Novels2Search
Lightning Lord Finds his One True, Catgirl? [Book 1 Stubbing in December]
Chapter 35 What Makes a Champion? Is it Oaths, Summons, or Preparations

Chapter 35 What Makes a Champion? Is it Oaths, Summons, or Preparations

–Approximately six months after Calypso’s conquest of Kheresh–

Beneath the last dregs of sunlight and within one of the –newly renovated– training rooms of Crystal Palace 5.0, two figures clashed in an uproar of howling violence. Steel parried steel, causing the air to thrum as a werewolf aimed another slash at Captain Thaddeus, driving into him with all the weight of Duke Kheresh’s guilty conscience. Thaddeus blocked the blow, communicating the force through his body and into the crystal beneath his feet, causing the room to tremble.

Another slash sailed overhead. Thaddeus ducked under the sword, using his experience rather than speed or strength against the lycanthrope. Waging a perpetually losing battle and always emerging victorious, but the gap between their skills was closing, and he could only stand resolute for so long before the lycanthrope’s physique would grind his skill to dust. Lycan thrust met a parrying gauntlet, Thaddeus’ blade tore through the lycan’s unarmored forearm. Bone was exposed to air for the ten seconds it took the wound to close. Flesh knitting together quicker than a warehouse full of gossiping grandmas.

Blood flecked across Thaddeus’ armor, highlighting the marks of countless duels, and his countenance seemed to be as immutable as the white sands of Kheresh. While his eyes, sharp and discerning, missed no detail of the conflict, kicking the lycan’s leading foot and sending the wolfman sprawling across prismatic quartz.

“Ah, I thought he had you that time.” Called Calypso, sunning herself from the crystal rooftop.

Liam had known the gorgons enjoyed heat and sunlight, but assumed it had something to do with their cold blooded nature. He had not been prepared for the truth of sunlight as a catalyst for mana absorption, a sort of photosynthesis. One of the many revelations that had been delivered by Calypso herself, as she instructed him in all things magical. Enlightening him to the ways of power just as Thadeus enlighted the werewolf to martial combat.

“It gets closer every time.” Said Thaddeus, offering a hand to the lycan, who accepted and rose to his feet.

“You say that, but you’re always a step ahead of me, sometimes it feels like I’m achieving nothing. Or that I'm pretending to be your punching bag.” Said the Lycan, both pectoralis muscles flexing as he adjusted his grip on the longsword.

“If I let you land a hit, I’ll be laid up in bed for a week! By Taloc, look at your muscles man!”

Liam nodded in agreement, trying not to let his jealousy show.

The werewolf was a towering beast of sinew and muscle, grown thick after a proper diet and regular exercising. When they’d first met, the lycan had been a large but lean guard dog, now he would fit in at a junior bodybuilding contest. Well, if he shaved first… Thaddeus and the lycan crossed swords once more, this time the beastman’s very presence seemed to pulse with primal energy, greater than any mortal warrior. Throughout their combat the lycan’s fur became a matted tapestry of gray and black, glistening with sweat and blood under the sunlight of the elevated Argos.

“When you falter is the moment to redouble your efforts. Never give up, always find a way to press on. To keep going.” Prodded Calypso, watching as Thaddeus’ slashed across the lycan’s biceps.

Muscle fibers parted, twanging open as steel cut them, but the lycan pushed through the pain, buying him a moment to heal by aiming a one handed slash at Thaddeus’ neck. The feint bought him space, necessary seconds for his arm to repair itself.

Calypso’s words dug spurs into his mind, and the werewolf lunged. Each of its movements was a blur, faster than the wind, alternating slashes with sword and claws –as sharp as any blade– seeking to breach the paladin's defenses with the ferocity of a fur-rlwind.

Yet, despite its overwhelming strength and speed, the werewolf was but a pupil in the presence of a master. Thaddeus, with a calm born of experience, met each savage strike with a measured parry, his sword moving with a grace that belied its purpose. He parried a slashing paw with his runic bracer, practically slapping the attack away. The clang of metal against metal, echoed through the Crystal Palace, followed by the thud of glancing parries whose kinetic energy was absorbed by enchanted armor. A cacophony of battle that all blended into a rhythm that was as much a dance as it was a battle.

“Don’t just attack like a beast!" Thaddeus commanded, his voice carrying the authority of one who had seen ages pass like fleeting shadows. “Plan an attack! Vary your patterns or you’ll end up on your ass again!”

The werewolf snarled, its eyes, wild and untamed, locked onto the paladin's gaze. With a roar, it lunged once more, faster, harder, yet Thaddeus was ready. With a deft sidestep, he brought the flat of his blade against the werewolf's flank, spanking the beast for his impertinence. It was not a strike meant to wound, but to teach, to temper the raw energy that threatened to consume the creature's reason.

Regardless of intent, the blow sent him sprawling, tossing the lycan at Liam’s feet. He sighed as softly as he could, but there was no concealing his disappointment. He’d hoped the lycan would prove useful, a potential champion in waiting, someone who could rival Arlet in skill, but no. The lycan was still a broken being. He would have to rise out of the dust of his own volition, or die a dog. No amount of training seemed capable of imparting a warrior’s heart.

Panting, the werewolf rose, its breath coming in ragged gasps, yet there was a glimmer of understanding in its eyes now—a flicker of respect for the one who could match its strength with skill and its speed with wisdom. Thaddeus lowered his blade, nodding slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment that spoke volumes.

"In time," the paladin said, his voice softening, "you will learn that it is not the might of the arm, but the mind’s endurance that conquers, just as a toddler once conquered you. Now, again!"

And so they resumed their sparring, beneath the ancient asuspice of a dozen gorgons they dueled. With every strike, the werewolf began to edge closer, closing the gap between mortal and wolf. No longer did he howl after a slap, nor did he overextend, tightening his defenses against Thaddeus’ barbs. The room quieted. As the gorgons turned their snakelocks to observe. Yet the lycan never saw them, for his eyes belonged to Thaddeus. The paladin’s longsword retracted, rising overhead, a feint, Thaddeus slapped the lycan across the face. A gesture the lycan was waiting for. He stepped forward twice, slamming into Thaddeus and knocking the knight off his feet. He rolled with the blow, rising to his knee–

–And receiving a bonk from the lycan’s paw.

“Gotcha.”

Thaddeus dropped his blade, surrendering. A smile spread across his face.

“Indeed you have. Good work. Karnak.” Said Thaddeus, using the werewolf’s name.

Scales clattered against scales as several gorgons began clapping. Pleased with the werewolf finally scoring a hit after six months of vicious training.

“How does success feel?” Asked Calypso.

“Uhm… Sore? A bit hard?” Said Karnak, gesturing toward Thaddeus' skull.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Calypso chuckled, her throat somehow making the gorgon version of laughter as well as the human one, hissing and ‘haha’ing all at once.

“And I was worried you might become arrogant. Good work, see that you protect lady Maya with the same humility.” Said Calypso.

‘Well, Karnak finally landed a hit, I think that’s as fine a note to leave Kheresh as any other.’ Thought Liam, communicating through his link to Quetz.

The snake had grown to nearly fifteen feet in length, and had gone from a noodle, to a bleached blonde log in the six months since Khereshetal’s defeat. A happy side effect of the serpent having free reign to hunt, and the occasional portals that deposited tasty morsels like velociraptors or sabertoothed servals. All the essential bite-amins and minerals a growing snake could need.

‘Yes, it's time to go. There are no more walls that require your knowledge, and no more people who will benefit from meeting you.’ Said Quetz.

His words made Liam raise an eyebrow. Coming from Quetz, those words were possibly the highest praise he’d ever given. A divine serpent god had said, ‘good enough, now git’. He shrugged, it wasn’t important, Nyota was.

“Thaddeus!” Called Liam. “Prepare to leave within a week. Divide the paladins however you see fit, but I wish to have a meaningful effect on the war in Greenwood. The best will march in the vanguard with myself, while I expect you to handle the logistics. With the gorgon’s claiming Khereshetal, there should be little need for paladin reinforcements. Leave only those who have deep ties or are essential to Kheresh’s revival.”

“Yessir!” Answered Thaddeus, his face neutral, as if he had already executed the order months ago.

“Ah, Lord Alhusam, I beg a moment of your time.” Said Karnak, approaching Liam and kneeling before him.

Liam’s own growth had been unusual, with six months of magical healing he was now five feet tall, incredibly slender and starting to see the outlines of growing muscles. To many, he was maturing as quickly as the felinids did, which seemed to settle most of their concerns. After all, he grew like they did, and while his ears weren’t fluffy, they were closer to a felinid’s than a human’s. Different, but close enough to something they knew and did not fear. A pleasant compromise. Meanwhile the humans of Kheresh only recalled that it was Tufan Biliam Alhusam who finally brought the gorgons to negotiations instead of slaughter, though they were still terrified of the she-snakes wandering through their streets.

“Yes, speak your peace Karnak.” Said Liam.

The werewolf circled his teeth, using a lower incisor to trace a circle around an upper incisor, an odd gesture that seemed akin to biting one’s lip. “My lord, I have been sworn to Duke Kheresh’s service since my birth, it was a duty I was glad to have, but a duty I have failed in. Kheresh fell, and all my strength meant nothing, I could not have bested even a single gorgon, now see that your intervention saved me from that fate. Please lord, take me with you.”

Liam’s eyebrows furrowed, thinking hard for several moments before he spoke. “Greenwood has no need for a lycan, you would be used as fodder or a farmer, but certainly no hero. Even well aged, the champion Arlet is worth more than you and Thaddeus combined. Why would- No. You’ll do no good in the land of Greenwood, and I dislike trusting those with a deathwish to safeguard my life. You ought to remain here, keep training with Thaddeus and protecting Maya. You can die a valiant death in this desert, fighting as the gorgon’s shield. For your talents compliment theirs far better than my own.”

“My lord please! Let me die on the road to Greenwood! Or leave me in a town along the way, let me fight for those who cannot defend themselves!” Cried Karnak, pleading with his lord.

Liam glanced at him, then to Thaddeus, who looked unusually pensive.

“I said no death wishes, and you ask me to kill you. You’re as foolish as the night we met. In six months you’ve gained no grasp of the greater whole. Do you think you can tap Pandora’s snout and end the violence in her heart? Idiot. I’m trying to change the nature of mankind! To bring peace! To civilize you barbarians into a society that cooperates for mutual benefits!” Liam saw his words bounce off Karnak’s skull. No matter what he said, the man was broken, he’d failed Maya and no longer had any hope of making amends. “You’re no better than the sniveling Blackwood, you damned fool! I need you to live! If you still have not grasped that concept, then you lack the intelligence to serve me.” Snapped Liam, who spun and headed for the door.

“Ahem,” Said Thaddeus, clearing his throat.

Inhale and exhale, Thaddeus must have a good reason for stopping me. Thought Liam, glancing over his shoulder.

“What?”

“My lord, Karnak and the former slaves have been hard at work building paved roads, he is the one who carries the most rocks, and is the man who pulls the plows longer than the others–”

“So he has endurance. But we’ll have no time for carrying stones! Roads will be made with magic as we march or not at all! The best watchdog is still a poor substitute for an auroch. You’re only providing evidence as to why he should stay.” Said Liam, interrupting the head paladin.

“My lord, he is only worth two men if he remains here, but as you yourself have observed, his greatest talent is endurance and fast healing, both traits are worth a dozen men in a sustained battle away from healing. Or on a long road home. If I was limited to sending twenty men with you, Karnak would be on that list.”

His words piqued Liam’s curiosity, and the elf halted in his tracks, taking several long moments to stare out across the floating island city of Argos.

It was an ancient stone acropolis, clearly formed by earth magi whose talent was above any he had ever seen. Apartment buildings and multi leveled dwellings of granite and marble were the norm, many of which had been recently renovated by the paladins. Now, six months after their peace treaty had been signed, Liam could see the crystal crowns of gorgon ‘lighthouses’, buildings that were greenhouses from his own world.

Photosynthesizing gorgons… who woulda thunk it? Thought Liam, surveying the ash wastes of Argos. Besides the green gorgons, it was a desert, almost as pale as the glass wastes, but now it wore the jewels of hundreds of lighthouses; sparkling like the night sky filled with diamonds. Aside from the lighthouses for gorgons there was a second gleam of darker onyx. The promised cisterns, with a few twists. Rather than construct entire buildings, the conquered soldiers had been ordered to dig pits and construct staircases leading out of them. Then Owen and his senior earth magi created multi layered quartz roofs, with an outer layer of smoked quartz, dark enough to repulse most sunlight. Underneath which they layered citrine to focus the remaining light into the necessary intensity for plants to thrive. Or to keep wine cellars cool. Within a month the first vegetables had been harvested, a turnabout that cemented Medusa’s mind concerning Kheresh’s fate, and finally tempered Calypso’s wrath.

For centuries the Argos had wandered the skies, growing less and less fertile as the gorgons raided continents and their population grew, quickly exhausting the meager amounts of water they were able to create or import. In short, they were a floating terrarium, one that was completely out of whack. In need of a safe colony for their daughters to expand into. Which Khereshetal had just become.

Khereshetal, the city of ladies. Thought Liam, deciding that moniker needed a rework.

Finally, Liam’s eyes wandered across the crowning achievement. Three prismatic towers that rose into the sky, greatly expanding Calypso’s domain and rising above the rocky walls of Argos. From these crystal peaks one could see the land below the Argos. They also contained enormous cisterns of water. With the outer ring of each floor being filled with mana generated water. Pure and sealed until a day when the Gorgon’s could use it. Of course, there were floors devoted to sauna’s and baths, all near the lower floors, that way any graywater could be distributed to the crop lighthouses.

He’d turned one disaster around, why not try and make a man out of Karnak?

“Fine. Karnak can join me, on one condition.” Said Liam.

“Yes sir! Just name it and twill be done!” Said Karnak.

Liam frowned, feeling as though he was about to kick the man in the dick. “You must obtain Maya’s permission to abandon her. Your last mission was to protect her, and I took her from you with a disgraceful lack of exertion. Obtain a letter of recommendation from the one you owe fealty to, and you may join me. I have spoken.” Said Liam, using the Khereshi idiom for “smell ya later”.

Karnak watched him leave the Crystal Fortress, heading up the long flight of stairs towards Medusa’s palace.

“A letter? Why give me an impossible task?” Asked Karnak, looking at Thaddeus.

“Come now! Tis only a letter! Surely we can manage such a small favor.” Said Thaddeus, lifting the larger werewolf to his feet.

“No sir, that’s not… I can’t read… And uhmmm– Maya can’t write…” He blabbed, scratching his chin.