Norbert waited, seeing a city guard step forward that Norbert didn’t recognise. The man standing forward, Norbert seeing under their helmet sweat falling off their chin. Norbert is standing there, tapping his fingers between his knife and dagger on his hip, waiting to see what the guard would say.
Unfurling a parchment, Norbert was taken aback by the archaic form of communication as the guard began reading, “By decree of Captain Oblek, acting supervisor of Libitina Norbert number one thousand, five hundred and forty three is to be apprehended for siding with those against the guard.” Seeing the guard steadily rolling through the parchment, Norbert gets to the next part of their speech: “The competitor Norbert to come into our control to be further treated.” The guard rolled up the parchment, holding it in front of him in both hands.
“And what if I don’t want to?” Norbert asked.
TWANG
SHWING
A sharp pain sprung from Norbert’s foot before quickly reseeding, and looking down, he saw an arrow now sticking out of his foot. The energy in his body immediately masked the pain when he realised it would come, stiffening his face for a moment. Reaching down, Norbert ripped the arrow out of his foot. The skin is already healing from the hole in his boot.
Lifting his foot in the air for the guards to see the hole in his boot, “And this was a new pair too. I hope you will pay for a replacement if I turn myself in.” Norbert spoke as he wiggled the boot.
“A traitor gets what they deserve.”
Norbert turns to Sally and Lily, watching him from the coffee shop. The two of them give a wave to Norbert before sipping at their beverages. On the table, several glittering gold coins take the light.
Stepping to the side as another arrow was launched in his direction. Sprinting forward, Norbert charged for the guard who announced the parchment. Smashing into him, Norbert slammed his shoulder into the man as they both toppled onto the ground.
Rolling away, the parchment flew as Norbert dashed towards it. Leaping up hand out, he caught it between his fingertips. Gravity acted on his body again, plummeting towards the ground, but not before being skewered by two more arrows in his chest.
Touching the ground, Norbert barrelled forward. Sending energy pumping through his body, quickly checking not to mow down any pedestrians. The guards stepped away from him as Norbert continued forward, nobody wanting to get in the way of the arrows peppering the ground.
Up ahead, the archers no longer appear on the rooftops and jump onto the closest one to make their way out of the street channel. Arrows flew overhead, and below him, the guards shouted accusatory words, saying only weaklings ran away from a fight.
Pushing ahead, Norbert sees the shadows on the next building waver under the sun's heat. Checking the stadium, he gave a slight nod to himself, seeing it was the same as he had expected. No strange contraptions or people waiting alone in front of the building to slow him down.
Norbert leapt over, foot extended, as he landed on the flat roof of the next building. His foot slipped on something as he rolled forward, keeping his momentum and returning to his feet.
A black object came straight at his face and ducked under the object, feeling as it smashed into his helmet, pulling him off his feet and hitting the ground and somersaulting backwards, forming a ball he spun backwards slightly from the force of the blow.
Landing on the roof, Norbert looked up at the sky and wondered where the object had come from. A cloud moving overhead, a shadow blocking the sun, stopping him from squinting.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Smiling and giving a slight wave, Norbert tilted his head, the shadow of the person appearing where he was. An arm comes out with a black stick at the end, all the light absorbed. Norbert cannot determine the edges and creases of the person or their weapon.
The stick rocketed towards his head, and Norbert moved his arm up. It smashes into his forearm, following down and sliding off his body. Feeling it vibrate down his arm, Norbert turns himself onto his stomach as he hops onto his feet.
Ringing in his head, his body moving to the side from the impact to his body. Norbert moving himself back upright as he looked about, confirming that he was still standing. In the corner of his vision, the second figure in all black, still outstretched with the stick against Norbert’s helmet.
Bending slightly downwards, Norbert took a step forward, uppercutting the figure in the chin. Norbert watched them as they flew upwards into the air. Turning around, looking for the next one an object causing his helmet to ring.
A third one appeared out of the shadows. Norbert punched them straight in the face. The body shoots backwards off the roof. Heading back off towards the stadium, not wanting to get swarmed again by these figures
PING
An arrow had sprouted from the sandstone next to his leg, knocked into the floor. Norbert leapt into the air, arms waving about as he reached for the roof on the other side. As his shadow crossed over, his feet about to land, another figure appeared, coming out of the tiny shadow of his feet and wedging their stick against the ground so Norbert would land on it.
His foot slipped as Norbert fell to the ground, the black figure holding onto his foot, stopping him from escaping. Another volley of arrows launched on the roof of the building. Sinking both into Norbert and the figure that was holding him.
Kicking his assailant off, Norbert scrambled to his feet, and leapt forward again, pushing some energy out to propel him away from those chasing him.
Still rising into the air, Norbert looked about, confirming that there wasn’t anyone waiting for him ahead in his path. The civilians on the street moved off, going into houses as they cleared away from the danger.
On the ground, as he passed over the rooftops, Norbert saw more of the shadow figures appearing and disappearing again, following after him as he flew above them. Coming back to the ground, Norbert expected something to appear as he landed on the rooftop.
Jumping to the side head first, Norbert sailed towards the street. Smashing headfirst, Norbert was up on his feet, arms pumping as he sprinted down the street, no longer caring if any shadowy figures appeared.
One running from a side street up ahead, stick swung backwards, ready to take a shot at Norbert’s stomach, as Norbert moved to the left slightly, smashing into the figure and trampling them. Their body seemingly more reinforced, more challenging than he expected it to be. His feet are not squelching into the body but almost drumming off it, sounding hollow underneath his feet.
The second and third tried the same trick, as they, too, were mowed down without a care. The colosseum ahead of him, Norbert reaching into his shirt, taking out his identity card for his entry.
Coming to the main street, the shadow figures no longer appeared, making a run at him as Norbert slipped inside the entrance to the Colosseum. A slime appeared before him; Norbert thrust the card out as he looked around. “Norbert, Morenas number one thousand, five hundred and forty three.”
The slime paused momentarily before moving off, not saying a single thing to Norbert. Walking after the slime, heading down the ramp as Norbert started to go underneath the arena. He was watching the shadows here, passing several guards, all just watching him, hands on weapons, waiting to draw on Norbert.
He was smiling,, giving a bit of a wave, and holding his hands far away from the daggers on his belt and legs. Each one he passed grimacing at him as he passed, Norbert just happy that no shadow figures deemed to come here and interrupt.
He calmed the energy in his body, feeling his reserves, having a small piece missing from his stunt, and flying into the air. Turning the corner, the slime morphed into the ground as Norbert continued walking in the room, stopping once more as he looked at the beds remaining.
Only two remained in the now empty room. Norbert started walking again, looking around the room and trying to find who it could be.
Norbert turned and saw a black sphere hovering over one of the two beds. Walking up to it, he looked at the empty one and saw his name and number inscribed on the card there.
Sitting on the bed, the springs squeaking with his weight, Norbert stared at the room, trying to comprehend what happened. Biting the inside of his lower lip, hearing it squelch around as he moved his lip about
Hearing something drop next to him, he turned to the side of Norbert and saw Finekus now out of his little bubble looking at Norbert.
“The champion has finally returned.” A high-pitched voice came out of the man, almost squeaking and whining in Norbert’s ears.