Soulcalibur 5: Thus Spoke Cervantes

I've played my fair share of fighting games this console generation…which is to say, almost all of them.  I’m nothing special in terms of skill; at the very least, I’m not one of those “Flowchart Kens” you hear so much about.  Even so, going up against an enemy that can turn me into sauerkraut is pretty much an average Wednesday for me -- to the point where I don’t even flinch at the thought of hitting Continue against the average “SNK Boss.”  You know the type.  A ridiculous damage and defense boost.  Insane speed and virtual clairvoyance.  Often, a screen-filling super move.  Or just moves that make you want to slam your head against every wall in your house.

I’ve taken on and beaten plenty of ‘em.  King of Fighters XI’s Magaki?  Your fireballs won’t stop me forever.  Street Fighter 4’s Seth?  Eat a Flash Kick.  Tekken 5’s Jinpachi?  Miraculously, defeating him is as easy as using a jump kick over and over -- a universal move that the transformed Mishima can’t help but take every time he gets up from the last hit.

But then, something happened.  It was a fateful night in Soulcalibur 5 -- a story for the ages.  Now, if you’ll allow me to invoke the muses…

On a chilling moonlit night now past

My brother begged the die be cast

To take his mantle, ease his pride

And venture to where victory lied.

“That wretched Kilik, such a fool!

I only wished to look quite cool

Through rapid strikes and swiftest edge

That spiky hair I hoped to hedge!”

He paced about, and bit his lip

Contemplating his next quip.

“That staff of his is quite the threat --

But face him and you’ll win, I bet!”

A call to arms, a push to fight

I saw his tactics come to light

To goad me into vicious measures

And partly for his viewing pleasure.

“You seek a duel?  Then fair enough.

We’ll see if I am up to snuff.

I’ll raise my blade against thine foe

And grant a taste of abject woe.”

A moment’s breadth was all I needed

To feel my breath grow quick and heated;

I’d face my brother’s greatest foe

With Raphael’s torrent of blows.

Before you think I’ve put on airs

My blade has sliced all those who dare

To stand against me in this game --

I’ll best them all, kin, friend, or dame.

Such was my being, half-score ago

When one birthday I would know

The joy of swords, the eight-way run;

My foe’s defense would come undone.

Yes, I had played game number two

With Raphael’s grandest debut

Though seasons passed, and hours gone

My inner warrior lives on.

Three, four, and five I’d owned as well

But with fifth game, I’d raise quick hell

With highs and lows, I’d bring defeat

To foes, whilst atop nimble feet.

“Legendary Souls -- that’s where

My greatest rival hides his lair?”

I asked, and the confirmation

Only raised determination.

With Raph in tow, I went all in

To now avenge frustrated kin

But to my shock, my foe proved strong;

His blows, precise; his reach, too long.

“What sorcery is this?” I yelled.

Such savagery I’d not beheld

In any game, where foes would pound

Even on those that lie aground.

I drew on power long untapped --

As if this poet had now snapped! --

Through quickest blows and raining strikes

I thrust his head upon my pike.

“Today I triumph!  One foe down!

It merely cost me twenty rounds!

But never fear, my task’s not done;

My fight won’t end till mode I’ve won!”

I felt a rolling swell of heat

At the thought of new foes to mete

Out losses via rapier’s grace

Like Fenrir’s fang, yet smooth as lace.

And so I ventured to the ring

Twice in a row, the game did sing

Of foes who swung such massive blades

They batted me about in spades.

But every loss was but a trifle;

My fighting spirit never stifled!

“Nightmare -- you beast! -- though you are fast

I’ll keep my guard; your stage I’ll pass!”

“And Siegfried, power mixed with guile

Bewitching with your countless styles

Your stances won’t leave me entranced;

You’ll soon behold my vict’ry dance!”

So it was written, for all time

Immortalized within my rhymes:

Kilik, Nightmare, and Siegfried down

And soon enough, I’d take the crown.

But as they say, four equals death;

So came the beast to draw last breath

From Raphael; the room did chill --

And for a time, my heart grew still.

“Cervantes?!” I did blurt aloud

As I beheld his ghastly shroud.

The phantom pirate stood before

My swordsman to even the score.

I steeled myself to brave the fight

Unable to repress my fright.

Somehow I knew, in my mind’s eye

His ship was where my dreams would die.

I did my best, mixed up my blows

But soon fell prey to dastard’s throws.

His strength and speed, beyond my ken;

His blades, far worse than lion’s den.

“A teleport?!” I yelled too late;

I had no time to contemplate

A heartbeat’s time was all it took

To steal my win -- just like a crook.

But worst of all, his spin assault

To make me brave a fierce tumult

Of spiral blows, to rend my flesh

Faster than even Gilgamesh.

But he did not merely throw it out;

No, to ensure a speedy rout

He flung me down, and with three spins

Drained half my soul -- often to win.

“Impossible!  Such brutal force --

How could he deftly run a course

That shredded me, and all my limbs

And all that from a flighty whim?”

“His guard’s too strong; blows won’t connect

Too often he’s the architect

Of my disgrace -- my moves and plans

Dashed about with but a hand!”

Twas not a statement said simply once

But countless times; a foppish dunce

Cervantes made me out to be

With perfect rounds quite reg’larly.

And when he staved off daunting twirl

(Making me weep like some schoolgirl)

A sonic blast from loaded gun

Was all it took to end my fun.

“This cannot be.  Surely he jests;

Against this foe, I’ve done my best!

My every tactic, merely dashed

Cast in his flames -- and burned to ash!”

I placed my pad upon the floor

Agape, unfit to absorb more

Of torture from the pirate lord;

Even my brother had grown bored.

“The moon, she sets,” he then announced

Having witnessed every trounce.

“I suggest you now retire

Before your mind becomes too dire.”

I lowered my head, and felt fatigue;

That ghost proved well beyond my league

And countless fights, their toll I felt

As if he’d stripped me of a pelt.

“Confound it.  Yes, you’re right; I fold

Mayhap my mission was too bold.

To best a game, while still untrained

And now I must depart in shame.”

“O damnable fate!  Tricks of God!

For my hubris, I am but sod!

Impulsiveness has left me dead

And thus, farewell!  I’m off to bed.”

And so it was that I did part

With jagged lump of coal in heart.

Beneath my sheets, I knew lament

My iron will, that ghost had bent.

Yet as I drifted off to sleep

A certain fact began to creep

Into my mind, to taint my thoughts

To assuage my gloomy lot.

I’d bested bosses oft before

Even at the cost of scores;

Continues that I used in droves

Went towards besting dastards loathed.

And so if I should claim a win

I needed only rise again

To hone my blade, hasten my steps

And further boost my gaming rep.

I turned my head upon its side

A smile thus began to stride

Across my face, as plan I shaped

To have my vengeance ‘gainst that ape.

“Cervantes!  Cretin!  A.I. wretch!

My spirit’s here; you’ve yet to fetch

My head.  And by the planet’s turns

Beware my wrath!  My soul still burns!”