Floating City of Paradise, Gladea’s Castle: 936, April 9th, Monday, 11:30 AM.
“I’m here, my king.” Theo reported.
King sat on his throne in front of his subordinate, absorbing the azure energy from the goddess’ statue behind the throne into his own body. “What happened to The Golden Lightning?” he asked stoically.
“She is ready to be harvested, I’ve sent the champion to deal with her.” Theo bowed deeply. “With her power in your hands, you’ll be able to confront the goddess’ chosen and the exile’s spawn on your own, my king.”
The heavy entrance to the throne room opened slowly, a group of human and hybrid prisoners emerged from the other side with trembling hands and twitching eyes—their weakened and punished bodies were dragged forward by the gladean knights.
“Perfect,” King said. “Bring her to me once the champion returns.”
Southern Region of the Deadlands, Near Heildin’s Border: 936, April 9th, Monday, 11:30 AM.
The gladean knight struck with a vertical swing of his longsword, bringing down his arm with all the weight of his body. Atalanta deflected his attack with the pole of her glaive, staggering the knight as his arm sprung back at the impact. Taking advantage of the clear opening, The Golden Lightning jolted her opponent away with a powerful spinning kick to his torso—just in time to stop the incoming attack from a second knight to her right, blocking his sword with the blade of her weapon.
“Stop this, Loki!” she roared furiously.
The amused knight chuckled at the intriguing battle between Atalanta and the knights he trained himself, attentively watching the events playout with a wide grin on his face. “What? A little bit of training never hurt anyone, did it?” a huffed laugh escaped Loki. “Unless you are the exile of course, couldn’t get any worse than that.”
“Bastard...” Atalanta muttered with gritted teeth.
“Hey, you!” Loki addressed one of his warriors in standby. “It’s your turn to strike, show me you what learned.”
Following order with diligently, the knight charged Atalanta without a second thought in his mind—leaping at her with a spinning motion of his body, and using the momentum to guide his sword against Atalanta’s left side. Reacting fast enough, the blonde knight was able to stop his blade with the palm of her hand—finding herself locked in between both adversaries.
“King... will know of this, Loki!” she warned him.
Loki kept his cocky smirk however, unconcerned by the words of the knight. “And I can’t wait to let him know,” he claimed.
Maneuvering the glaive around the knight’s sword to her right, Atalanta bashed his head with the flat area of her blade—stunning him temporally. She then strengthened her grip on the blade of the remaining knight and pulled him in closer, continuing with a powerful headbutt against the knight’s head. Staggered by her attack, Atalanta finished him off with a violent kick to the neck that knocked him out cold.
“I guess it was much to ask after all...” Loki frowned—disappointed by his knights’ performance.
“Enough!” Atalanta shouted, taking a fighting stance. “Why are you attacking me?”
Loki’s frown curved upwards into an arrogant smirk. “I don’t have to explain anything to you,” he said. “But since we are already here...” both of his swords materialized in his hands with particles of azure light, his sadistic gaze fixed on The Golden Lightning. “Let’s just say that... it’s time for you to remember who is the strongest knight.”
“What are you talking ab—”
Atalanta was interrupted by a sudden vertical strike from Loki’s azure swords, the force of the impact shook the ground underneath them as she blocked his attack with the pole of her glaive—sinking her feet slightly in the ground. Continuing his relentless assault, Loki vanished into particles of azure light and reappeared behind Atalanta in a flash—delivering a well-placed flying spin kick to her head.
“Ngh!” the blonde knight bit down at the forceful impact—flying away like an arrow shot out from a bow.
“Now watch this,” Loki whispered—teleporting on top of the soaring knight, and slamming her back to the ground with a stomp to the abdomen.
“Ugh!” Atalanta’s back hit the earth with great magnitude—forming a small crater underneath. “You...” she groaned in pain.
Loki took a few steps back to allow his opponent to recover, biting the tip of his tongue with a self-satisfied grin. “Well? Will you fight back or what?”
Picking herself up while holding her back with one hand, The Golden Lightning exhaled loudly from her mouth before taking a fighting position. “Is that it?” she mocked her opponent—drawing a quick chuckle out of him.
“You’ll regret those words,” Loki said under his breath—charging with a frontal strike.
Her glaive placed in front of her in a horizontal position, Atalanta waited for her adversary to arrive and deflect his attack. Only fainting a frontal attack however, Loki implemented his abilities to vanish once more and reappear behind her—slashing at her unprotected back.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Atalanta was able to predict his ploy to Loki’s misfortune, guiding the glaive over her shoulder and deflecting his blades at the last second. twirling her weapon back to the front, The Golden Lightning spun rapidly to deliver a powerful kick directed at her foe’s abdomen—unfortunately for her, Loki caught her feet in his hand before she could fully extend her leg.
“Nice try,” the knight smirked.
“It’s not over yet,” Atalanta offered a serious response.
Her boot began to radiate an energetic amount of azure lightning sparks—leaking into Loki’s hand, and traveling up to his arm. Extending her leg completely, Atalanta finished her attack with a potent lightning bolt shooting out from her kick—an overbearing amount of energy that slingshot Loki away with his body arched forward.
Breathing slowly to stabilize her heart rate, the blonde knight took her fighting stance before fixing her slightly tilted mask. “You know I’m not a pushover,” she pointed her glaive at Loki. “Now, tell me the reason for all of this. Have you betrayed the order?” her voice grew angrier.
Loki laughed while picking himself up—wiping the dust from his clothes. “I am as loyal as you are, Golden Lightning.” he mockingly referred to her by her title—cracking his knuckles and the joints of his neck. “As gladean knights we were raised to fight, and even kill each other if necessary... all in the pursuit of a single goal.” he continued. “To become the champion of our generation, a feat that I alone reached with my own strength.”
“Where are you going with this?” Atalanta kept her guard up while listening to rambling knight.
“See, we both know that this... creatures.” Loki pointed at the knocked out knights Atalanta took down. “Are not the people you and I used to know, even if they are... needed in a way.” He lazily walked around aimlessly, twirling one of his swords in hand. “They are weak, too fragile to be gladean knights... their power would see better use under someone more... capable.” he grinned confidently.
Atalanta tensed up, strengthening the grip on her weapon. “You are not making any sense... we are all knights, weak or not we are the children of Gladea.”
“Are you really this naive? Even after all these years?” Loki stopped himself with a quick chuckle. “You know what, I’m not here to talk to you.” Loki prepared himself for an attack. “Just know that you are no longer needed, Golden Lightning... not when I am around.” he emphasized the word ‘I’.
Loki leaped from far away towards Atalanta, cutting the distance between them in a flash—slicing at her with a vertical swing of his sword. Atalanta deflected the attack with a quick motion of her glaive, knocking him back a fair distance away. Her opponent stunned; the blonde knight saw the opening for a frontal assault—beating Loki into the ground with a combination of blows from her glaive.
“Stop this, Loki.” she warned him, placing the blade of her weapon mere inches away from his throat. “I’m used to you being a pain, but this isn’t funny anymore...” the fierce tone of her voice displayed the anger her concealed face couldn’t offer.
The order’s champion however, found no empathy for her words as he grinned confidently. “You ARE naive...” the knight vanished suddenly, plunging a sword in Atalanta’s thigh from behind.
“Argh!” she dropped on one knee—overcome by the burning sensation in her thigh. Attempting to intercept Loki in his next attack, the blonde knight ignored the pain and turned quickly with a swing of her glaive—cutting the air as nothing stood behind her. “What!”
“Not even close!” Loki roared as he planted a strong kick in her back—hurling her away.
Atalanta bounced off the scorched earth multiple times before coming to a stop, pressing her palms against the ground with shaking arms—struggling to pick herself up. “I’m not done yet...” she groaned—the sword in her thigh vanished, leaving behind a bleeding open wound.
“Good, would be a shame if you died that easily.” Loki mockingly claimed while lazily approaching Atalanta. “It feels just like the good old times, don’t you think?” he cracked a quick chuckle. “When we all fought to climb in the ranks, and become the next champion of the order...” a distant smile covered his face. “Even the exile was there... what pitiful sight he was.” he suddenly burst into a laugh, wiping a tear from his eye.
“He has a name...” Atalanta growled—pain and anger mixed in her voice.
“So? I doubt even you remember such a nobody... uh?” the smug grin on the knight’s face dropped into a frown, sensing a frightening presence coming from within the fog.
Emerging from the darkest depths of the Deadlands, a specter of demonic appearance strode into the battlefield—the horns on its head arched backwards. Both gladean knights observed in shock as the familiar creature stood before them—a powerful aura radiating from its body. The core of the beast sparked with crimson lightning waves, the sharp blades on its arms engulfed in the searing heat of their flames. The demon offered a low and intimidating growl, pressing its hands into fists.
“That thing...” Loki snarled—his wide-open eyes boiling with anger.
Atalanta stood back on her feet, carefully holding herself with quivering legs. “No way...” she muttered. “I thought... it was dead...”
Cerberus HQ, CEO’s Office: 936, April 9th, Monday, 12:00 PM.
“It... it’s a real shame it has come to this...” Arwen expressed sorrow, sitting in a chair in front of the CEO’s desk. “I feel like she could’ve been a great asset, don’t you think?”
Sovereign observed the Deadlands as usual, his spectral left hand hidden inside his pocket. “Maybe... but King made his move, I have no other choice.” he calmly replied.
“I see... sending Sebastian would be too risky as well.” Arwen contemplated their options. “I guess there’s really nothing else we can do...”
“We can’t allow her power to fall on King’s hands...” Sovereign kept his stoic gaze on the red fog—traveling peacefully across the region. “Today... The Golden Lightning dies.” A loud cough escaped his mouth—drawing a few drops of blood.
“Yeon told me you’ve been getting sick more often, have you been taking your medicine?”
“Of course, but with the Deadlands expansion... this balancing act has become a little rougher than usual.”
Arwen dropped his shoulders with a heavy sigh—fixing his glasses. “What about the lieutenant?” he asked. “You said you lost contact with her not too long ago, is she alright?”
“She is somewhere near the spectral gear, but lost direct touch with her pistols.” Sovereign said. “I assume Bianca got to her before she could even put up a fight.”
Arwen leaned forward, surprised by the news. “What about the others? The outpost is under siege at the moment, won’t they need her help?”
“I would’ve prepared someone to assist in advance, but...” The CEO’s lips curved into a devilish grin. “I figured out who was behind the attack before then, so I deemed it unnecessary.”
“Really? Who was it?” Arwen eyes filled with interest.
“The student of a certain gladean knight I know about,” Sovereign huffed a quick laugh. “A hybrid knight under the name of, Maulik Thakkar.”
“Another hybrid knight, another problem for us...” Scratching his head, Arwen stood back from his sit and picked up his documents from the desk. “No need for me to ask about how you plan to resolve this, I assume?”
Offering no reply, Sovereign simply bared his teeth with a grin in front of the window—allowing Arwen to make his leave peacefully.
END OF CHAPTER