The OP MC 5: God of Winning

by Logan Jacobs

  “Have a seat,” the old woman insisted as she gestured to the couch that would obviously only hold one of the three of us comfortably. Then she took the solitary chair on the other side of the living room.

  The three of us exchanged a look, and Jaxtom sighed before he stepped forward and sat down on the loveseat. Riondale and I took up a position behind the small couch, and we both crossed our arms over our chests like we were the blacksmith’s bodyguards.

  “What brings you to town, Jaxy?” The old woman smoothed out the wrinkles of her faded blue skirt, but the hue perfectly matched the shade of her eyes. Her hair was mostly gray with strings of auburn, and she’d woven it back into an intricate bun on the nape of her neck.

  I resisted the urge to chuckle at the muscular blacksmith being called “Jaxy” since I didn’t want to insult the old woman.

  “Yaya, these are my friends,” Jax said in a soft voice I’d never heard him use before. “This here is Bash, and the little one is Rion. We’re here to see Aryon.”

  “Oh, dear…” Yaya’s eyes filled with tears. “You don’t know?”

  “No…” Jax swallowed hard as realization dawned in his eyes, and then he covered his face with his hands. “I swore he’d live forever…”

  “It must be very important to bring you all this way,” Yaya observed, and her gaze lifted to me. “Anyway, it is a pleasure to meet you both. I wish I had better news to give you.”

  “It’s alright,” I assured her with a soft smile. “We’d hoped to talk to your husband, but you have my condolences on your loss.”

  “What did you want to talk to him about?” Yaya’s gaze turned shrewd as her eyes returned to Jax’s face. “Tell me, Jaxy. What have you gotten into? Are you in trouble?”

  “No trouble at all, Yaya,” the burly blacksmith muttered, and he rubbed his hands vigorously across his face before he dropped them to his lap. “We wanted to ask him about dragon armor. He used to tell stories about his master…”

  “They weren’t just stories,” Yaya informed us in a conspiratorial tone, and her voice filled the space in a hypnotic way that had us all staring into her eyes with rapt fascination. “Aryon’s mentor crafted armor from dragon scales he found in a hidden crypt. He passed the technique on to all three of his apprentices, but Aryon never had the chance to perfect the skill since the dragons were long gone. Well, they were… If only he could see that great beast who attacked the city… He would have yearned for its hide and would have probably died chasing after a dream anyway.”

  So. There were several people out there who knew how to forge armor from dragon hide, and all I needed to do was find them.

  Riondale and I exchanged a look filled with the thirst for adventure, and I grinned as I realized I had a companion who would follow me to the ends of the world.

  “I’m so sorry, Yaya,” Jax whispered with a solemn shake of his head. “If only I’d come sooner…”

  “Nonsense.” Yaya frowned. “You were doing exactly what Aryon wanted for you, working your trade, and doing a damn good job if I remember correctly. He was always so proud of you, Jaxy.”

  I was glad Jaxtom couldn’t see me since I was tearing up with the overwhelming wholesomeness I was witnessing, but I figured you’d have to be some kind of robot not to be moved by the sweet old lady. I stole a glance at Riondale, and I noticed the young lieutenant blinking rapidly while staring blankly ahead.

  “Oh!” Yaya suddenly leapt up from her chair, and she rushed over to a cabinet that stood in the corner of the room. “I have something for you. He would want you to have it, after all.”

  Then she pulled out a blacksmith’s hammer, and she handed it to Jaxtom with a flourish.

  “I…” Jax’s voice was heavy with emotion, and the blacksmith shook his head. “I can’t accept this.”

  “Nonsense.” Yaya smacked him on the side of the head and fixed him with a stern glare. “I said he’d want you to have it, didn’t I? Do you want to insult his memory?”

  “No, ma’am,” Jax growled, and his hands clenched tightly around the hammer. “Thank you, Yaya.”

  I had a feeling that thing wasn’t going to leave his hands for a while.

  “You’re very welcome, young man.” Satisfied, Yaya returned to her seat. “Now, tell me about where you live. Do you have a wife? How many children do you have? Tell me everything, Jaxy.”

  Jaxtom chuckled, and then he went on to describe Bastianville as a serene little village on the edge of the world. The peaceful picture he painted for the old woman brought a smile to her lips, and her eyes turned unfocused as her imagination ran wild.

  It was nice to see the gruff blacksmith being soft and gentle with his elder, and it reminded me of the way Riondale treated his grandmother. It just proved that no matter how big and tough you were, grandmas were always stronger.

  A short while later, we said our goodbyes and returned to the streets of Vallenwood. I let out a sigh as the crisp city air hit my face, but I reminded myself there was still hope for my quest to make dragon armor.

  We just had to find one of the other apprentices Aryon worked with as a young man. There had to be a record somewhere of all the blacksmith apprentices from previous years. If it existed, I would get my hands on it.

  The three of us headed back into the more populated parts of the city, and I paused at a major intersection. I wasn’t sure how to go about the next task I wanted to accomplish that day, so I made a new save point before I conferred with my two companions.

  “We need to recruit some people to our army while we’re in town,” I explained as I glanced around at the horde of people moving up and down the street around us. “Even a handful of more men willing to fight for our cause will make a difference. Then word will spread, and more will follow…”

  “Where do we get these men from?” Riondale questioned. “Should I speak with the captain of the guard to see if he can spare a few men?”

  “Maybe see if there’s anyone who got laid off from the guard…” I scratched my chin as I thought it over.

  “There’s usually apprentices who would rather join up with the army than complete their training,” Jax muttered. “Maybe some of them would rather swing a sword than make one…”

  “If the people knew they were following the God of Time, they would sign up without question,” Riondale pointed out. “Maybe a sermon about your greatness will draw a crowd to listen?”

  “That’s a good idea.” I grinned. “Thanks, guys.”

  Then I reset back to my save point so I could come up with all the ideas by myself.

  Being a god was fucking awesome.

  Chime.

  “Guys, I have an idea,” I announced as I signaled for my two companions to halt. “Jax, you should go ask around the tradesmen shops to see if any apprentices or journeyman blacksmiths want to jump ship and join our army. Ri-guy, you go ask the captain of the guard for any rejects from their force who may be worth the hassle of training. I’ll talk to the people about my power and my army to inspire some recruiting gossip to spread.”

  “Good plan.” Riondale nodded his approval. “I will return shortly.”

  “I bet I’ll find more volunteers than ye can,” Jax challenged the lieutenant.

  “I bet I’ll recruit twice as many as both of you,” I insisted with a proud lift of my chin.

  “I wasn’t competin’ with ye, Bash,” Jax growled. “Who wants to fight a god? Nah, I was daring Ri-guy to a bit of a tie-breaker. What do ye say, kid?”

  “You’re on,” Riondale said, and his eyes burned with the light of determination.

  “Fine, then.” I snorted. “I’m still getting more than you two, though.”

  “I believe ya,” Jax replied.

  Riondale merely smiled before he trotted off through the dense press of people strolling along the streets of Vallenwood. Jaxtom waved an arm over his head as he disappeared into the crowd, and then I was left on my own with my portion of the challenge.

  I just
had to get a crowd formed around me, and then I could rant and rave about Bastianville for a while.

  “Attention, everyone!” I shouted as I waved my arms over my head like a crazy person.

  A few people stopped their progression down the road to stare at me, and then I realized I had no idea what to say, so I made a new save point before I got started.

  “My name is Sir Sebastian, Archduke of Bastianville, the Slayer of the Great Dragon Smiguel, and the God of Time.” I paused to check how many people were listening, and I counted a dozen eyes locked on me. “I have fought long and hard for the people of Sorreyal, and I haven’t asked for anything in return.”

  “We didn’t ask for your help,” someone from the gathered crowd muttered, and my eyes swept across the faces watching in search of the speaker.

  “Would you rather I had stood back and let the dragon ravage your fair city?” I countered, and I gave a solemn shake of my head. “Nay. I couldn’t stand back while innocent people died.”

  “What do you want?” another person questioned in a voice dripping with skepticism.

  “I merely have an offer to any who are interested,” I said in a loud voice, and I noticed even more people stopping to listen to what I had to say. “The offer comes with a good life, and lots of gold.”

  Another handful of people halted and looked my way at the mention of gold, and I smirked as I paused for dramatic affect.

  “I am building an army,” I finally announced after I lost count of the people gathered around me. “One to rival the king’s, but to work in alliance with his forces. The position requires relocating to one of my holdings, but it pays generously.”

  “How generously?”

  “Where do I sign up?”

  “Any who are interested should stick around.” I grinned. “I’ll write down your names, and I’ll send a messenger back to my hometown so they know to expect you.”

  The crowd shifted as a few people broke away to continue on with their days, but I noticed several people inched closer toward me.

  “Tell me more about this gold,” one man with a bald head and a patch over his eye requested with a greedy glimmer in his eyes.

  “You’d have to pass a physical aptitude test,” I pointed out. “This is a combat position, after all.”

  “Bah,” the man spat, and he waved a dismissive hand as he turned away.

  There were still thirty odd men and women crowded around me, so I let him walk away without argument. While I needed bodies to fill the ranks of my army, I didn’t want to waste space with people who were there for the wrong reasons. Still, there was little in life as appealing as gold, and I did intend on paying my forces well.

  By the time Jaxtom and Riondale returned with a following of men behind them, I’d written down the names of thirty volunteers. I had a few more left in line in front of me, but I paused to greet my two companions, and I eyed their volunteers appreciatively as the men joined the group gathered around me.

  “Good job, guys,” I complimented. “How many?”

  “I found ten men,” Riondale informed me. “All experienced and trained.”

  “Nine,” Jax growled, and he shot the lieutenant a hot look. “I almost had ten, but his master got back before I finished talkin’ to ‘em.”

  “Nineteen is an awesome number.” I nodded my approval. “Let’s get their names written down so we can send it in a letter to Elrin. We’ll do our best to send our new recruits with the supplies they’ll need for the journey, but if they want more help than that, they’ll have to wait till we’re headed back ourselves.”

  “I’m sure some will prefer that alternative to traveling through the woods alone,” Riondale said.

  “That’s their choice.” I shrugged, and then I handed the piece of paper and quill over to my lieutenant. “We can’t make it for them.”

  “You sure are a strange boss,” Jax mused as he scratched his stubbly chin thoughtfully.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I laughed.

  A short while later, the three of us were headed back up to the palace while the sun made steady progress toward the western horizon. It was almost time for the banquet, but we still had plenty of time to get ready. I was eager to meet the other nobles of Sorreyal, and to figure out who was involved in the plot against the king.

  I had a feeling the Duke of Edinburg was at least partially responsible for the recent assassination attempts on me and the king’s wizard, but I needed proof before I started throwing accusations around the summit of nobility.

  No reason to cause an uproar if I didn’t have to.

  I was also eager to see my women and my entourage all decked out in their fancy clothes, and I knew everyone was going to go all out since it wasn’t often we got invited to dine with the king.

  I wasn’t disappointed when I arrived in the west wing of the palace to find my followers ready and waiting for the three of us to return. I scanned over the freshly-scrubbed faces of my entourage all dressed in their brand-new uniforms emblazoned with my crest, but my jaw fell open when my eyes landed upon the women of the group.

  Bron held an elbow at a proud angle while Sarah gripped onto it delicately. She wore a soft yellow dress that had lace around her throat, and she’d brushed her brunette hair loose from its usual bun.

  Caelia wore a gold dress that brought out the yellow specks in her light-brown eyes, and her curly hair was braided down her back. Her cheeks had been touched with a pink rouge, and the same hue was applied to her lips. She looked downright regal.

  Evangeline wore a skin-tight shimmering purple number with a slit up one side that exposed the soft skin of her thigh. Her gray eyes were hooded with a matching hue, and she’d applied rouge to her thick, luscious lips. My mouth watered just looking at her.

  Mahini wore a black dress with a white corset that made the top of her breasts overflow the top. Her obsidian hair shone in the light of the lamps, and her eyes showed her desire to please me. I wanted to please her in return, but now was not the time for such things.

  Then Elissa strode forward to the front of the group, cocked her hip to the side, and immediately outshined everyone. The dazzling goddess wore a liquid-looking emerald-green number that criss-crossed at her throat and pressed her perky breasts into soft mounds. The skirt split above her knees in the front, and she’d paired the ensemble with thigh-high white leather boots. My wife had a strip of green across her eyelids that brought out the gemstone hue of her eyes, and she’d applied red rouge to her lips.

  I wanted to claim her right then and there, in front of the entire entourage and all the palace servants, but I took a deep steadying breath and pushed those thoughts away for later consideration.

  “You all look fantastic,” I said once I’d finally regained my composure, and my gaze was hot as it devoured every inch of Elissa’s body. Fortunately for me, her dress left little to the imagination.

  “You look… normal,” my wife observed with a confused tilt of her head. “Where have you been? The party is starting at any moment.”

  “I have to be fashionably late,” I retorted with a playful wink. “Besides, I’ve been recruiting people to my army. Doing god things, you know how it is.”

  “I suppose I do,” Elissa giggled, but then she waggled an admonishing finger in my face. “Hurry up and get ready!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I chuckled, and then I trotted down the hallway to the bathroom.

  I slicked back my hair the way the seamstress recommended, and it darkened the hue of my tendrils until they almost looked black. Paired with the black vest over the green shirt, I struck an imposing figure in the mirror. It didn’t take me very long to get cleaned up and dressed in the outfit Bellona had made for me, and I soon returned to the living space.

  “Somethin’ ain’t right here…” Jax murmured as he emerged from one of the many bedrooms with a confused expression on his face.

  I took one look at him and snorted in amusement.

  The blacksmit
h’s shirt was skin-tight, made entirely out of pink lace, and had a deep V neck that exposed his curly chest hair. It was paired with a dark-pink velvet jacket that allowed the frilly sleeves to stick out from the ends. Jax’s shoulders looked squeezed inside the fabric, and I expected it would burst if he tried to move around too much.

  “Is this a joke?” the blacksmith growled, and he didn’t seem to understand my amusement.

  “Not at all.” I corrected my expression as quickly as I could. “You look very dashing.”

  “Yeah, yeah…” The blacksmith shot me a suspicious look, but then he shrugged, and his normal grin returned to his face. “Looks like we’re all ready to party.”

  The two of us returned to the main living space, and Riondale fell into pace with us on the way. He had damp hair, and he’d exchanged his armor for one of the uniforms Bellona made, so he looked slightly less militant than normal, but there was no mistaking the stiffness of his backbone. No matter what the young lieutenant wore, his posture screamed soldier.

  By the time I’d rejoined the rest of my entourage, a servant had appeared at the entrance to the west wing, and he waited expectantly for me to cross the distance to him.

  “Lead the way to the banquet,” I instructed with a friendly smile, and the servant nodded curtly before turning and walking down the hallway.

  We walked through the corridors of the palace to the throne room, but the servant paused before the entrance. Another man dressed in the king’s colors stepped forward, and the two bowed to each other.

  I waited patiently until they opened the doors to the throne room for me, and I strode forward to the sound of the herald’s voice echoing out across the room.

  “Announcing the arrival of His Grace, Sir Sebastian, Archduke of Bastianville, Slayer of Dragons, and the God of Time, and his entourage.”

  I made a new save point while the words were still echoing through the air, and then I basked in the awed expressions and blatant stares I received upon walking into the room.

  Now, that was how a god made an entrance.

  Chapter Twelve