't travel far and reloading is a pain."

"I guess we'll have to pick our shots, is that what you're saying?"

"More like, make your shots count, Uncle Greg. When you shoot, make sure it will stop the enemy. The stopping power of the fusil should make it so that a shot to the torso will stun the target momentarily. Isn't that why you still wear armor despite its weight?"

Gregory stared at the boy next to him.

"How old are you, really?"

"This life plus my past? Around thirty?"

"Mn... So that makes you as old as Emmanuel and I."

As they were talking, an assassin came into view.

"Let's put my self aside. A curious enemy is approaching."

Gregory brought his attention to the assassin. He crouched before the window, and brought his fusil up, its barrel rested upon the windowsill.

"While Pops is still relocating, just knock that guy's movements out." suggested Malachi, "If you can hit the shoulder, shoot the legs afterwards. If not, take a few shots at the torso then the legs. Seal their movements, then aim for the head. Since reloading takes a while, use another loaded fusil to fire the next shots."

"Heh, I can't wait for you to grow up and train our troops." chuckled Gregory, "I hope you plan to enter the Military Academy in the future."

The assassin crept closer, unhindered.

"BANG!"

Gregory's fusil fired a shot, and the bullet accurately landed on the assassin's shoulder. When it hit, just as Malachi suggested, Gregory shot the assassin's leg, and subsequently blew away the head with the fusil they looted from the first two assassins.

"BANG! BANG!"

The assassin fell as it died.

"Five kills, seven more." announced Malachi, "Pops should be ready anytime now... Oops."

"BANG!"

A shot zipped towards the window where Malachi and Gregory were. Malachi, fortunately, saw the muzzle aimed at him, and ducked immediately. More gunshots arrived at their location.

"BANG! BANG! BANG!"

Malachi lay on the floor, covering his head, and calmly took a peek afterwards. However, his curiosity was abated when Gregory pulled him down to the floor.

"Are you out of your mind!?" he berated the child, "I get that you're used to situations like this, but hell, don't forget the promise you made to Bashia!"

"Sorry." apologized Malachi, "We may have to relocate to another window, and also barricade the door."

Just then, gunfire erupted from above and a shot killed an assassin hiding behind a rock. The same assassin that got shot in the leg earlier.

"Now, we relocate while Pops got their attention." advised Malachi, "Bring something heavy to block the entrance, too. Six down, six to go. I wish we had grenades."

Gregory stood up from his nest while Emmanuel was laying down fire from above. The assassins were then preoccupied with Emmanuel's height advantage, and a pair attempted to reach a higher rock. The other assassins also gave covering fire by shooting Emmanuel's position.

"Faster, Uncle Greg." advised Malachi, "Two assassins had split from the main force and are climbing a rock."

"Gotcha." affirmed Gregory, "Is this place good?"

Gregory and Malachi had arrived at another window, still facing the front yard. From their position, they were now looking at the assassins from an open angle.

"Very good." replied Malachi, "Take this chance to get rid of at least two of them. Their heads are exposed from here, but the distance requires adjustments to your aim."

Gregory crouched before the window, and raised his fusil. The same stance he used earlier, and took time to aim properly.

"Don't be too excited." whispered Malachi, "Control your breathing so the fusil won't shake. Once you've fully breathed in, pause, then take the shot. After taking the shot, release you breath, then repeat."

Gregory turned his eyes towards the boy next to him. Malachi, with his red eyes, sternly gazed upon the outside, and his breath was steadier than Gregory's.

'This guy...' thought Gregory, 'What did he do in the past to know all of these?'

"Don't let your mind wander, Uncle Greg." advised Malachi still looking outside, "Once you're ready—then again, we are never ready—take the shot."

Gregory closed his eyes.

'I am the youngest Royal Phoenix. The leader of this kingdom's military. To think I would receive advice from a child—no, not a child...'

Opening his eyes, Gregory revealed intense concentration. Taking Malachi's advice into consideration, his breathing became steady, and his focus became better. His arms also shook less, and was able to move as intended in an ironically relaxed state. Gregory's finger pulled the trigger.

"BANG!"

Gregory's shot flew straight and true towards an assassin hiding behind another rock. The head wasn't hit, but the neck blew open from the large bullet, leaving the assassin to bleed to death.

Seeing their comrade fall next to them, the assassins shifted their attention towards Gregory. That was, until Gregory grabbed the next fusil and let loose another shot, hitting an assassin's torso dead center.

"BANG!"

The assassin fell on his back and had difficulty breathing. The two remaining assassins were now panicking and were about to retreat.

Above, on the second floor, Emmanuel was watching the events unfold.

'Unbelievable.' he thought, 'Is this Gregory's or Malachi's?'

He also watched as the two remaining assassins on the ground were about to flee. Taking aim, he shot one assassin on the back, pushing him on the ground.

"BANG!"

"BANG!"

Another shot erupted from Gregory's position, and landed on the second fleeing assassin, incapacitating his legs. The two assassins that split from the main force watched helplessly as their comrades fell one after another. Turning around to flee, Malachi shouted.

"They are fleeing! Don't let them do so!" he ordered, "Let none reach their employer!"

This time, Gregory broke the window open, and jumped outside to chase the fleeing assassins. Emmanuel ran back downstairs, vaulted over a makeshift barricade, and went after the assassins together with Gregory. As for Malachi, he had to stay to keep his promise with Bashia.

///

"Is it safe?" asked Bashia.

Malachi went towards the cabinet where they first his together. Malachi knocked and called or the others.

"For now, yes." replied Malachi, "Pops and Uncle Greg went after the remaining assassins to ensure that they won't return alive."

"What!? Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of ensuring his safety!?" cried Bashia, "Emmanuel!"

"Mama... Mama! They can handle the two remaining assassins." assured Malachi, "Judging from the panic in the enemies' eyes, they wouldn't pose a threat."

"How... How can you be so sure?" questioned Bashia, "Did you do something?"

"I merely advised Uncle Greg." answered Malachi, "How the enemy felt after that, I had no hand in it."

Soon, footsteps were heard in the hallway.

"Bashia! Malachi! We're back!" shouted Emmanuel, "We got rid of them all!"

Malachi smiled at his mother.

"See?" he said.

Bashia squeezed Malachi harder, and carried him off to meet Emmanuel. In the entryway, Emmanuel and Gregory stood next to a pile of fusils and ammunition that they had looted from the corpses. Twelve fusils and twelve bags of ammunition.

"Pack your things." said Emmanuel, "We will be leaving this place as it is no longer safe. We can't be too sure that absolutely no one else knows of this place. Doc, you're coming with us, as our family's physician."