Battle with the Wither King

by Mark Cheverton

  Carver flashed the lanky youth an angry glare.

  “Much less keeping the monsters out,” the skinny boy added.

  “You’re right,” the big NPC replied. “Go get your stuff and remember you are under my command. My warriors are gonna be responsible for protecting all of you out there in the forest and jungle. You obey my commands.”

  “Yeah!” the Insigs exclaimed, then turned and headed off to retrieve their stuff, leaving Watcher still standing before Carver.

  “So, was that enough proof?” Watcher asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You believe me about Karkan, I just want to hear you say it.”

  The stocky NPC glared down at the small boy, fury burning in his eyes. He took a step closer to Watcher, then spun around and walked away, leaving the boy standing there alone, as usual.

  Glancing at Hunter who was now asleep in Tailor’s arms, Watcher felt an anger rise up within him like he’d never felt before. It was all so unfair . . . Karkan destroying these lives.

  Even though he has the might, he doesn’t have the right! Watcher shouted within his mind.

  His anger grew brighter as if a blazing fire had just taken root in his soul and was threatening to consume his entire being. He’d been bullied for so long, he’d come to think that maybe he deserved it, but Hunter didn’t deserve this, nor did her parents, or the warriors on the walls, or the other villagers destroyed by Karkan and his flaming skulls.

  Suddenly, a hand settled onto his shoulder causing him to spin around. Drawing bow and arrow from his inventory in a smooth fluid motion, he notched the arrow and pulled it back, ready to fire. It had all happened so fast, some of the warriors nearby gasped in shock and surprise.

  “S-s-s-low d-down,” Saddler said. “It’s just me.”

  Watcher slowly lowered his bow, then put it back into his inventory.

  “H-h-h-here’s your leather and s-s-some f-food.”

  He took the supplies and armor. There were two sets of the protective clothing, one dyed a dark brown, the other a bright green. He donned the dark armor, then gave Saddler a smile.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “It’s n-n-n-no big d-deal.”

  The other Insigs arrived, all of them wearing dark brown armor like Watcher. At the same time, Carver arrived with a dozen warriors and enough horses for everyone. The soldiers jumped up onto their horses, then watched to see if the Insigs could mount their steeds. Without hesitation, each of them jumped up into the saddle and pulled them around into a tight circle. Carver and the others didn’t know the Insigs had been taking horses out to ride at night through the forest for a long time; being invisible has its advantages sometimes.

  “OK, listen to me,” Watcher said as he motioned the other Insigs into a tight circle. “This is gonna be dangerous. I won’t blame any of you if you want to stay here instead of heading out there and finding Karkan.” He glanced at each of his friends, a look of angry confidence on his square face. Watcher saw the same expression staring back at him. “Good. We aren’t gonna let Karkan hurt our friends or destroy our village. This is our home, and we’ll protect it any way we must.”

  “Yeah!” Farmer barked, his good eye staring right at Watcher. “We’re the Insignificants, and we won’t be trifled with.”

  “NO!” Watcher snapped. “We aren’t gonna accept that name anymore. None of us are insignificant and we should have never let them call us that. We are the opposite. Each of us has our own skill, and we’re gonna put them to use against this threat, this bully . . . Karkan.”

  “Then if we’re the opposite,” Harvester said in his small, high-pitched voice, “that makes use the Significants.”

  “I l-l-like that,” Saddler added.

  “Yeah . . . we’re the Signifs,” Weaver said proudly, a smile creasing her square face.

  “Ok then,” Watcher said, then moved his horse even closer to the others and lowered his voice. “Signifs, I already know what Karkan wants . . . our gold. If I tell Carver, then he’s going to do something stupid. This is something the Signifs need to do; we’re our village’s only hope. Saddler, go get all the gold, and also bring all the blocks in the chest at the back of the store room.”

  Saddler looked at Watcher with confusion on his face.

  “Just do it . . . please,” the lanky villager asked. “I have an idea, but it will take all of us working together to pull it off.”

  Saddler nodded, then jumped off her horse and ran for the crafting chamber, the blond ponytail flowing behind her like a streaming yellow flag. In minutes she was back on her mount, a devious smile on her face.

  “I’ll tell you my plan when we find a good place to pull it off,” Watcher explained. “Do all of you have your green armor?” They nodded. “Good, we’ll need it. Those idiotic soldiers are going to stand out like beacons in the jungle. We’ll need to protect them while we’re pulling off my plan. I have some ideas how to do that, but all of us should keep an eye on them, just to be safe. Probably none of them have been in the jungle before.”

  “We’ve all been there tons of times,” Farmer said.

  “Yep, that’s why we need to watch out for the warriors,” Watcher added. “Are all of you ready?”

  They looked at Watcher and smiled.

  “Then let’s go find us a wither king!” Watcher shouted.

  The Signifs all yelled and cheered, then rode through the massive hole in the village wall, Carver and the other soldiers trying to catch up.

  Chapter 8 – Jungle

  They galloped through the mega taiga, the horses’ hooves filling the forest with thunder. Watcher glanced over his shoulder. Carver and the other soldiers were struggling to catch up to the Signifs, surprised looks on their square faces. Some of the warriors were shouting over the hoof beats, likely trying to figure out when these tiny villagers had ever learned how to ride a horse, much less go at full speed through the forest, weaving around mossy cobblestone and giant taiga trees.

  Watcher signaled the others to slow down, allowing the other warriors to catch up. The Signifs all smiled, a satisfied expression on their faces.

  Carver moved next to Watcher.

  “Where did you see this wither?” the stocky NPC asked.

  “He was in the jungle.”

  “I know that, you already told us. But where, specifically?”

  “I’ll explain when we reach the jungle,” Watcher replied.

  Carver was about to object, but Watcher turned and urged his horse faster. When they reached the end of the forest, the villagers brought their mounts to a halt. Many of the animals lowered their heads and munched on the grass and leaves in the verdant growth of the jungle that sat right next to the mega taiga. Watcher quickly dismounted, then winked at the other Signifs, letting them know to follow his lead.

  “Ok, where is this wither king?” Carver asked.

  “Well . . . um . . . it’s . . . um . . .”

  “Where did you see him?!” the big NPC snapped.

  “Well, if you . . . um . . . go north, you’ll find a clearing,” Watcher said, trying to put as much fear in his voice as was believable. “At the clearing, you head west and you’ll find a massive junglewood tree larger than anything you’ve ever seen. It’s easily twice the size of any other tree in the forest and a dozen blocks across.”

  “That’s where you saw the wither king?”

  Watcher nodded his head, then looked down at the ground. The rest of the Signifs did the same.

  “I get it,” Carver said as he moved his horse closer. “You’re afraid?”

  The NPCs all nodded their heads.

  “Don’t worry, you can wait for us here. We’ll follow your directions and find out what this Karkan wants, then meet you back right here . . . OK?”

  Watcher nodded his head, then looked up at Carver. The warrior had no problem believing that they were all afraid, but he could probably never imagine they were brave.

  The big NPC pulled his
horse around and urged it into a gallop, heading north, the rest of the warriors following. When they were out of sight, Watcher looked up at his friends.

  “Everyone dismount, the horses will be of no use in the jungle,” he explained.

  “What was all that about?” Farmer asked.

  “I had to get rid of Carver and the others so we could set our trap and take care of the withers,” Watcher explained. “If we told them what we were going to do, they’d just get in the way or think we couldn’t do it.”

  “B-b-but we c-can do anything!” Saddler said.

  “We all know that, but the warriors don’t believe it.”

  “Then we’ll show them,” Weaver said as she pulled her horse to a tree and secured its lead. She then limped back to the others.

  “All of you know where that gigantic waterfall is located in the jungle?” Watcher asked.

  “Of course,” the chimed.

  The warriors were afraid to go into the tangled biome. Creepers prowled the jungle, their mottled green skin merging with leafy growth, making them difficult to spot. Spiders also frequented the dense undergrowth. But if you knew how to listen for the creepers and where to look for the spiders, they were easy to avoid. With all their clanking armor and bright shining swords, the soldiers naturally attracted monsters to them.

  “Then let’s get changed and get moving,” Watcher said.

  The Signifs all took off their dark brown armor, and replaced it with some dyed bright green. They stood out like beacons in the mega taiga, but as soon as they stepped into the jungle, the villagers nearly disappeared.

  Because of their lightweight, agile frames, the five companions moved quickly through the jungle. Watcher always marveled at Weaver when she ran. The girl’s limp looked terrible when she walked, but when she ran, Weaver had figured out how to leap forward with her strong leg, using her shorter weak leg to balance the landing.

  They shot through the jungle like skinny little green missiles. Always towering over the terrain was the massive junglewood tree that hid the wither temple. It was still far away, but its massive height allowed its treetops to constantly peer down upon the occupants of the jungle. The presence of that massive tree made Watcher shudder; he knew Karkan would be there, waiting. If their battle with the zombies was complete, then his army of three-headed monsters would be there as well, and that’s what had Watcher worried. Battling a single wither was one thing, but battling an entire army of them was something completely different. If their plan didn’t work, then the Signifs had little chance to survive, and they all knew it.

  As the companions leapt over bushes and climbed around huge tree trunks, a thunderous sound grew louder. It made the ground shake every so slightly, as if some kind of mythological beast was smashing the very fabric of Minecraft.

  Watcher smiled.

  “We’re almost there,” he said to the others.

  They smiled back to him but fear still lurked in the eyes of his friends.

  In minutes, they’d reached a river that carved its way through the jungle wilderness, a massive waterfall feeding the cool blue flow. At the foot of the falls was a small island made of stone and gravel. It was maybe twenty blocks wide, the river parting around the tiny piece of land.

  Watcher sloshed through the river that wasn’t very deep and climbed up onto the island. His four friends joined him and cast their gaze on their surroundings. Tall jungle wood trees ringed the area, leafy green sentinels that were about to witness an insane battle.

  Leaning close to his friends, Watcher explained his plan to nodding heads and fearful gazes. They all knew this was all or nothing. If they failed, then they would be destroyed and their village would likely become a smoking crater. Everyone was relying on the Significants, whether they knew it or not, and as icy needles of fear stabbed at his soul, he laughed at that thought.

  “W-w-what’s so f-f-f-funny?” Saddler asked.

  “Who’d ever thought our village would pin their hopes upon us, the Insignificants,” Watcher said.

  “The Significants!” Harvester snapped in his high-pitched voice.

  “Sorry, I forgot, the Significants.”

  “We’ll show ‘em,” Weaver said. “We’ll show ‘em all.”

  “Or die trying,” Farmer added.

  “We won’t give up until we’ve made our friends safe,” Watcher said. “They’re depending on us, and we aren’t gonna let them down.”

  The other Signifs nodded their small head.

  “Ok then, let’s get our trap set up.”

  The friends went to work. The only sound Watcher could hear was their tools chiseling away at stone and rock, the roar of the falls, and his heart thumping in his chest.

  Chapter 9 – Battle

  Watcher and the Significants put the final touches on the gigantic mound of gold ore at the foot of the waterfall. They could hear the soldiers approaching, their metal armor clanking together, making enough noise to attract every monster in Minecraft. Watcher figured they heard their pickaxes and shovels tearing into the landscape, and headed toward the sound.

  Suddenly, hollow, moaning sounds wove their way through the dense underbrush. It made Watcher shudder with fear. That was not the sound of a wither approaching; it was the sound of many withers moving in their direction. He suspected the dark monsters were not heading for the Signifs, rather they were stalking the noisy warriors that were blundering through the forest.

  We need to do something . . . fast, or the withers will attack the unsuspecting soldiers, Watcher though.

  Quickly, he moved to the top of the golden pile, then pulled out a wooden sword. Carver had given it to him after the last time he’d tried to join the army. It was a child’s toy, and the big NPC had said that was the only weapon Watcher should ever use. The other soldiers had roared with laughter, as did many of the villagers. The humiliation from that day still hurt, but what they were doing today was far more important than trying to be accepted by the soldiers and fit in. What they were doing today was about life and death; it didn’t matter what anyone thought, as long as they were still alive.

  Gripping the handle of the toy sword firmly, he brought it down onto the gold blocks with all his strength. The pile of yellow metal rang like a massive gong, the vibrations floating out into the forest. The ocelots ran in fear as the few spiders that were watching the villagers clicked the mandibles in agitation, then scurried away. He slammed the sword down again and again, beating on the pile until the hateful sword finally shattered.

  “That will bring the monsters,” Watcher said

  They all stood for a moment and glanced around. Each had a look of fear etched deep in their square faces, but there was also an expression of pride as well. They were refusing to be bullied; they were changing the situation and removing the gold from the village. All of the Signifs stood a little taller today; maybe they’d saved their village . . . maybe. But Watcher knew they needed to do more. He’d heard the Karkan’s heads talking before, and had seen the evil looks in their dark, sinister eyes. He knew the wither king was going to destroy the village whether the gold was there or not.

  Drawing a huge breath, Watcher screamed his challenge as loudly as possible.

  “Karkan, you want your gold . . . it's all here! Come and get it if you’re not afraid!”

  An angry howl burst from the jungle as the king of the wither bellowed in rage.

  “Withers, forward . . . go get them!”

  Crashing sounds filled the air as the withers stopped their silent stalk of the warriors and charged toward the challenge, floating through vines and tree branches with reckless abandon. The jungle filled with the sounds of tree limbs breaking and vines being torn from the treetops as the monster army approached.

  Watcher’s breathing became heavy as his body tingled all over with fright. His heartbeat quickened; he could feel it hammering in his chest. He glanced around at his friends, but the rest of the Signifs had taken their positions, burrowing into leafy ho
les around the golden pile, waiting for his signal.

  Suddenly, Karkan crashed through the branches of the junglewood trees at the top of the falls and gazed down upon the mound of gold ore. A shadowy wave of withers followed him, filling the air like a poisonous hateful cloud.

  "Here is your gold, now leave my village alone," Watcher shouted.

  He shook with fear as his voice cracked.

  Karkan laughed.

  "What makes you think I won't just blast you with my flaming skulls, pathetic villager?" Karkan asked.

  "Because I know you won't damage your precious gold," Watcher replied.

  He could hear the soldiers approaching; they were trying to be quiet, but that was a difficult task for those armored, clumsy oafs.

  "If you agree to leave my village alone, I’ll let you have this pile of gold. Your withers can come down here and take it, one block at a time. Do we have a deal?"

  The king of the withers glared down at Watcher, the left and right skulls surveying the surroundings while the eyes of the middle head bore into the young NPC. Sunlight glinted off the Crown of Skulls, giving the horrific creature a momentary golden halo. In that brief instant, Karkan almost looked beautiful. But then a cloud moved overhead, blocking the rays of the sun, and returning the monster’s hateful, terrifying visage.

  "I like you, villager," Karkan said. "You are willing to stare death in the face and try to strike a bargain. You have courage and I respect that."

  Karkan drifted forward so that he floated out over the falls, staring down at Watcher. The young NPC was afraid if he came any closer he might see the suspicious trail of redstone emerging from the back of the pile.

  "Yes, I think we do have a deal, villager. Now move aside."

  The king of the withers motioned his minions to come forward. Slowly, his army of dark, three-headed monsters descended over the cliff and moved close to the pile of gold. The burnt stench of the monsters was overpowering, but Watcher waited until they completely surrounded him, then he turned and leapt into the air. He landed on the side of the gold ore pile, then jumped again, flying through the air as if gravity did not apply to him. He landed on the shore of the river that flowed away from the waterfalls and took off at a sprint. As he ran, he flipped a lever that stood behind a shrub. Instantly, the trail of redstone dust grew bright red, casting a warm crimson glow that lit up the bushes and stone.