Chapter 6: Hail to the King

Photo by: Ron Coleman (Flickr.com creative commons license)

Hello everyone! This chapter contains depictions of blood, violence against a child, and coarse language. The good news is that nobody dies! Discretion is advised.

Hunter and Red stared at Cal, shocked by his audacity. Hunter fumbled for words, finally reaching something that he could use.

“What the fuck is going on?” He demanded. Cal chuckled callously.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, Hunter?” He asked, walking closer. “How about I show you instead? Drop that disguise and show them the glory of the king!”

The man at Cal’s side adjusted his tie. Then he smiled, and stepped into a cloak of shadow. As he emerged, his suit had vanished. He now wore a pristine white tunic over chainmail armor. At his hip hung a gleaming sword, made of flawless steel. A brilliant red cape unfurled from his shoulders, bearing a crown. He stood proud, drawing his sword and holding the pristine steel aloft. Hunter trembled as he stared at the heroic figure.

Beowulf crossed his arms defiantly. He scoffed, unamused by the king’s presence.

“I kneel to no king,” he spat. “Especially not a faker like you! Back in my day, kings were kings for their deeds. Not because they pulled some brittle old relic from a rock!”

“I think you’ll find Arthur is more than great enough on his own, right?” Cal bragged. He grinned at Beowulf. Beowulf rolled his eyes dismissively and drew his sword. The young girl crossed her arms and stared at Cal.

“We’ll see how great your king is when Beowulf pounds him into the ground!” she said. Cal laughed, doubling over in his mirth.

“Don’t take this guy lightly,” Hunter warned, his hands shaking. “He’s been hurting a lot of people.”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” said the girl. “Beowulf! Let’s take this guy down a peg!”

“I’m absolutely terrified!” said Cal with a gleeful smile. “Hunter, either get on board or get out of my way!”

“Red, let’s take him!” Hunter ordered, drawing his cards. Red nodded and took a fighting stance.

[Fight song: Legendary - Skillet]

Cal drew his cards, letting them hang in the air in front of him. With his free hand, he raised another set of cards.

“Two against one is hardly fair. Let’s even the odds!” he said with a wicked smile. From his hip flew an orb of rich purple light, transforming into a golden lamp. The lamp sat on the ground, drawing Hunter’s eye. The girl rolled her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter if you have two heroes, or twenty!” she declared. “Beowulf is gonna beat you up!”

“As you command!” Beowulf roared, lunging at Arthur with his sword raised. He delivered a powerful slash, Arthur raising his sword to block. The two swords collided, sparks flying as the sound of metal on metal rang out like a bell. The sound made Hunter’s teeth rattle in his skull. He looked at Red. She looked at him, and their eyes locked in silent understanding. No matter what, Cal had to be stopped.

“Red! Attack!” he ordered, but Cal waggled a condescending finger.

“Your opponent is here, Hunter,” he taunted. Smoke began to pour from the mouth of the lamp, swirling around Red. The girl coughed, leaping away from the smoke as the swirling vapor began to take form. As the smoke took a humanoid shape, two glowing white eyes opened inside the coalescing mist. A booming voice rang out.

“I am freed!”

Hunter stared at his foe. The smoke had finally begun to fade, leaving a bearded figure wearing rich purple robes and a turban decorated with a long feather. The figure crossed his muscular arms, and his eyes glowed with power.

“I am freed!” He declared, his powerful voice rattling windows. He raised his hand and fired a beam of energy from his fingertip. Hunter threw a card, and Red deflected the attack with her hand. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. The Genie of the lamp fired another beam, narrowly grazing Little Red’s cheek. She rolled to the side and braced herself. Then, the Genie began floating into the air. Smoke billowed from his sleeves as he gathered his power.

“He gets three attacks?” Hunter cried in disbelief. “I've only ever seen two!”

“That's Infinite Power for you, Hunter!” Cal boasted. “As long as I pay the price, the Genie can act three times!”

“Does he ever shut up?” Red asked. The Genie narrowed his eyes, locking on the little girl. He raised a hand, sparks flying from his fingertips, as a bolt of lightning screamed down from the sky. Hunter barely had enough time to mount a defense, throwing out a card just in time to mitigate the damage. He breathed a sigh of relief as Red rolled to her feet, still singed by the lightning strike. They needed a new plan.

“Red, keep him on the run and stay out of the open!” He ordered. Red nodded and dove through a window, shattering the glass. The Genie watched, amused by his opponent's antics.

As Red tore through her cover, Beowulf and Arthur remained locked in a deadly duel. Arthur raised his sword to Beowulf, swinging with a deadly strike. Beowulf shrugged off the hit, growling as his rage built.

“I will teach you to be cautious when you insult someone,” mocked Arthur. “Beowulf, king of honey; slayer of mead!”

“You talk too much,” said Beowulf, spitting onto the ground. He parried Arthur's next attack, glancing the blade off his shield. Arthur smirked as he locked eyes. It was more than a battle of kings, it was a battle of legends.

—

Arthur blocked the first of Beowulf’s swings, though the second clipped his beard. Arthur rubbed at the cropped hair, gritting his teeth. He held Excalibur aloft, the blade charging with energy. Then he swung, cracking the blade off Beowulf's shield with a thunderous strike. Beowulf's eyes opened, glowing red with burning fury.

“You hit hard,” he said. “But you are no Grendel.”

“You're right,” said Arthur. He took a guarded stance, ready for Beowulf as the war-king charged forward, frothing with rage.

—

Little Red flew through the buildings, dodging occasional blasts from the Genie's fingertips. The Genie paused his onslaught, looking intently at the walls. He raised his hands to the sky, gathering storm clouds high above.

“Come out, little girl!” The Genie demanded, thunder rumbling above. “Or I'll bring these buildings down around you!”

“Boo!” Said Little Red, landing a spinning kick to the Genie's face. The Genie recoiled, holding his aching jaw.

“You insolent brat!” He cried out as the clouds dissipated. Hunter clenched his fists. He wasn't going to hold out much longer, he knew it. He could only hope for a miracle to fight a monster like this.

—

Beowulf delivered a devastating slash with his sword, staggering Arthur. The king raised an ornate goblet, drinking in the wine. He reverently set the goblet on the ground and wiped the wine from his beard. He glared at Beowulf, gripping the hilt of his sword. He raised the sword and swung again. Beowulf blocked with his shield. His player stepped forward to gloat.

“You can hit Beowulf as often as you like,” she bragged. “It just makes him angrier. And when he's angry? He just hits harder!”

“Sounds like I just need to hit him really hard, all at once,” Cal said smugly. He glanced at Arthur, who nodded solemnly. The king raised his blade once again, charging it with his power. The blade began to crackle, as though the metal was screaming against the energy it was being forced to contain. Beowulf scoffed, stepping forward and raising his blade to strike.

“Taste the power of the sword of kings!” Declared Arthur, swinging his beacon of a sword into Beowulf’s side. The hit landed with such force that it blew the warrior off his feet, sending him flying into the strip mall. He slammed into the concrete with enough force to leave a crater. He let out a ragged breath, a golden ichor dripping from the wound. His sword clattered to the ground as he feebly raised his hand.

—

“Beowulf?” The girl said meekly. She ran over to her hero, grabbing his hand. “Come on, Beowulf! Pick up your sword! You gotta fight!”

“Grenda,” said Beowulf shakily. “Do not weep for me, child.”

“You can't die, Beowulf!” the girl cried. “You're the strongest Hero!”

“You are so much stronger than you know…” rasped Beowulf, his body dissolving into a cascade of golden sparkles. A single tear landed in Grenda's grasping palm, and the tiny girl broke down in tears. Her shoulders shuddered as grief turned to rage.

Cal admired the new deck hanging from his belt. He approached the girl, an insufferable smile contorting his lips.

“You have something I want,” he said casually. Grenda turned, glaring at him from under a tangle of dark hair. Her eyes burned with a dark fury, her tiny frame trembling with unbridled anger.

“Give him back!” She shrieked, lunging at Cal. Cal faltered as he stepped back, tripping over a parking barrier and landing on his rear. Grenda screamed as she reached for him, trying to take back her hero by force.

“Arthur! Do something!” Cal screamed. For all his bluster, he was a coward to the core. Arthur raised his sword, swatting Grenda aside as easily as a fly. A crimson crescent flew from the wound, staining the concrete a grim red. Grenda hit the ground, clutching the wound and sobbing. Cal stood, taking a moment to compose himself.

“Now that you remember who's in charge,” he said, stepping closer to the wounded girl. “Your other deck. Hand it over.”

“Give Beowulf back…” the girl sobbed, clutching her bloody wound. Tears of hate streamed down her cheeks. “He's not yours!”

“I'm a reasonable man,” said Cal. “I'll make you a trade. Your deck for Beowulf.”

“You promise?” The girl asked, glaring at Cal. The man smirked.

“You'll get exactly what's coming to you,” he said with an impish grin. Grenda faltered. She glanced at the deck hanging from Cal’s belt.

“Don't do it!” Hunter called out. He ran towards Grenda, but the Genie moved to interpose. His hands crackled with dangerous energy, his threat quite implicit. Hunter grit his teeth.

“Fine,” said the girl after a long pause. She fumbled the deck from her belt loop and threw it to Cal. “Now give him back! You promised!”

“Did I?” Cal replied as he caught the deck. He admired the new cards hungrily. “I don't recall that at all.”

“You bastard! You said you'd give him back!” Grenda cried, reaching out weakly. Cal chuckled, his voice dripping with malevolence.

“Arthur, kill her.”

“No!” Cried Hunter, rushing past the Genie as Arthur raised his sword. He ran forward, reaching out to try and stop the king. He had to do something - he couldn't do nothing! Not again! As Arthur raised his blade even higher to fulfill his grin task, Hunter heard a sharp whistling through the air. Arthur perked up, jerking his hand away as an arrow narrowly glanced off his blade.

“Who fucking dares!?” Cal shrieked. Everyone looked to the source of the arrow. Standing on the roof of the strip mall was a woman, an elegant figure in a white dress. She held a bow, and wore sunglasses and a newsboy cap. She gingerly plucked the cap and tossed it to the side, unfurling a riot of hissing snakes where her hair should be.

“Medusa,” Cal spat, glaring up at the archer. “That means…”

“You lay a finger on that girl and the next one goes right between your eyes!” Said the olive-skinned girl. Hunter's eyes widened. He couldn't remember her name, but he knew this girl from school. Now, she'd just revealed her hand as a player. Cal grit his teeth, then broke out laughing.

“It must be my lucky day!” He clapped.

Hey everyone, thanks for reading this chapter! The next few are going to be pretty heavy, so brace yourselves going in. If you like what I'm doing here, check out my ko-fi at https://ko-fi.com/catapultcrashtester

Any support is appreciated, and goes toward all my projects. Thanks again for reading, and we'll see you in the next chapter!

Chapter 6: Hail to the King

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