Destroyer of Legends

by Clayton Wood

  The guard crumpled.

  Hunter finished the man off, then rejoined Vi, who was busy yanking her sword free from the other guard’s neck.

  “Incoming,” she warned.

  More guards were rushing down the long hallway toward them, spilling out of a door at the end of it. There were at least ten of them.

  “I take nine, you take the other one?” Vi proposed.

  “Uh huh.”

  The guards rushed at Vi and Hunter, two of them reaching Hunter and thrusting their swords at him. He backpedaled, blocking both swords, but one guard thrust again. Hunter cursed, pulling his wings forward in front of him quickly; this forced him backward, his boots sliding against the granite floor…and the guard’s thrust missed him by mere inches.

  Hunter batted the sword away, slashing the man’s throat open. Then he kicked the doomed guard back, blocking a string of attacks from the second guard.

  This guard was clearly better than the first.

  Hunter went on the defensive, backpedaling as the guard continued to attack him, each swing and thrust followed rapidly by another. One thrust slammed into his metal breastplate, knocking him off-balance. He grunted, barely blocking a follow-up slash to his throat. But still the guard pressed forward, slashing at Hunter’s left thigh.

  The blade sliced through his armor there, blood flowing from the wound.

  Hunter swore, leaping backward and flapping his wings. This sent him flying up and away from the guard; he sheathed his sword, drawing his bow and firing an arrow into the man’s face.

  He dropped to the floor, grimacing as pain shot through his left thigh. Then he watched as Vi finished off the last of the other guards, thrusting her sword into their groin. She walked up to Hunter then.

  “Wow,” he muttered. “Dick move.”

  “You okay?” she asked, gesturing at his leg.

  “Flesh wound,” he reassured her. Then he walked up to the guard he’d shot, retrieving his arrow from the man’s eye-socket. “After you.”

  They continued to the door at the end of the hallway, and Vi kicked it open. Another hallway greeted them, one with a long line of doors on either side. And there was a guard posted at every one of them.

  Vi burst forward, unsheathing her sword and running for the nearest guards.

  Hunter grabbed his bow, firing arrow after arrow at the guards, taking four of them out before any of them got the bright idea to use their shields to block them.

  Then he leapt into the air, spreading his wings and flying upward to the ceiling twenty feet above.

  Catch me now, he thought with a smirk, nocking another arrow, then firing it at one of the guards’ faces as they stared up at him. The arrow buried itself in the man’s open mouth.

  The other guards raised their shields up above their heads…and were promptly cut down by Vi.

  Which made half the guards lower their shields again.

  Hunter smiled grimly, firing at the guards who’d lowered their shields, picking them off one-by-one. Then he glided down toward one of the few remaining guards, unsheathing his sword and folding his wings in mid-air. He dropped like a stone toward the guard, chopping down at the man’s head.

  His blade cut right through the man’s helmet…and skull.

  “Nice move,” Vi said, walking up to Hunter.

  “Really got the drop on him,” he quipped, jerking his sword free from the guard’s head. Vi rolled her eyes.

  “Just stop. Please.”

  They made their way down this new hallway, passing the doors on either side.

  “You know where you’re going?” Hunter asked.

  “Nope.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” he pressed.

  “We don’t exactly have the floorplans for the Acropolis,” she pointed out. “We need to let the Ironclad in, then search the whole place until we find Tykus.”

  They reached the end of the hallway, which had another door; they went through, finding stairs leading forward and downward to yet another hallway. Vi started down the stairs, and Hunter glanced down at his injured thigh, then at the long staircase.

  Yeah, no.

  He ran off the edge, spreading his wings and gliding down, gently landing at the bottom. They continued down the hallway.

  “Jesus,” Hunter muttered. “Is this place all hallways?”

  He heard screaming from ahead, and spotted a whole ton of guards at the opposite end of the hallway. All surrounding a huge black creature with a glowing blue mane and tail.

  “Reinforcements have arrived,” Vi declared.

  And then Xerxes attacked.

  Limbs and bodies flew into the air as Xerxes demolished the guards, tearing arms and legs clean off, and even the occasional head. The guards fought back, but it was hopeless. Within moments, they were dead…all except for a few that had the good sense to flee. Those died to Vi and Hunter instead.

  “Hey Blue!” Vi called out. Xerxes stomped up to them, what few wounds he’d incurred healing rapidly. He grinned at them.

  “HEY.”

  More Ironclad came through the doorway behind them, congregating behind Xerxes.

  “WHAT…PLAN?” Xerxes inquired.

  “Go floor to floor, find Tykus,” Vi answered. Hunter perked up suddenly.

  “It’s in the basement level, just below the first floor,” he stated. Vi stared at him.

  “And how do you know that?”

  “My…er, Dominus’s memories,” he explained. “The ones I absorbed back in Wexford.”

  “All right then,” Vi declared. “Let’s do this.”

  * * *

  Xerxes’ feet thumped on the granite floor as he led Hunter, Vi, and his troops down yet another hallway of the Acropolis. They’d cleared out much of the second floor of the huge building, then gone down to the first, and now the basement level. Thanks to Dominus’s memories, Hunter knew they were getting close.

  A guard burst out from one of the side-doors in front of Xerxes, and Xerxes bopped him atop the head with one big fist. The man’s neck crunched, and he fell to the floor, his limbs twitching. Xerxes didn’t even skip a beat, continuing down the long corridor.

  More guards spilled out of a larger door to the right, armed with greatshields and warhammers.

  “For the king!” they cried.

  Xerxes broke into an all-out run, barreling toward the guards. There had to be at least thirty of them.

  Not that he cared.

  He rushed right up to them, leaping head-first into the crowd and smashing into their shields. They flew backward with the force of the impact, knocking down the guards behind them like bowling pins and falling to the floor.

  Xerxes leapt on one of them, pummeling their head and chest with his four fists, their facial bones crumpling under the onslaught. He stood up then, feeling swords bouncing off his back and arms, and grabbed the nearest guard’s sword by the blade, tearing it out of the man’s hands and plunging it into his chest. Right through his metal breastplate.

  “Need any help?” he heard Vi ask from behind. He twisted around to look at her, then shook his head, even as more swords clanged off his body from all around.

  “NO.”

  Then a warhammer struck him in the middle of the back with a loud crack. He stumbled forward, then caught himself, spinning around and backfisting a guard in the temple. The man’s helmet caved in, blood pouring down his neck.

  Another guard swung their warhammer at Xerxes, smashing him in the back of the head.

  That hurt.

  His vision blackened, his knees buckling. Another hammer struck him, smashing him in the face.

  Anger welled up inside him, growing with every blow. With every fresh burst of pain.

  He roared, lashing out blindly, his hands closing on someone’s limb. He pulled it taut, then smashed his ruined forehead against it, feeling the limb snap. Pain shot through his skull, but he welcomed it. He savored it. Let it feed his rage.

  His vision returned, and he found him
self on his knees, surrounded by guards.

  Xerxes grabbed two of their heads, smashing them together, then flinging them to either side. He tore a warhammer from a guard’s hands, rising to his feet and swinging it around in a circle. It struck guard after guard, sending them flying.

  Then he chucked the hammer at another guard’s head, nearly taking it clean off the man’s shoulders.

  The rest of the guards fell quickly, and soon Xerxes was standing in the middle of a pile of bodies and severed limbs, covered in blood.

  “Not the most elegant display of fighting skill I’ve ever seen, but effective,” Vi declared, walking up to Xerxes and patting him on the arm.

  “Nice work bro,” Hunter agreed. “Come on.”

  They went through the large door the guards had come through, finding a wide staircase leading down to a wide hallway. At the end of it were two huge metal doors, both of which were closed. Xerxes ran down the stairs, watching as Hunter glided down beside him.

  Not for the first time, he wished he had wings.

  He reached the bottom of the stairs, then sprinted up to the huge double-doors, ramming into them. And then ricocheting off.

  They didn’t even budge.

  Xerxes grunted, flashing a few hand signals to an Ironclad behind him, one carrying a warhammer. The Ironclad lifted his weapon up and smashed it into the floor right before the doors…but it bounced off with a loud clang. The floor immediately underneath the doors was metal as well.

  “Break up the granite,” Vi suggested.

  The Ironclad did so, smashing their warhammer into the granite flooring just in front of the doors. After a few minutes, he’d made a sizable hole. But the metal flooring under the doors extended as far down as the hole did; there was no way to get under.

  “Well shit,” Vi muttered.

  “Now what?” Hunter asked.

  “The ceiling,” Vi proposed. “If we can get one floor above, and dig through that floor, we can get in.”

  “The ceiling’s twenty feet high,” Hunter pointed out.

  “And you can fly me in,” Vi reminded him. “And Xerxes can just go splat and heal.”

  “And then we open the doors from the inside and let them in,” Hunter concluded. “Got it.”

  Suddenly there was a loud thunk, and then a screeching sound of metal on metal from beyond the double-doors. Then another thunk, and the doors swung slowly open.

  “That won’t be necessary,” a voice from beyond stated.

  Chapter 29

  Hunter watched as the huge metal doors opened, revealing a long hallway beyond, the walls lined with guards. And there, standing before them, was a tall, slender man dressed in a simple gold, blue, and white robe. He looked to be Hunter’s age, with long blonde hair and a long beard, and the man’s sharp blue eyes regarded each of them calmly. Hunter drew his sword, staring the man down.

  “And who are you?” he inquired.

  “I am King Tykus,” the man declared calmly. “And who, may I ask, are you?”

  Hunter stared at the man, hardly believing his ears.

  “You’re the king?” he blurted out.

  “Yes.”

  “But…” Hunter protested.

  “He’s a reincarnation,” Vi explained. “The old king died a month or two ago. They exposed some poor kid to Tykus’s Ossae.”

  “That is correct,” Tykus agreed. “Please,” he added, “…introduce yourselves.”

  “This is Hunter,” Vi replied. “I’m Vi. And this is Xerxes,” she added, gesturing at the big guy. “This is our army,” she said, gesturing at the Ironclad.

  “Welcome,” Tykus greeted.

  “Are we though?” Vi countered.

  “My doors are open.”

  “Granted,” Vi conceded. “But only after we kicked your army’s ass.”

  Tykus chuckled.

  “You’ll find my army is many times larger than you may have anticipated,” he replied. “If I were to wish it, you would not find getting out so easy as you did getting in.”

  “You sure about that?” Vi retorted.

  “Quite.”

  “So you’re saying you just let us in here?” Hunter asked incredulously. “I call bullshit.”

  “Not at first,” Tykus admitted. “Your tunneling under the walls was quite successful, and unexpected. But I ordered the bulk of my army to fall back when I heard who was leading the charge,” he added, gesturing at Xerxes.

  “Gonna have to explain that,” Vi grumbled.

  “He’s Neesha’s boy,” Tykus explained.

  Vi glanced at Hunter, who glanced at Xerxes. Xerxes grunted.

  “Okay, now I’m confused,” Hunter admitted.

  “If you let us in here, then you’re an idiot,” Vi stated, crossing her arms over her chest. “We’re armed and you’re not. I could kill you in a heartbeat.”

  “Probably,” Tykus agreed.

  Vi just stared at him.

  “You sure you’re the ‘great’ King Tykus?” she asked. “Because so far I’m not impressed.”

  “To be fair,” Tykus replied, “…you haven’t taken a chance to get to know me yet.”

  “Not interested,” Vi shot back. “This is purely business.” Tykus smiled.

  “Business is always personal.”

  “Spare me the bullshit,” Vi grumbled. “Why’d you order the dukes to go to wipe out the Ironclad?”

  “You mean the dukes I killed?” Tykus inquired. “They’re hardly in a position to execute my orders.”

  Vi frowned.

  “You killed your own dukes?”

  Just then, a man sprinted into the great hall through the double-doors; a middle-aged man with short blonde hair, a stern face, and wearing a simple black shirt and pants. He skid to a halt before the assembled Ironclad, his eyes widening.

  “Your Highness!” the man cried.

  “All except for one,” Tykus corrected, smiling at the man. “Hello Dominus.”

  Hunter’s eyes widened, and he stared at the man incredulously, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.

  “Wait, this is Dominus?” he asked Vi. “I thought he was old. And, you know, dead.”

  “He was,” Vi confirmed. “Blue’s head must’ve changed that.”

  “What’s going on?” Dominus demanded.

  “It seems Vi, Hunter, and the Ironclad have moved against us,” Tykus replied calmly. “A pre-emptive strike after they received word that the Kingdom was planning to attack them.”

  “Hey Dominus,” Vi greeted, putting her hands on her hips. “Miss me?”

  “Step away from the king at once!” Dominus commanded, drawing his sword and glaring at them.

  “You killed my friend, asshole,” Hunter spat. “Then you tried to kill Vi and my brother!” He strode toward Dominus, his mouth set in a grim line. “And now I’m gonna kill you.”

  “Whoa there kiddo,” Vi said, stepping in front of him and stopping him with an outstretched hand. “Reel it in.”

  “No,” Hunter said, shoving her hand away. “He doesn’t get to live after everything he did to us!”

  “By all means,” Dominus stated, eyeing him coldly. “Make the attempt.”

  “Enough!” Tykus shouted, his voice suddenly powerful. It cut right to Hunter’s soul, stopping him in his tracks. He turned toward the king.

  “I don’t take…” he began, but Vi cut him off.

  “Shut up Hunter,” she ordered. “Now.”

  Hunter’s mouth clicked shut. He glared at her, but obeyed. Tykus sighed, turning to Hunter. The king walked right up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’ve lived oh, over a hundred lifetimes,” he stated. “And I can tell you that if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that revenge is a poison. One that you drink first before handing it to your enemy.”

  “I’m not letting him get away with what he did,” Hunter retorted, pulling his shoulder away.

  “Of course not,” Tykus agreed. “But killing him would onl
y be necessary if he continued to pose a threat to you. Which, I assure you, he does not.”

  “Says the man who ordered the genocide of the Ironclad,” Vi pointed out. Tykus grimaced.

  “I ordered it only to appease my dukes,” he replied. “Dukes that I had every intention of…replacing before they had any opportunity to carry out that order. I have no animosity toward your people,” he added, nodding at Xerxes. “Or Neesha.”

  Hunter blinked.

  “You know my mother?” he asked. It was Tykus’s turn to look surprised.

  “You’re her son?” he inquired. He had the audacity to laugh. “Oh, what a tangled web you’ve woven, Dominus!”

  “My liege, I…”

  “Oh, don’t bother defending yourself,” Tykus interrupted. “Their minds are already made up.” He turned to Vi. “I ordered the Ironclad destroyed knowing full well the Guild of Seekers would turn against the kingdom. I used the opportunity to purge my dukes, strip Dominus of his title, and destroy the guild. Neesha was never in any danger…not that I could ever pose a danger to her.”

  “What do you mean?” Vi asked.

  “Why, she’s invincible, naturally,” Tykus replied, his eyes twinkling. “And she’s a Legend, whereas I am a mere copy of one. If she chose, she could march through Tykus and single-handedly destroy it, changing everyone within into a lesser copy of herself. Including me.”

  No one said anything. It was painfully obvious that Tykus was right.

  “So why,” the king continued, “…would I ever attempt to move against her?”

  Vi lowered her gaze, shaking her head.

  “Well shit,” she muttered.

  “But…” Hunter began, but Vi shot him a glare. He grimaced.

  “I have no animosity toward you,” Tykus insisted calmly. “Even though you’ve invaded my home, killed my guards, and threatened my life. I have every reason to seek revenge on you, wouldn’t you agree?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow at Hunter.

  Hunter lowered his gaze, swallowing in a dry throat.

  “But I understand this was all a misunderstanding,” Tykus continued. “And in talking with each other – and listening to each other – we can do far more good than anything accomplished by the edge of our blades.”