How much carnage did he have to fight through in order to make it this far? He’s out of arrows, his sword’s blade is chipped, and his clothes are full of rips and holes. Fresh bruises swell on his face. Innumerable cuts have been carved into his shield. Damage carries over to the clothes and armor he’s wearing as well. Is the trickle of blood under his feet from his enemies or himself?
“Don’t make me laugh. Drop dead, ignorant fool! GUARDS! Come forward!”
At his command, the private army standing at the ready advances forward from hidden corridors scattered throughout the throne room. Wearing matching white surcoats, chainmail that’s been polished to a sparkle, and a steel helmet, each wields the same glaive—a type of polearm good for cutting and piercing. They’re convenient weapons for chopping an enemy apart from a distance. Gideon’s lips turn down and he clicks his tongue.
“Blegh. The whole lot of you are carryin’ something nasty there.”
“At the ready!”
They move to the side in unison without disrupting their formation and hold the glaive-blades up by the end of the pole. They form a wall of glinting blades between Princess and Knight.
“ATTACK!”
But that’s as far as their formation will hold. Though they raise a unanimous war cry, they each attack as they see fit instead of as a unit. While their equipment and appearance are uniform, they’re nothing more than an angry mob dressed as soldiers. Still, their numbers are large. Gideon would not last long at his peak and he most certainly was not at his peak right now.
Still, he doesn’t just resign to his fate and wait to be skewered. Gideon charges forward to meet the enemy up close. Deflecting the glaive coming straight at him with his shield, he closes the distance and smoothly swings his sword in a slash, trying to cut down the chaotic line of spears in one strike—
“Wha—”
It broke.
His sword…broke. The sword’s blade cruelly snapped in half and now rolls onto the floor before him, resounding hollowly with the sound of his demise. His aquamarine eyes stare at the remaining fragment of a blade left in his hand.
Was slicing the door in half the final straw of the compounding recklessness and madness that broke the camel’s back?
“Ha! HAHAHA! This is it for you, Gideon something or other!” Lord Designs Siegfried throws his head back, laughing to the heavens. “Vanish with the remains of the former king…trash!”
Having lost his weapon, Knight Gideon finds himself desperate and cornered. On the opposite hand, the guards are gaining morale. He swats away one blade after another with his shield, but it doesn’t do much because the next line swiftly takes their place. Glaive-wielding soldiers take him on in twos and threes. In the blink of an eye, the black knight is buried under the assault of white soldiers.
They aren’t this kingdom’s soldiers. They are a private army who moves at Lord Designs’ will. Perhaps that will become his sole salvation?
“Gideon! Gideon, stand up!” Princess’ shouts are absorbed by the clash of weapons and the creak of armor. They can’t reach him. “PLEASE, GIDEON!”
“HA! HAHAHAHA! HAHAHA! HAAAAH! KILL ‘IM! KILL ‘IM! Kill him, my men! Whoever takes his head will be rewarded to his heart’s desire!”
The kin slayer turned tyrant convulses with laughter, flaunting his mad joy spawned from the peak of his gratification. The sight retriggers Princess’ determination.
I’m the only one who can save Gideon now. She deeply inhales and stops struggling. Lord Designs is tickled pink beyond measure by her lack of resistance.
“Ooh,” he coos, “good girl, Princess.”
But it’s just a step towards her next action.
“…I won’t let you…”
“Huh?”
Princess gracefully lifts her knee. Clenching her teeth, she locks on to her target and stomps down with all her strength. She crushes his foot and twists in the thin, pointed heel of her wedding boots! Her heel grinds into the top of Lord Designs’ foot, just as he was about to reach the climax of his arrogance and self-conceit!
“GYAAAAH! OOOWW!”
Feet are unquestionably a vital weak point for the human body. His soft shoes that prioritize looks over use aren’t much defense against her solid heel. As a result, he screams wretchedly and nearly faints in agony. His grip loosens, and Princess fiercely shakes him off without delay. Misfortune fell upon him because he underestimated her, thinking her to be a weak and helpless child. Caught by sheer surprise, Lord Siegfried stumbles backward, then all too easily tumbles onto the floor.
“Where does her strength come from…?!” he gasps from the ground. He frantically reaches out, but doesn’t even come close to touching her fluttering skirts—she’s made a run for it.
Sending her wavy red hair flapping behind her, she dashes away like she had in what felt like a lifetime ago between those tightly packed trees of her forest refuge. Like the times she had raced down the thick Millennial Tree branches that jutted in all directions. Her sights are set on the orb supported by silver spider’s thread. She doesn’t know what it is. But she understands its value by just how important it was to her captor.
I’ll break that! Princess always sees through to the true nature of things. I’ll break it and save Gideon!
“OOOOOORRAAAAHHH!” she roars from the pit of her stomach, much like her black knight had. Behind her, Lord Designs’ face spasms as he holds his foot in agony.
“Wai—Princess?”
“URAAAH!”
Princess kicks off the ground with perfect timing and rotates her body to unleash a flying kick. Putting her whole body into it, she sends the most delicately and intricately woven silver thread pedestal flying!
“STOOOOOOOOOOOOP!”
A procession of shattering noises drowns out his shrieks. Like the clean, clear music of a crystal string harp being played by feather tips, the tonal purity holds everyone who hears it captive. But the name of the song is “Destruction”.
Pieces of the smashed threads break into fragments. The final orb drops on the floor and bursts open before disappearing.
“Ah…aaaahhhh…”
Princess lands on the floor, firmly planting her feet.
The swarm of soldiers stops moving. Princess holds her head high and calls for her knight, “Gideon!”
Immediately after, the swarms of soldiers are sent flying, like a pop of an opening lotus flower. Standing in the center of the easily knocked-over soldiers is the black knight. Clenching both his fists around his shield and broken sword, he turns his back on them, then abruptly looks up at the ceiling and howls. Tearing out of his throat is the overwhelming roar of a valiant dragon. It splits the air and shakes the stained glass.
“Eep! Eek! Eeeeek!”