Chapter 25
The Sword of the Dragon King
The people of Nibelheim weren’t the only ones planning to escape. By then, everyone along the coast was, for the Dragon King’s laws had become so strict, you could hardly even breathe without breaking them. Nowhere was this made clearer than in the village of Beville that night.
As usual, he began by sending his dragon. Like a storm, it flew in and wreaked havoc, lighting all the buildings on fire. The smoke that rose from the ashes blinded and choked everyone, causing them to panic and run into the streets. That’s when the soldiers poured in.
image [https://i.imgur.com/3YqIknP_d.jpeg?maxwidth=520&shape=thumb&fidelity=high]
Choada the troll led the first wave, using his long tongue to snatch anyone who dared to run. Kanga Kang’s army followed shortly after. Carefully, he gathered and weighed the booty. Zeetan led his army to the village temple. With his big hammer, he smashed it to pieces and knocked down the statues. The survivors were brought to what was left of the village square. Finally, the Dragon King himself emerged, walking right through the flames, his scary red armor glowing like hot coals.
“WHERE IS HE?” he thundered, glaring at them. “WHERE IS HE?”
But they were all too frightened to answer. Slowly, he took off his helmet, revealing long, greasy black hair and a battle-scarred face. He was missing one eye—as well as many of his teeth. His expression was grim and menacing. “I said . . . where . . . is . . . he?”
No one could decide whether he was scarier with his helmet on or off. He crossed his arms and scanned the crowd. Eventually, he found who he was looking for.
“Look! There he is, m’lord!” said Kanga Kang. The kangaroo pointed to some soldiers coming around a corner, dragging an old man with a long, grey beard. “They found’m underground! Cheeky buggas! Musta’ been hidin’m!”
“Good . . .” sighed the Dragon King, with a most sinister smile. “Bring him to me . . .”
image [https://i.imgur.com/nbpFJE6_d.jpeg?maxwidth=520&shape=thumb&fidelity=high]
Kanga Kang hopped over to the old man and boxed him in the stomach. “Hass-ah!” Then, he spun around and kicked him. “Hass-ah!” The elder flew forward, landing head first in the mud. The Dragon King pointed and laughed with all his soldiers—“Muah! Hah, hah, hah!”—before beginning what may sound like a familiar speech.
“Liars!” he yelled, raising his arms. “Traitors! Thieves! How dare they break the law! How dare they! We’ve tried to be nice! We’ve tried to be patient! Look how we’re treated in return!”
The poor people of Beville looked at each other just as confused as everyone else who’d been invaded that week. Laws? They didn’t remember breaking any laws.
Only the elder was brave enough to speak up.
“What are you talking about?” he said, coughing up dirt. “What crimes have we committed? There must be some mistake. We haven’t done anything!”
Hearing this frustrated the Dragon King. Grumbling, he reached into his armor and pulled out a list.
“Mr. Kang!” he yelled. “Come forward, please! You may do us the honors! Tell them the laws they’ve broken, so they may know what to beg forgiveness for.”
“Aye, m’lord!” the kangaroo answered.
With his great big foot, he kicked the elder in the stomach again, just for the fun of it. “Hass-sah!” Then, he snatched the paper and hopped onto a box. Reaching into his pouch, he took out a clipboard and a pen. “Ahem! Ahem!” He took off his sunglasses and put on his reading glasses. Quickly, someone handed him a megaphone. The villagers felt exactly the way you would if you beheld such a thing, reader. When he was finished clearing his throat, he clenched his fist and screamed. “Ro-ight!”
Everyone listened closely.
“First law brick’n . . .” began the kangaroo. “Stealin’ from the government! Second law brick’n . . . preventing an officer from performing his duty! Third law brick’n . . .” He took a deep breath, this time screaming even louder. “Bll-asphemy! Hate speech against our dear leader, and his cause! Fourth law bri—”
But before he could continue, some of the villagers started interrupting.
“Hey! Wait! Wait just a minute!” said one. “We didn’t do any of those things!”
“Yeah!” called out another. “We’ve never stolen from you!”
“You’ve got the wrong village! We’re innocent!”
As they said this, Choada stepped forward and reached for his whip, for being rude was also against the law. But the Dragon King signaled him to stop just in time.
“It’s alright, Mr. Choada! Let them speak! We believe everyone has the right to a fair trial, don’t we?”
The troll nodded and stepped back.
“Continue!” the Dragon King insisted.
But the villagers weren’t so sure they wanted to anymore.
“W-w-we s-s-said . . .” they stuttered. “We haven’t s-s-stolen anything . . .”
“Y-y-yeah! H-h-honestly! W-w-we haven’t!”
“Oh, no?” answered Kanga Kang, hopping back down. “Then, tell us . . . what do ye call THAT?”
He pointed to a carriage full of vegetables.
“That?”
Kanga nodded.
“Well . . . those are the crops we grow.”
“But what’s the sign say, wise guy?”
The villager squinted. “Taxes,” he answered. “Property of the Dragon King.”
“Looks a little light, doesn’t it?”
“Well . . .”
Kanga hopped right up to his face and put the megaphone next to his ear.
“Someone’s had their DIRTY LITTLE PAWS in there!”
“B-b-but . . . but . . . we’ve only been keeping what we need to survive. You take too much. Our children are starving. We have no choi—”
“Oi! What was that?” yelled Kanga before the man could finish. “An admission of guilt! You all ‘eard it!” He raised up his megaphone and started hopping up and down, excitedly. “GUILTY! GUILTY! GUILTY!”
The soldiers all started cheering along with him.
“GUILTY! GUILTY!”
The villagers couldn’t believe what they were hearing.
“What about interfering with police officers?” another shouted. “We’ve certainly never done that!”
This time, the troll answered. Though, it was very difficult for anyone to understand him.
“Lazz, yo’ honn!” he croaked. “All lazz! Look hee-ah!” He pointed to his wrist, where there was a little scratch. “Jus las’ week, one of em’ rascally motha’s bit meh! Assaul! Batt’raw! Breakin’ de law, sah!”
“I knew it!” shouted Kanga, bouncing up and down some more. “Guilty! GUILTY AS CHARGED!”
The soldiers echoed him again.
“GUILTY! GUILTY!”
“But,” the villager pleaded. “That was only because he was coming to kidnap our children! All we did is beg him to stop. You can’t charge a mother for protecting her child . . .”
“What about blasphemy?” another villager asked. “Hate speech? We’ve never said anything hateful to you. This, I’m sure of.”
Quickly, Kanga hopped over to him next and started poking him.
“No! That’s right! Ye don’t! But ye don’t praise him either, do ye?”
“W-w-well . . . I . . . I suppose not.”
“And why is that? Hmm?” He pulled down his reading glasses and glared at him, poking him some more. “Hmm? HMM?”
“W-w-well . . .” The man looked around at all the burned-down buildings, thinking about how they’d been treated all these years. To the villagers, the answer seemed obvious. But to the kangaroo, it clearly wasn’t. “I . . . I . . .”
“MmmHmm . . .” sighed Kanga, scribbling something down on the piece of paper. “Just as I thought. Ungrateful! Indignant! Hateful! Ye don’t even really believe the Gov’ ‘ere should be king, do ye? In fact . . . it’s probably what drove ye to commit the worst crime of all!”
“W-w-what? M-m-me?” asked the villager.
Kanga hopped back onto the box and took his deepest breath yet. Screaming at the top of his lungs, he yelled. “FOURTH LAW BRICK’N . . . mur-der . . . MURDER MOST FOUL!” He pointed to the village graveyard.
“B-b-but . . . b-b-but . . . those are our graves. Your soldiers killed those people. It’s YOU . . . who have been murdering US!”
Surely, reader, they couldn’t blame that on the villagers too. But once again, they were surprised.
“Yesss . . .” hissed Kanga, disgusted. “But YE MAKE THEM do it, don’t ye? Ye . . . with all ye teasin’ and mockin’! Bullyin’ . . . harassin’m all day long!”
“W-w-what? No, we don’t . . .”
“Oh, yes ye do! Just the other day, one of the soldiers saw ye smiling!”
“But . . . we weren’t mocking them.”
“Well, who were ye mockin’ then? Hmm?”
“No one . . .”
“Hah! Ye expect us to believe that?”
“But it’s true . . .” squeaked the villager. “Sometimes, we just smile . . . and laugh . . . you know? Our lives are hard . . . but we believe in making the best of things, never giving up and always having hope. So, we do things like sing as we work . . . smile . . . or play with our children. We mean you no harm with it.”
“Well, ye DO harm us,” said Kanga. “It’s enough to make a man SICK. Look—Murph over here has been ill for three days because of it. Haven’t ye, Murph?”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“That’s right,” said the soldier named Murph. “Me losin’ me-livelihood! Put that one on the list, Kanga!”
“Ro-ight!”
Now the villagers were just angry, reader. Altogether, they exploded with complaints—shouting, stomping and shaking their fists in defiance. But all it did was make the Dragon King and his army laugh more.
“MUAH, HAH, HAH, HAH! MUAH! HAH! HAH! HAH!”
They loved every minute of it. Clearly, the villagers realized, talking to the Dragon King wasn’t going to solve the problem.
But that’s when everything started to get worse. Amidst the rabble, the Dragon King heard something he didn’t find funny. It was very faint, but it seemed to be coming from somewhere in the back row.
“Yeah, get out of here!” the voice called. “We’re not afraid of you anyways!”
All the laughing immediately stopped, reader. Exploding with rage, the Dragon King started thundering again.
“WHAT? WHO SAID THAT? WHO! SAID! THAT!”
Never had the villagers beheld such fury in a man. Everyone froze again and became dead silent. Eventually, the one who uttered it dared to raise his hand.
“YOU!” the Dragon King screamed, pointing at him. “COME HERE! RIGHT . . . NOW!”
A brave young man made his way to the front of the crowd.
Fearlessly, he walked right up to the Dragon King, crossed his arms and looked him square in the eye.
“Now . . . tell me again,” the Dragon King sighed, cupping his hand over his ear. “What was that you said back there?”
“You heard me!” yelled the man. “I said we’re not afraid! Not of you . . . or your STUPID goons . . .”
“No?” The Dragon King didn’t even look mad anymore, only surprised. The villager was short, skinny and poor-looking. He wasn’t wearing armor. Nor did he appear to have a weapon. “And why is that, exactly?”
“Because . . .” said the young man, smirking. “Our elder told us there is a God! A God who loves us! A God who is powerful! Way . . . WAY more powerful than you!”
“Really?” asked the Dragon King curiously.
The villager screamed in his face again.
“YES!”
The Dragon King peeked behind the young man, but didn’t see anyone. Then he turned and looked behind his army. Again, he didn’t see anyone. He gazed up at the clouds and squinted. Still, there was nothing.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked.
The villager nodded.
“Yes, I am! So, you’d all better get out of here RIGHT NOW, before you make Him angry!” He stomped his foot. “THIS is your LAST chance!”
No one expected what happened next, reader. The Dragon King started shaking and quivering. He even looked like he might start crying. The people of Beville were astonished.
“Oh . . .” sighed the warlord. “Oh . . . I see.” He hunched over and pouted. “Well . . . if you’re sure . . . then I guess that changes things, doesn’t it?”
Was that it, reader? Was it over? Some of the villagers started looking hopeful.
“I guess . . .” The Dragon King sniffled, turning around. “We’ll all just have to . . . pack up . . . and leave. I guess . . . we’ll just . . . have . . . to . . . go back . . . and—”
But as he spoke, the elder noticed him slowly reach for his sword.
“Wait! Look out!” the old man cried. “Get down!”
As quick as lightning, the Dragon King spun around and sliced. The young man’s head flew off his shoulders and landed in the mud. The body fell shortly after. All the villagers gasped in horror.
“Well, would you look at that,” marveled the Dragon King, turning to his army. “I guess he was wrong. BAH! HAH! HAH! HAH!”
For the third time, the army burst into laughter with him. The villagers all started screaming and running.
“Muah! Hah! Hah! Look at them! Scurrying like little mice!” teased one soldier.
“They’re sure scared now!” teased another.
One by one, they caught the villagers and hauled them back. More than anyone, they seemed to enjoy teasing children.
“Rawr! Rawr! Where do you think you’re going, you little brat? RAWR! Looks like God doesn’t love you much after all, does he? HEE! HEE! RAWR! Look what the Dragon King did! He’s going to get your mummy and daddy next! And then YOU! Muah! Hah! Hah! No one can save you now!”
The commotion ended when the Dragon King raised his sword and stabbed it into the ground with a loud crash.
“NOW,” he screamed. “IS THERE ANYONE ELSE? IS THERE ANYONE ELSE WHO BELIEVES IN GOD?”
This time, no one answered, reader. Even the elder was too shocked to speak. All the villagers could do was huddle together helplessly. Watching this put the biggest smile on the Dragon King’s face.
“That’s what I thought.”
He continued his speech. No one dared interrupt him, either.
“You know,” he chuckled. “I am beginning to see I was wrong about you people. You’re not as guilty as I thought. You’ve simply been deceived . . . misled . . . lied to . . . that’s all.” He pointed to the Elder. “By THIS fraud here! Let me guess. He told you that you’re important. He told you that your pitiful lives have value. There is a god up there, somewhere, who is looking out for you. IS THAT RIGHT?”
The villagers all nodded timidly.
“I thought so! But . . . let me ask you this. If that’s true, then where is this god? I mean, has anyone ever really seen him before? Hmm?”
No one had an answer.
“If he’s so powerful, then why didn’t he stop me back there? Maybe he doesn’t love you as much as you think. Maybe he isn’t even real. Or . . .” Then the Dragon King suddenly started roaring again. “PERHAPS HE IS AFRAID! JUST LIKE YOU! RAWR! GRAH! BRAW!”
The children in the front row screamed at the top of their lungs. Babies cried. It made the Dragon King laugh even more. “BRAH! HAH! HAH! HAH! HAH!” He drew his sword up again and stared at it, beating his chest. “No, god is not here . . . and if he is . . . clearly, he is on MY side!”
He hopped up onto the box, pushed off Kanga and grabbed the megaphone.
“You want the truth? God hates you! God doesn’t care whether you suffer! I know this—because I grew up there, in the wild!” He pointed over the mountains towards the middle of the island. “Starving! Freezing! Fighting every day for my life! You think your lives are hard? Hah! None of you can even imagine what I went through! If any of you had been in my place, you’d be no different than me!”
Many of the villagers didn’t know this about the Dragon King, but they knew the dreaded place he was talking about. Some even started feeling a little sorry for him.
“God loves only the strong! He helps only those who help themselves. He favors the bold! The cunning! The ambitious! He gives power and dominion to those who rise up and seize it! And preserves only those willing to do what is necessary to survive!”
Like a lion, he suddenly pounced down at the villagers. He raised his sword and smashed open one of the boxes of booty. The elder’s precious scrolls came tumbling out. Then, he stabbed his blade into the pile, and started dragging it across the village square.
“Now, because I am in such a good mood today,” he continued. “I have decided to give you all one last chance. Give up this silly religion. Leave this dreamer behind. Instead, join me. I will rebuild your village, double your rations and let you keep the rest of your precious children. God may not love you, but if you love ME, he will take pity on you. You will be rewarded . . . in this life . . . and any next to come. All you have to do is cross this line . . . get down on your knees . . . say you’re sorry . . . and call me king.”
The Dragon King waited patiently as the villagers considered his offer. No one wanted to cross, reader. But no one wanted to die either. They looked at their dead friend who was already half-buried in the mud. The mothers crossed first with the children. Then, the young women. Lastly, the men.
“GoOoOod . . .” the Dragon King croaked, patting them on their heads as they passed. “GoOoOod . . .”
Even the elder’s son went.
“I’m sorry, Father,” he whimpered. “But I’m not going to die for this.”
“Adda-boy,” said the Dragon King, patting him too. “You’ve done the right thing. I’m proud of you.”
By the end, the old man was the only one left. He sat in the mud, shivering and heart-broken. The Dragon King and his soldiers all laughed at him.
But the Dragon King still wasn’t finished, reader. He wouldn’t be satisfied until the elder crawled too. It was the only way he could be sure they’d never cross him again. Little did he know, there was someone else that night who had similar plans.
“Heh, heh, heh . . .” chuckled the Dragon King, stomping his scrolls even deeper into the mud. “Well, old man, it seems you have failed. But . . . I’ll tell you what. I’ll make you a deal. If you cross too, we will let you live. Come, join your people. Heck, you can even keep this pitiful religion of yours. Really,” he laughed like it was cute, “I don’t care . . . as long as you cross . . .”
But the elder didn’t move. Instead, he closed his eyes, put his hands together and started whispering.
“Hey! Are you listening to me!” growled the Dragon King. “I said cross! No? Alright, so you want to play rough then, do you? Okay, tough guy, how about this?” He turned to the crowd. “If the old man crosses, I will rebuild your village even better than it was . . . triple, instead of double, your rations . . . and return all your precious children. If he doesn’t . . . then I’ll round them all up . . . and destroy them right in front of you tonight!” Hearing this, the soldiers all drew their weapons. The villagers gasped and panicked. “THERE, IS THAT BETTER? FEEL LIKE CRAWLIN’ YET? BRAH! HAH! HAH!” He raised his sword to give the signal. “WELL, WHAT’S IS GONNA BE OLD MAN? HUH? WHAT’S IT GONNA BE?”
It would be the first time in the Dragon King’s life that he ever felt scared.
“Hey! What’s wrong with you? Are you even listening to me? What are you, deaf? What’s that you’re whispering? Show you? Show you what? HEY, I’M TALKING TO YOU! ANSWER ME! RIGHT NOW!”
This time, reader, the elder obeyed. But it wasn’t in the way the Dragon King expected. Far from begging, crying, bargaining or one last effort to flee, something happened our villain had never seen before.
Suddenly, as if awakening from a dream, the old man’s eyes shot open. He looked at the Dragon King confused, almost as though he’d forgotten he was there. Then he suddenly burst into laughter, like it was the best day of his whole life.
“AH, HAH, HAH, HAH!” he cackled uncontrollably. It was almost like someone was tickling him. “BAH, HAH, HAH, HAH! MUAH! HAH! HAH! HAH!”
Everyone watching was dumbstruck. Especially the Dragon King. If you had seen the look on his face, I am sure you would have started laughing too.
“H-h-hey . . .” the Dragon King mumbled. “Are you crazy? What are you laughing at?”
“You!” answered the elder. He still couldn’t stop laughing. “You! Tee, hee, hee! You really think you’re going to get away with this, don’t you? Bah, hah, hah! You thought God was hard on you as a child. Well . . . JUST WAIT AND SEE WHAT HE’S GOT IN STORE FOR YOU NOW! MUAH! HA! HA! HA!”
“What? God? What are you talking about, old man? Look, I’m right here!” He held up his sword. “If anyone wants to fight me, all they have to do is—”
But the elder interrupted him very rudely.
“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you, Dragon King? To be the only human who God Himself had to come down to defeat! But we both know that isn’t REALLY what scares you. It isn’t . . . what would really . . . REALLY HURT!”
It was like there was a whole different person talking, reader. The look on the elder’s face was unrecognizable. The rage in his voice and eyes was even scarier than the Dragon King’s. Our villain was speechless.
“W-w-who . . . w-w-who . . . who are you people?” was all he could say. He looked down at the scrolls he trampled, wondering what sort of God they believed in. He always thought they worshipped a nice God. But the way the elder was talking now, it was almost as if this God was even more ferocious than he was. “What do you believe is in store for me?”
“Your worst nightmare, that’s what!” the elder cried. Then, he stood up. His chains fell off—which everyone thought was very odd. He hopped up onto a pile of rubble with far more energy than an old man should have and started dancing. “A NEW KING WILL RISE!” he screamed. “SOMEONE EVEN MIGHTIER THAN YOU!”
He pointed at the Dragon King with a sinister grin.
“What? Impossible! No one is mightier than I! I . . . who had no help from God . . .”
“He will come from the same place you did . . . have the same hard life—no, even harder! But instead of being bitter, he will be cheerful and grateful. Instead of being cruel and selfish, he will be sensitive and kind. He will not crave power and riches, but only peace, love and harmony . . .”
Now, the Dragon King was really angry, reader.
“W-w-what?” he stuttered stupidly. “WHAT? No! That’s impossible . . . IMPOSSIBLE! No one could be grateful in a place like that! No one nice could survive! RAWR! YOU LIE!”
But the elder just laughed even more.
“Hoo, hoo! Hee, hee! Tee, hee, hee!”
He hopped back down and started prancing right towards the Dragon King, completely unafraid. It was the first time anyone had seen the villain take a step back.
“He will be stronger than you . . . faster than you . . . younger than you. The very soldiers standing behind you now will crawl over your bones to him, begging for mercy!”
The Dragon King glanced at his army and noticed that many of them looked worried. He heard some of them whispering about whether it could be true.
“H-h-hey! Stop it! STOP IT!” he said, shaking. “BE QUIET!”
“Stories will be told about his great feats . . . tee, hee! Statues around the world will be erected in his honor . . . hoo, hoo! While you, with your little sword and pathetic excuses, will be laughed at for all eternity, as nothing more than the FOOL who thought he could rise against God! BAH, HAH, HAH, HAH!”
Finally, the Dragon King lost control— “I SAID BE QUIET!” Fumbling for his sword, he raised it up high and struck.
But he was too late, reader. From that night on, news about the prophecy began to spread like wildfire. Rebellions broke out along the coast! Slaves revolted! Assassinations and spies plagued the halls of his fortress. The Dragon King may have killed the elder, but he never felt like he was truly dead. Sometimes, he swore he could still hear the old man laughing at him. Late at night, he’d awake in a sweat and see him grinning in the shadows.
As for the hero of our story, he was busy getting ready for the long journey ahead of him. Winter was over. His wounds were fully healed. The bones in his limbs had grown thick and strong. Especially the bones in his fists, reader! He could punch right through a slab of stone and not even feel it. Perfect for smashing into bullies’ heads! It was time. He was ready to leave. But could he make it before it was too late? The way was long and treacherous! He had no map, compass or guide to help! Nothing but a restless heart . . . a fool’s hope . . . and a hunch.
image [https://i.imgur.com/pfQlVcT_d.jpeg?maxwidth=520&shape=thumb&fidelity=high]