BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan

by J. Eric Booker

  Without delay Baltor pulled out the two last acid bombs … and after they had gotten to twenty-five feet from each other, he threw them both straight at the dragon’s face!

  Two seconds later, they exploded! BOOOOOM!!!

  The dragon instantly screamed out her pain and outrage as the acid not only exploded deep into both her eyes, which completely blinded her, yet melted away seventy percent of her face-plate armor.

  At the same time, Baltor had already released his seatbelt, secured his feet into the saddle, leapt off the hawk, and flew through the air straight for Dreeak!

  A second later, both hands clutched firmly onto one of the eight large horns located on the very tip of the dragon’s tail. Though her damaged face and blinded eyes were a quarter of the way done healing, she could still feel her enemy slowly climbing his way up her tail like how one would climb a steep cliff, using all her horns as hand and footholds.

  While Dreeak’s wings remained fully extended, so that her flight path continued forward at the same altitude, she wildly began to flail her tail all about in order to throw her opponent off—but this action again proved futile, as Baltor had arrived at the lowest part of her back, and was still scaling his way up toward her neck.

  Even though the dragon was still totally blind, she abruptly switched the positioning of her wings, which caused her whole body to begin rolling laterally through the skies, in order to try and throw her enemy off that way—yet again this action proved futile, as Baltor had made it halfway, and was still climbing up.

  The dragon had switched tactics yet again, as she began to try and bite him—nearly a dozen times did those vicious teeth miss by mere inches, but only because he had successfully evaded every time!

  Once Baltor had made it to the top of the dragon’s head, about two minutes later, he firmly braced one arm—and both legs—around Dreeak’s horned ornaments, and with his free hand, he drew his sword and stabbed it deep into the dragon’s nearly-healed eye!

  With a blackish-colored blood pouring out her now-blinded eye, the beastly creature screamed out in pain as she began flying directly toward the ground!

  Still holding on for dear life, Baltor drew out his other sword, and stabbed it to the hilt in Dreeak’s other eye!

  No longer was there a single scream from the dragon … only four seconds later, they crashed hard into the ground, crushing and/or killing about ninety-five dark gnomes, and wounding another thirty! For now, anyways, the dragon did not move…

  Even though Baltor had been thrown clear upon impacting the ground, he still managed to roll back onto his feet after landing and with swords ready to strike!

  Instantly all the black clouds that covered the entire field dissipated, and everyone could see; there were eight thousand, nine hundred fifty-six cavalry, and a hundred thirty giants, yet still nearly six hundred fifty thousand dark gnomes—corpses were littering the ground absolutely everywhere!

  Despite the fact that the gnomes still had the astronomical odds, they realized not only that they had lost their magical powers yet Baltor had slain their leader and mother, so they began to hastily retreat into different directions.

  Before the last gnome retreated, another forty thousand had been killed by Baltor’s forces who had never stopped charging.

  All the while the man himself remained steadfastly busy as he ripped off every last piece of armor at the dragon’s neck. And once done about six minutes after he had begun, he removed a sword from the dragon’s eye, and began to slice the head from the body, which took about a dozen swipes, as the neck area was quite huge.

  Once separated, Baltor jabbed the sword back into the dragon’s eye, as he began to notice that the dragon’s head was starting to regenerate!

  It was only then that “strange and colorful vapors” began to pour out the dragon’s mouth, which vapors inevitably made their way up until they reached Baltor’s nostrils. In less than a second’s time, he learned all the runic spells that Dreeak had ever known, including teleportation and telepathy and illusions.

  With a ventriloquism-command that was heard all the way across the battlefield, Baltor called his soldiers to regroup, and they heard and obeyed.

  Once gathered together near the center of the battlefield, both the soldiers and the giants cheered, “Sultan! Sultan! Sultan!”

  Baltor, humble as always, simply nodded his head in acknowledgement as he looked all around at his forces.

  Once the cheering had subsided, a few minutes later, he declared quite seriously, “The war is not yet over, though soon it will be. The remaining gnomes must be annihilated, so that they will not pose any further threats to our way of life—I shall have the bulk of my forces destroy them upon their arrival!”

  After taking a deep breath, Baltor continued, “As for our next mission, we will need to re-group all friendly troops that have been slain, bury them here with honors, and burn the bodies of the gnomes! Only once everything is cleaned up can we then return back to our homes and families—for the Sharia Empire!”

  The troops hailed, “For the Sharia Empire!”

  After drawing a magical rune in the air, a rune that magically glowed a bluish color in the air, Baltor explained, “Just so you all know, as you can now clearly see, the magic and the power that the dragon once held is now mine! I have just created a magical barrier that will prevent the gnomes from getting far…

  “Last but not least, do not—under any circumstances—remove the swords from the dragon’s eyes until we have had its innards completely removed and stuffed as a trophy… Is that understood, Forces?”

  The troops responded, “Yes, my Sultan!”

  Baltor concluded, “Two more things. First, Major-General Ray, you here hereby promoted to Commanding-General.”

  “Thank you, sir!”

  “Second, Ruling-General Stormea, please ensure the troops set up base camp on the western side of the battlefield.”

  “Yes, my Sultan!” Stormea declared, before looking and nodding his head once at Ray.

  Ray turned his horse to face the scattered troops on their horses or in their chariots, and then he called out through his megaphone, “Form ranks.”

  Once the troops had formed ranks, soon after, Ray guided them to the western side of the battlefield in order to begin the process of setting up camp and chow.

  Ten seconds later, Darius and Traes launched their hawks into the air, so that they could fly to the western side of the field, and take care of the hawks need to feed.

  Meanwhile, the giants stood idly by, as did Cheo. Stormea sat upon his horse.

  Baltor first looked at Yaush, and asked in Valakanese, “Would you, my friend, do the honors of transforming the dragon’s head into a stuffed trophy once we have returned to Pavelus? I know you’re good at it.”

  In Pavelian, Yaush emphatically responded, “Of course, my friend!”

  Looking around through all the giants, Baltor asked in Valakanese, “Where is Salami?”

  Yaush called out to the giants, “Anyone know where Salami is?”

  Most began looking around at each other first, before looking around the battlefield, all for Salami. There was only one giant amongst the entire bunch—eight feet tall, three hundred pounds and without an ounce of fat—who continued to stare at the ground while nodding his head affirmatively—this forty-two-year-old giant’s name was Gnar.

  Within moments, everyone’s eyes and attention had focused on Gnar, yet still he had not spoken a word, nor looked up from the ground…

  Ten hold-your-breath seconds later, in which everyone began getting increasingly nervous at the news they were about to hear, Gnar finally looked up and around at everyone else, before saying, “I do not know exactly where Salami’s body is at this time, but I do know where his soul is…”

  After taking a deep breath, he added, “He is now in Elysium, drinking a hearty mug of ale in front of a large bonfire in the middle of the Great Hall, along with a new battalion of all our fallen comrades, including
your Ruling-General Humonus. They all have certainly earned that mug, each having died ‘a warrior’s death!’”

  Suddenly, the joyous look that was upon both Baltor’s and Yaush’s face instantaneously transformed to sadness and grief because they would both be greatly missing some of their closest lifelong friends in the world—tears began to steadily pour out of Yaush’s eyes.

  After purposefully taking a few deep breaths through just his nose, in order to keep his own grieving under control, Baltor was the first to ask with great concern, “Should we bury Salami, along with all my soldiers who also heroically died upon the battlefield, Yaush? Or…would you like him, as well all the martyred giants for that matter, to be buried in Valakan? Or what?”

  With an occasional tear flowing out of one of Yaush’s eyes, he answered, “Shortly after we arrived to this very battlefield—sniff sniff—and we were facing the gnomes face to face, Salami whispered to me that if he was to die in this war—sniff sniff—he wanted to be buried here amongst both men and giants…”

  After blowing out all the mucous clogging his nose into the clean part of a slightly dirty handkerchief he had kept in his pocket, Yaush continued, “I replied to him that I wanted the same thing, as I want Jimnee to always remember me how I was during my final stages of life…as ‘a man of honor.’ Therefore, we should lay Salami to rest upon this battlefield. Later down the road when we come back to pay homage, we can bring a life-size statue and place it over his gravesite. As for my other fallen brethren, my surviving brethren and I will need to decide this privately…”

  Throughout Yaush’s answer, Baltor fought unbelievably hard to keep his own saddened emotions under control, especially because he was really missing and grieving for Humonus. After all, Baltor knew Salami pretty well for the last few years and definitely missed this gentle giant, but with Humonus, he knew this man for most of his life—a man who taught Baltor nearly every bit of martial arts he knew.

  Once the emotions were finally under control, nearly a dozen seconds later, he cleared his throat and said, “Very well, Yaush. Go take all the time you need, as you have all done enough. My army will be quite busy. As for me, I need to go retrieve the bulk of my troops still in the Vispano Province.”

  Yaush, as well all the giants, silently nodded their heads.

  Baltor then asked in Pavelian, “Ruling-General Stormea, your next mission is to directly oversee the construction of the base camp, please? Oh, be ready to see a portal open up sometime soon, and the bulk of my army arrive.”

  Stormea replied, “Yes, my Sultan!” He next began galloping his horse for the army.

  Meanwhile, Cheo signed, “How are you going to be getting there?”

  Baltor said in the language of Pavelian, “I need to teleport to the bulk of my forces, brief them on the situation about the war that is nearly over, and then teleport back here with them. From having killed the dragon, I’ve acquired all her magical powers. While I am gone, will you take charge of the army, King Cheo? You know what to do.”

  With a smile, Cheo signed back, “Of course, my friend.”

  After a nod, Baltor concluded, “I will be back shortly.”

  Closing his eyes, he next mentally began to draw the picture of Petrol’s face upon the world map inside his head. Once the man’s current location was revealed, which location was a thousand miles to the northwest between the Bospa Mountains and the Galgaa Jungles, Baltor drew a rune into the air using just his index finger. A moment later, a diamond-shaped portal just big enough for him opened—in the middle of the air.

  He waved one final time to everyone still present, before walking through the portal and appearing forty feet in front of the bulk of his army with Petrol and Thorn in the lead—they were currently marching southeast. The second after he had completely stepped through, the portal instantly disappeared.

  Of course Petrol, Thorn, as well the rest of the troops had become “incredibly alarmed” at seeing a magical portal pop out of nowhere for the very first time in their lives—all suspiciously had weapons drawn, quickly surrounding this man who appeared to be their Sultan, but could be another dark gnome magic trick!

  Extending both hands out peacefully in front of him, Baltor greeted, “Greetings generals—it is indeed I, your Sultan! The war is nearly over, but not quite. The dragon has been slain, and the bulk of the dark gnomes, which still number in the hundreds of thousands, have fled, but these escapees will soon find that there is no escape...”

  “We nearly won? How do I—or we—know that it’s really you?” Thorn was the first to ask.

  Baltor answered the question with another question, “Remember our important conversation that we shared back in the command tent shortly before the victory at Lasparus?”

  “It is you, my Sultan—welcome back!”

  “Good to be back, Commanding-General.”

  By this time, Travail had arrived on horseback, and now bore a smile on his face. “My Sultan…how fares the war?”

  At this point, Baltor briefed them, “Very good…almost over but not quite. What I’m about to do, gentlemen, as hard as it may be for you to believe, is to teleport all our forces deep into the middle of the Galgaa Jungles, and there we shall destroy the remnants of the gnome army, which should only take a couple weeks, so that we can all go home. To explain how this is possible in a nutshell, it is because I killed the dragon, and acquired her magical runic powers, that I can now teleport entire armies.”

  Simultaneously, both Thorn and Travail replied completely in awe, “Hmmm…”

  Just before Baltor did a one-eighty degree turn, he said, “If you gentlemen will just give me a minute, the portal will be ready. Inform the men to be ready to march.”

  “Yes, my Sultan!” both men cried.

  After focusing on the image of Stormea, and receiving an image of his location on the world map inside his mind, a rune appeared in his mind. Immediately he drew it out.

  A second later, a rectangular ten-foot-tall by fifty-foot wide portal opened up in front of him—though slightly weary from all the energy spent, Baltor stepped to the side of the portal, and said, “Call your men to march through by columns of ten, Commanding-Generals Petrol and Thorn. Once they are through, Senior-Commanding-Knight Travail, call your men through…same formation.”

  “You heard the Sultan! By columns of ten—forward, march!” Petrol ordered.

  With Petrol and Thorn in the lead, the troops began to march or ride through the portal—after stepping through the portal they immediately discover with awe and shock that they were now in the center of the battlefield in the Galgaa Jungles. Joining them, inevitably, were Travail and the Vispano Knights.

  About three hours later, which was the very moment after Baltor became the last person to walk through the portal, it closed. Immediately he collapsed to the ground—completely unconscious.

  Within a few minutes time or so, he was revived and okay … just totally drained and exhausted. Baltor’s final orders, before he headed for the command tent and laid to rest for the night, was that Petrol, Travail, and Thorn become briefed by King Cheo and Ruling General Stormea on whatever needed to be done.

  The next night, after Baltor had awoken, he observed that a hot bath was ready, so he took a quick bath, dried himself off, put on his undergarments—of course his two assistants helped him into his armor.

  Once all was said and done, about twenty minutes later, Baltor observed four soldiers entering his tent, each bearing a large silver tray with cover—but none of these soldiers was Jewel.

  Following behind the servers, in order, were Cheo, Thorn, Petrol, and Travail.

  Baltor greeted, “Evening gentlemen.”

  “Evening, my Sultan,” they responded.

  “Where’s Corporal Jewel?” Baltor asked one soldier who had set the tray down in front of him, and removed the lid. Steam, as well a very delicious smell, poured out from inside. Once that steam had cleared, only seconds later, what became revealed was a juicy prime
rib with spicy potato-fries and green beans.

  The soldier answered, “My Sultan, she’s not feeling well today, so she was given the day off, sir.”

  “Okay, no problem, thanks,” Baltor said just before he began to eat prime rib with spicy potatoes and green beans.

  “You’re welcome, my Sultan!”

  While everyone ate, Baltor only occasionally took a small bite here and there. Mainly, he discussed the “battle plan” with his men.

  Near the end of dinner, Cheo delivered the “wonderful news,” which Baltor translated—fifty villagers had been rescued in a cave not too far away. Of course he happily added that he greatly hoped there would be more survivors!

  Once dinner was over, twenty minutes or so later, they exited the command tent. Baltor noted that everything was now clean on the battlefield, except for the massive piles of burning gnome corpses burning in fire pits, yet the troops were already in formation.

  “Forces of the Sharia Empire—attention!” Baltor called out, not needing the megaphone to be heard by everyone.

  They snapped to attention.

  “This war is not quite over. There are still dark gnomes out there, and we must kill as many of them as possible, so that we will not have to deal with them in numbers again—trust me that they cannot repopulate. So our army will spread out in all directions like a circle, but always keep sight of the man to your left and to your right. Base camp is here. All your superior officers have been briefed on the rest of the game plan, so listen well to their orders and we will all come out of this alive. Understand?”

  “Yes, my Sultan,” the soldiers cried.

  “Execute!”

  Within the next three weeks time, most of the gnomes were killed, yet a few dozen managed to escape deep underground in caves—throughout this timeframe, the bulk of the support team and the giants worked hard on burying all their fallen comrades upon the battlefield! Humonus’s body was the only body was going to be taken back to Pavelus, out of respect for his wife, Chelsea. There, he would be given his funeral rites.