The Bathrobe Knight: Volume 2

by Charles Dean

  Freshly avenged, he didn’t have the strength to keep going. “Darwin, come on,” Daniel said as he looked at him. It was a game. Why is he so worried? Darwin wondered as he fell to the ground and the world started to darken around him.

  Darwin’s nervous system, which the game had somehow managed to keep intact, was doing it’s best to prove to him over and over again that he was in unbearable agony. His eyes testified to the same as he watched his own blood trickle away onto the field. However, something inside him disagreed with his senses and made him smile as he watched the last of his life fade. Something said, This is fine. This is the price you pay for what you need to do.

  “Valerie! Mclean!” Daniel was yelling, calling his two White-Wing friends over to where Darwin lay. “He’s not fading away! We might still be able to save him. Go get the Blue-Drakes before he . . .” And then they went quiet.

  Soul Devourer has been activated and consumed your 64 soul charges. You have been restored to full life and will have a +50% increase on all stat values for 320 seconds after the resurrection process is complete.

  Due to having no soul charges remaining, you will awaken with Hunger active.

  This effect may not occur more than once an hour

  “What in the--” Darwin heard Mclean say as his vision pulsed the now familiar dark crimson color. The wounds that had left him on the ground in the first place ripped, spasmed and throbbed with the same aching pang of agony that his last death had brought. He felt the halberd, still lodged in him, being pushed out and his wound closing. He felt his head rip and his hands burn again.

  When the pain faded, everything felt as if it were standing still. So the resurrection is finished . . . Time to have fun. He laughed as he picked up his burning blade.

  “Darwin, you need to get back. You’ve already died once,” Daniel advised again. Nagging. Doesn’t he understand? Darwin grumbled to himself as he pulled the zweihander in a circular arc through another enemy, spinning as if he were creating a fiery whirlwind with his blade while he ripped and tore through the crowd. Why would I stop now? Darwin couldn’t stop laughing as the blade cleaved into two or three more enemies. Before, a shield would have stopped it. Now, it cut through them like butter. The Soul Devourer buff was giving him Strength and Speed stats that left him unrivaled on the field.

  “Daniel, what do we do?” Valerie asked. “He’s . . . He’s lost it, I think.”

  “We need to get him out of here. He may be doing well now, but it’s only a matter of time before we find him laying out flat on the ground again,” Daniel said to the other two. “He’s not fighting carefully. He’s taking too many risks. He’s practically trading blows for speed.”

  “Daniel, the center column is about to fall. If we’re going to get him out, we need to now. Once that group of fighters goes down or retreats, there will be another surge of enemies,” Mclean said as he pointed to the middle of the field. “I was just there a bit ago. We’re dealing with minutes until it collapses, not hours.”

  “Alright, I got an idea,” Daniel said, quietly whispering his plan to the others in the middle of the death-drenched field.

  Darwin heard it all though. He knew what they were planning. He just couldn’t stop the onslaught. It felt too good as his blade carved and cut through the enemies, resurrecting his horde as he went. As he was rushing, slicing and cleaving, he felt two pairs of feet collapse into his back, grounding him in the middle of a swing. Before he could even get up or turn over, the feet were replaced by hands, and he felt himself floating off.

  “I’m sorry, Darwin,” Daniel whispered in his ear as he carried him. “I can’t let you die. I know your secret. I heard you tell Kass.”

  Darwin struggled at first, pulling on each arm fruitlessly as they carried him back to the wall, but after a moment he gave up. Since the buff had worn off, he just couldn’t muster the strength to rip himself free. He just stared at the battlefield and frowned as reason slowly seeped back into his head. He had always understood that he should pull back, that the phalanx had done exactly what it was supposed to, and the people were safe. It was just the urge, the voice that even now whispered: Find a way back into the fray. It was a voice that he found easier to silence the further he got away from the battle. That’s not my home, he told it. My home isn’t here. It’s back at the apartment with a stack of over-caffeinated beverages and hours of uninterrupted game time before I have to go to work in the morning.

  “Darwin, are you okay? What’s wrong with you?” Mclean asked. She was on the other side of Daniel. “If you’re not alive for the victory speech, it’ll be kind of odd, and we’ll definitely get less in-game alcohol credits.”

  “Don’t worry,” Daniel continued to whisper. “I won’t tell her.”

  “Thanks,” Darwin said to both of them. “I don’t know what happened either.”

  That was mostly false. He knew what happened, but he just didn’t know why it happened when he wasn’t out of souls. From the time it first took over in the arena to just now, the feeling, the red rush and the sensation that came with it--it was always the same. It was just the way Hunger made him feel and made him want to act.

  “Well, one way or another, let’s get you back.” Daniel started laughing. “I wonder if Alex will give me a reward for saving you from stupidity? I bet, given him, I might be able to earn a badge for my bathrobe. Like a ‘Saving Dumb Darwin’ preparedness badge.”

  “How about a ‘Learn to Not Hit My Wing While We’re Trying to Fly” preparedness badge?” Mclean shot back at him, but couldn’t stop a smile and a laugh from breaking through.

  “Mclean, touching two guys at once, this must be a . . .” Daniel started, then stopped and just smiled. “I mean, thank you for helping out, Mclean.”

  “What? Not going to finish that thought?” Mclean laughed. “Well, that’s good. For a minute I was worried I would have to kill you both if you kept going with that sentence. Would defeat the whole point of this rescue operation.”

  Darwin still felt too embarrassed about having to be airlifted from the battle to join in with their banter. This is definitely not how I wanted to spend the glorious battle, Darwin frowned, being carried away like a disobedient child from a playground.

  “Welp,” Daniel said as they landed back at the platform Darwin had started on, right next to Justin, who was still holding the bow Darwin had given him earlier in the trade off, “let’s try not to get in anymore trouble, okay?”

  “Fine,” Darwin said, fully aware he had a bit of a pouty face. This was too shameful, and there was really no way for him to get back his dignity. He had gone from being the commander who led his troops to victory in a glorious fashion to the guy who had to be carried off the field before he died, a second time, from doing something stupid. He would have been mad at Daniel for pulling him out, but, in the end, he was more grateful than upset. If his nature had kept running rampant, the buff would have faded, and he would have been left in the same place he had been airlifted from: on the ground bleeding out. These weren’t easy enemies to fight, and the Zombie skill took more than a second to activate, which meant he had to go into each separate skirmish alone before his fresh kills would be there to back him up. So, while he was upset from the humiliating evac, he was also happy that Daniel, Mclean and Valerie had gotten him out of there before embarrassment became the least of his worries.

  But that wasn’t the only issue either, he realized as he watched the fight. He hadn’t been able to stop. He hadn’t been able to put down his blade. They had to force him. This time he was fighting enemies. This time he was killing the bad guys and saving his friends, but next time? What would happen when that thirst took over and he was left holding a zweihander, racked with the effects of Hunger, and only allies in sight? Would he be able to stop himself from killing a friend, a faction member? Would he be able to even stop himself from killing an innocent civilian?

  “I really do love it, Daniel,” Darwin said to his comrade, picking up on t
he conversation they had the night before. “I really do love killing. It really is hard to stop doing it.”

  “I know, buddy,” Daniel patted him on the back, “I really do. Sometimes it’s all you think about when you close your eyes at night, but you have to come back to Earth. You can’t let the bloodlust get the best of you. You need to stay in control of it.”

  Darwin stayed up on the wall and watched the fight to its end. Between the archers, the Blue-Drakes and the newly resurrected Zombies, the phalanx remained for the most part unused as the enemies all slowly died or cleared the field in fear.

  “I think that’s a wrap,” Daniel commented as he watched the last enemies retreat. “Not sure how this all goes, but I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to give a rousing speech of some sort now.”

  “Yeah, I should.” Darwin looked down at Alex, who was patting all the soldiers from the phalanx on the back. Or I should be doing what he’s doing instead of sitting up here away from the fight. “Either way, we won. I think that’s enough.” But as he crawled down from his perch, Kitchens came riding in on a Blue-Drake that was holding an injured Fuzzy Wuzzy.

  “Kitchens, how did the fight in the center go?” Darwin asked as he saw the samurai’s mount gently lay Fuzzy Wuzzy down before landing so he could dismount himself. “Did everyone make it out okay other than Fuzzy Wuzzy?”

  “Actually, Fuzzy Wuzzy and the Hydra are the only two that remain. The Hydra took a beating, but it seemed to regenerate faster than it was hurt. I don’t know if mobs level up, but if they do, that might explain the thing’s constant hit point bumps mid-fight.” Kitchens looked at Fuzzy Wuzzy. For the most part, there wasn’t a scratch on Kitchens. If he had fought to the grueling death with fifty foes or had had a gentlemanly one-bullet duel with someone after a cup of tea, only his bloodied clothes told the difference.

  “Where’s Minx?” Darwin asked, knowing immediately upon seeing Kitchens’ reaction that it wasn’t the right question to ask at all.

  “She didn’t make it. She died protecting this little guy,” Kitchens said as he patted Fuzzy Wuzzy, who, Darwin just realized, still had his top hat on.

  “And . . .” Darwin knew already. The answer had been stated. He just needed to hear it one more time for clarification.

  “The rest are dead too, Darwin,” Kitchens said coldly. “Minx will be back here after she respawns. Her bind point is still in the Panda King’s town, but I don’t think anyone will stop her on her way out.”

  She’ll be the only one back after the respawns, Darwin thought and sighed. It was a heavy thing to think about. On his end, it had been a one-sided slaughter. They had almost managed to defeat all the invaders with no casualties. On Kitchens’ side, every Turtle-Wolf and the few soldiers from the bandits who had gone there were all dead. As he mulled over the ramifications of what that meant, he noticed that people were starting to congregate around him. While talking to Kitchens about the semicircle strategy, he had found one formed around him. Space was given, and the people slowly hushed themselves from a talk, to a whisper, to dead silence.

  “Great Lord Darwin,” Alex came out of the ranks of onlookers, bowed his head, then stood at attention. “Your wisdom and strategic brilliance has crushed yet another oppressive army out to destroy us.”

  “Yeah, right,” Louie said from the crowd of archers that started to pour out towards Darwin from behind the pike walls. “It’s like boss man Alex said. You did it. We actually stopped him. We stopped the Panda King flat in his tracks. Just us. No massive army and no great magical weapons. Just us and your wits.”

  As the crowd nodded, Darwin felt slightly bolstered. He almost forgot about his rather unsightly exit from the field earlier. “I think the best word you had there was we,” Darwin answered Louie. Just like when he had first started the StormGuard Alliance, he found himself speaking before the words even registered in his own head. “It wasn’t me holding the shields. It was you all. It wasn’t me pulling the strings on the bows. It was you all. I came up with one idea, but that was it. The only thing in this battle that separated me from another leader was my ability to listen. When you told me your strengths, I heard it. When you told me your fears, I held them to my heart. When you told me your plans, I pulled them all together to make one idea. I did nothing more than let you all do what you always could: win with your own hands and your own strength.”

  They all picked up, cheering, patting themselves on the back and feeling good. Many denied Darwin’s claim, but all were in good spirits. Darwin, looking around and seeing the joy, was about to share in it himself until he saw Kitchens. That’s right. This battle wasn’t free. “Wait,” he interrupted them. “Is this the first time for many of you that you have felt safe in a long time?” A resounding agreement came from the bandits who had joined the cause. “Is this the first time you will go to bed at night with a full belly, knowing that you won’t have to worry about dying in the middle of the night to a raid or an attack?” Even some of the people from Valcrest shouted ‘yes’ at this point. “Is this the first time that, instead of worrying about today, we can set forth, as a nation, and prepare for tomorrow? Lay down the foundation for days to come and focus on the future years away?” No one was without a jubilant shout of agreement. “Then I want you to do something for me. I want you to find out the names of the people who died on the battlefield. I want you to take their names, write them on a stone, and hand them out until at least one member of every family has a stone. Then thank them every night that you go to bed safe and sound. If you die of old age, happy in your home, then give your children that name, and tell them that the man whose name was written upon that rock is the reason that they have their freedom.”

  Everyone stared in silence, unmoving and quiet as Darwin finished his request. Then, after a long pause, Reginald finally broke the silence. “Steve was out there,” he gulped between the words. “I know his sister will want his stone, but I’d like to keep it if it’s okay.”

  “Well, I don’t think there would be an issue with two stones made for one person . . .” Darwin didn’t know if he was supposed to handle those types of requests, but he knew it was the right direction. There hadn’t been a single protest at the idea, but the solemn mood after he made the request was almost depressing even him. “Alright, we can do this tomorrow. Tonight, let’s go eat some Blue-Drake meat cooked in their own fires, play some songs, and have a great time!” The cheering returned, half-hearted, but it returned. Then, as soon as the cheering returned, everyone broke off into small groups, hugging, laughing and generally celebrating in a way that Darwin associated almost exclusively with cliché movie endings.

  Kass:

  Kass sat in her half-back, black chair in front of the giant, marble-topped desk trying to stay still as random people came up and hit her face with God only knows what makeup. They had finished a moment earlier, but some of the powder had gone up Kass’s nose, and she ended up letting out a sneeze that blew the rest of it all over her and her dress. At this point, the team was now scrambling to make sure that whatever was messed up was covered and evened out with a new powder and that her dress was properly brushed off.

  “It really is the first time that has happened,” Ryan, the anchor for the news show she was about to be on, said. Kass almost crinkled her forehead, a thing that might have gotten her attacked by the now-aggravated makeup team. She was lost as to whether or not he was trying to apologize or simply just reporting the facts as he had been trained to do.

  “I guess I’m just special,” Kass remarked as the crew continued to brush loose powder off of her.

  “That is why you are here, is it not? You magically managed to do something no one else did, or got close to someone no one else could,” Ryan said in a dry, sarcastic tone. As if her being there was offensive to him. Like she shouldn’t even be on the show.

  Maybe I shouldn’t be. Maybe Dad was right, she second guessed herself momentarily. It wasn’t often that she liked to admit her dad was right
after a fight, but this time she had the sinking feeling that she had just been stubborn for the sake of being stubborn. Does doing everything he can to get me a job and help me out in life really make him a bad guy? she wondered. Should I really have been that mean to him? The thoughts vanished though when she remembered how aggressively he had gone after Darwin. He has no right. “I guess you could say that,” she finally answered, shrugging off Ryan’s indifference. “I like to think it’s cause I ended up in a good guild, nothing more.” She tried to underplay the importance of her role in the fight that brought her enough attention to get her on the show.

  “Thirty seconds,” the producer notified Ryan and Kass through the handy ear buds that she had been given to them before they sat down.

  “Do you know the basics of how this will work?” Ryan asked, still not even bothering to look at Kass as he spoke. He just kept staring at the camera, as if it were the only thing in the room worth noting.

  “I have a general idea. Kerrigan prepped me some when I came in.” Kass fought the urge to slap him. She didn’t know why, but every word out of his smug little mouth made her want to pummel him even more. I wonder if reporters get this annoyed with this type of news anchor too.

  “Good. Just to make sure,” Ryan responded, condescension leaching out of him as he walked her through the process even after she told him she knew it. “We’re going to start with some questions. We’ve prepared media content, which we’ll use during the questions. If you don’t feel comfortable answering something, just let us know. We’re not here to make this aggressive. We just want the truth. If you have any prepared notes or materials, make sure to have them memorized before the segment starts. Understand?”

  I had it the first time, jerk. “Yeah, I got it,” she did her best not to let her anger show.

  “We’re live in 5, 4--” the producer spoke again through her ear bud as the makeup crew scrambled off the set, and then a cameraman counted off the remaining three seconds with his fingers for them.