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Lightning Lord Finds his One True, Catgirl? [Book 1 Stubbing in December]
Chapter 36 Insulting a King Part 3 Threefold Champion

Chapter 36 Insulting a King Part 3 Threefold Champion

Liam’s troubled thoughts were interrupted by the knights shifting their formation from a semicircle into two ranks, narrowing from a six man half circle to a two rank wide file, thin enough to fit down the center of the red carpet. The twin doors of the King’s summer court stood open in front of them. Gilded scenes of Therun Taloc’s first battles greeting the squadron. A blatant reminder that nobles who entered here came to do battle in their own way. Inside the hall was quiet, men and women stood near columns as royal servants swept away broken glass. Healers moving from noble to noble, checking and double checking those in attendance. Not daring to miss even a single irreplaceable member of the peerage.

A red carpet stretched from the throne on the far end of the hall, extending through the building all the way to Liam’s feet. A distance that felt greater than a football field. King Aldric sat on his throne, barely visible in the distance to Liam’s aged eyes. Scores of knights lined the red carpet, halberds held in one hand.

Bas reliefs lined the walls and columns, all bearing a unified theme. Therun Taloc, the God King of lightning standing victorious upon the smoking corpses of humanity’s enemies. Depictions of the God King’s triumphs adorned the columns, starting with minor deities, who’d been forgotten to the passage of time, then growing in magnitude until the likeness of the great old ones could be seen nearest the king. Pandora, Hades, Set, Ishtar, and others danced along the furthest columns, growing in size as Therun Taloc, God King of humanity triumphed over them.

Arlet took his position on Nyota’s right hand side, opposite of Liam and the ideal position for the champion to shield his Lady.

It’s reassuring to know that when I die, you will still watch over her. I can’t thank you enough.

“Thank you Arlet.” Whispered Liam, his voice as quiet as the spring breeze in a rainstorm.

Murmurs of the baron’s arrival circulated throughout the room, clashing with rumors of a Lightning Lord. Liam ignored them all, focusing on the King and his nearby advisors. The castle’s magnitude prevented a clean view, since they were too far away to identify individuals, but several figures stood out. A man in absurd gold robes stood at the king’s right hand, with a flurry of priests near him. Opposite him stood a number of mages, all blending in with each other. Behind the king stood several absurdly tall figures, they were so large that Liam blinked and squinted, trying to identify what sort of human could tower head and shoulders above knights that were already six feet tall. Liam swallowed, trying to work some spit into his suddenly dry mouth. Gaius glanced back at him, and Liam shook his head.

“I gave my word to Soren’s healers.” Explained Liam.

Gaius’ jaw actually dropped open in shock. “Uuuhhhh…”

“Lord Lightning! The healers are returning now.” Whispered Soren, bowing reverently to Liam from behind Rhendal.

Looking over his shoulder, Liam found the three healers running to join the procession. He dutifully waited for them to fall in line with the other royal magicians and catch their breath, giving them a solid two minutes of peace. He opened his mouth to reassure Gaius, but then caught sight of something so stupid it made his blood boil.

The fancy bishops had fallen in with the magician’s ranks, jockeying for a position in front of the royal magicians.

“Who are you to stand in front of the healers?” Demanded Liam.

Several of the bishops froze, others bowed in supplication and one man –with a hat so fantastically fancy that the Pope would be pleased to own it– spoke.

“We are Bishops of Therun Taloc, we come to join your honour guard oh great Lightning Lord. We have seen your thunder and wish to show our support-”

“An honour guard requires honourable men. These mages have healed those in need and borne witness to our Lightning. Do not think your station will be honoured above their deeds. When Avingnon called for aid Priest Sebestian left them to die. Begone! I will not suffer sycophants to ride my coattails while my people die.” Shouted Liam.

Rage filled his soul as he spoke and arcs of lightning passed between him and Nyota, proving his power to the pious doormats. Eleven of them scattered without a word, vanishing from sight with a speed that could only come with practice. The twelfth bishop, the one with the fanciest hat, bowed and waddled out of line.

Impressive how the one with the biggest hat bows the lowest. I should find out Mr Hat’s name later.

“My apologies to the court, Lead on Gaius Borgia.” Commanded Liam, already growing weary from posturing.

Gaius snapped his attention forward, signaling with nine fingers towards the musicians who stood inside the royal court. Each man had been chosen and uniformed to create a clean ceremonial wall, going so far as to match their hair colors and heights, placing them in order from smallest nearest the door, to tallest nearest the king.

Borgia’s unusual gesture brought rumors, nine fingers meant nine trumpets, representing a duke or foreign prince. A marvelous honour considering the number of trumpets was equivalent to the announcee’s merits. A lowly baron should’ve had no more than three trumpets.

Upon seeing only a shabby Baron and three members in his retinue the court’s humor staled, assuming another breach of etiquette by the infamous Gaius Borgia. Despite some nobles turning away all attendants stared. Gaius began marching down the red carpet, wanting nothing more than to be free of this electrical embarrassment. Liam and his escort followed, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet beneath.

This carpet is padded velvet! Dang, that means it probably cost more than my whole barony, remember the goal Liam, stay on target. Think of this as a red colored death star run, get to the end and drop your plea off with the king. Easy as.

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Liam kept pace with Borgia and his knights, holding Nyota’s hand and parading her in front of the finely dressed court with a pride that sowed confusion in their ranks.

As they crossed the carpet fresh murmurings began, whispers of astonishment and interest at the baron who did not collar his cat. Combined by astounded nobles and advisors who attempted to use appraisal skills, failing to fully analyze anyone in the party save for Nyota, whose lower level did nothing to assuage their stupefaction at seeing a Lightning Lord with cat ears. Her class brought befuddlement by the semi-truckload. And Liam saw at least one man drop his monocle.

While the full analysis failed, they still obtained knowledge of the two divine classes, Champion and Sage. A few of the higher ranking nobles discovered Liam’s class and their bewilderment spurred additional uses of their skills, failing to comprehend what sort of class could be “Father of Therun Perun Taloc’s Heir”. His higher level denied any further examination, revealing nothing more than his affinities for lightning, fire, wind, and healing. Liam smiled to himself, struggling hard to keep from laughing at the wide eyed nobles.

I could run butt naked through every town, city, and suburb in the entire kingdom and cause less of an uproar…

A tingle of electricity ran down Liam’s spine, the mana making his skin itch and burn, like alcohol being poured onto a papercut. He planted his feet in a defensive posture, dragging Nyota to a stop with him.

“What was that?” She hissed, digging her claws into his arm.

“Stop!” Barked Liam.

To his bemused shock the knights froze in place, one foot raised, hanging in mid-air. Liam turned to the mages eyeing them with a menacing glare.

“What is it Lord Liam?” Gasped Soren Flameshadow, his heavy breathing unrelated to the walk.

“I felt lightning.”

“Meow too!” Chimed in Nyota.

“None in your honour guard command the lightning Affinity, I swear it to be true!” Answered Soren decisively.

“Bah! He knows that Soren!” Snapped Rhendal, “I sense it as well, Lord Liam, someone in front of us is gathering a great deal of mana. Only the Lord Bishop wields the holy bolts m’lord.” Finished Rhendal, pointing to the far end of the red carpet.

At the end of the causeway there were five marble steps that lead to his majesty’s elevated platform. First and foremost sat the king in his throne of gold and wood, immediately around him were his personal guards, the finest knights from across the kingdom, though none were as imposing as the enormous knight that stood behind him, towering over the throne as if it were a bar stool. His helmet was sculpted into the visage of a snarling wolf, and he carried a greatsword over one shoulder.

That dude is enormous! No way on God’s green earth is he human. Maybe he is one of those Werewolves Rhendal mentioned so long ago… That would make sense, find God’s own champion and make him the king’s personal blade.

Beyond the knights stood dozens of men, priests and bishops to his right and mages in colorful robes stood on his left. Advisors bustled between the mages and bishops, bringing small messages or being sent on errands so their masters could better advise the king.

Chief among the bishops was a man in white robes, the epicenter of a mana locus. Gold trim covered his clothes in patterns of a stylized lightning bolt, saturating his white robes and giving him the appearance of a glowing golden cocksucker. He held a golden staff in his right hand and a golden book tucked under his left arm, both adorned with jewels that were evocative of thunder and lightning. Bright topaz and polished yellow opals glistened in the light of day. A large conical hat adorned his head, covered in gold wire, turning the headpiece into something more akin to a Christmas ornament than a fashion choice.

Gold, gold, gold, man… This boi is worse than Trump’s golden toilet!

A memory from Green educated Liam, though it was highly entertained at the idea of pooping gold.

Gold is Therun Taloc’s element, the Lord Bishop musn’t wear anything besides the holiest of garments... Reminds me of the Pope, well, if the pope decided to start ballin outta control. Everything is gold or yellow, ah, I guess silver wouldn’t quite fit the lightning god theme he seems to be going for. Wait, everything has to be golden? Does that mean golden undies too? Liam shook the idea from his mind, men’s underwear were not what should be on his mind.

“Watch captain Gaius Borgia! I sense an assault of weak lightning against my person. If the Lord Bishop seeks to test us he ought to speak clearly and provide a suitable arena.” Shouted Liam, loud enough for the entire court to hear.

Gasps of shock echoed through the open air of the court as nobles tried to comprehend the insolence of challenging the Lord Bishop while the king waited for you. Either offense would have sent lesser men to prison, if not an early grave. Yet here was a man doing both! Liam caught sight of several rosy faced nobles perk up, his actions managing to pierce their drunken stupor.

Guys, it’s not even noon! Why are you hitting the sauce this early? …Because they’re like Green, impotent duds who’ve been given everything and failed. With only their own lack of character to blame… Liam swallowed, but felt Green’s memories thank him, as if the philanderer-in-chief could finally rest in peace.

Eyes turned to watch the Lord Bishop who quickly stepped forward. Royal knights escorted him as he approached the king, speaking quietly to his attendants. It was clear from his reddening face and hurried motions that the bishop had no desire for this sudden attention. Especially telling was how the electricity faded as he addressed King Aldric.

“Lead on Captain, the assault has faded.” Ordered Liam.

The royal knights never missed a beat, resuming their march as a single entity. They planted their still-raised feet in unison. Stoically advancing along the red carpet and quickly closing the distance to the king as quickly as they dared. Liam’s eyes never left the Lord Bishop’s face.

He could not put his feelings into words, but there was something wrong with the bishop, a sort of niggling itch that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The bishop jerked suddenly as if he had been shocked by a bolt of static electricity, holding his golden book away from his body.

*Sizzle*

*pop*

Ethereal arcs of electricity arced between Liam and Nyota. Pinpricks of lightning shocking them wherever their skin touched.

“Accckkk!”

“meOW!”

They leapt apart. Sending the royal magicians scattering with their sudden movements, several shields of varying elements sprang into life as the mages reacted. One hapless mage dove for cover, landing hard on the red carpet with hands covering his head. Gaius Borgia spun and his knights froze. Stalwart enough to stand their ground but unwilling to be subjected to another display of power.

“Lord Bishop, stop whatever you are doing this instant.” Shouted Liam.