Legends: The Knight of Helm (#1)

Chapter 4

Volohs looked up into the giant iron foundation. He wondered how the Ommart lived in such a grand place. There was no mud, dirt or sand, no water and ice, it was if an urban waste, with thriving people. The whole city of Ariea was a fort made of complete iron. Volohs cracked his neck, as three of his men followed him into the gates.

The Ommart at the gate watched carefully with their tusk grown out like a bore. Their white pale skin made them look almost like a ripped and bulky paper cut out. They wore a leather belt covering their belly button and slimming down around their waste. They wore multiple clothes covering their groin area, but their hairy legs still showed. On their left shoulder was a steel plate of armor, and their helmets rested in their arms, and their swords in their hand. They had firm and spiky hair running from their head down to their tail bone. Their eyes where completely white, except for a black ring around their colorless pupil. Each man had his own share of scares as they let the soldiers through the gate. It was a silent, yet understood; that if they caused trouble they wouldn't live long.

Volohs felt slightly uneasy as he watched the two men grin as his feet hit the iron paths of Ariea. He was a tall man, but even the two Ommart were slightly taller than him. His men followed behind him loyally their weapons still sheathed. Volohs continued looking around the area with his mace resting on his shoulder, and shield on his back. He was ready to fight if needed, put not looking to cause trouble between the two factions.

Volohs wore a helmet with an eye slight running across his helmet horizontally, with another slit in the helmet slightly below his upper lip for breathing. His shield lying on his back covered his whole torso being a type of round shield. The shield had two indents making the figure favor a horizontal usage. His armor was made of the finest steel, with a polished finish.

The Ommart in the streets starred at the group of six men, as they walked on. Each man was worried, rather than Volohs who led his elite into the belly of the beast. The pale and white skinned people seemed to not be able to help their predator like glances at the steel covered men. Every citizen carried a weapon of some sort on their personage and was wanting for the blood of another. Little boys fought in the streets with dogs and each other, trying to prove their dominance. Women were scarcest, hard to find, most generals. Every man in the city was a soldier of some sort, and every prisoner was a slave, working in farms and trades watched over by the other men with weapons in their hands.

While women didn't grow tusk, it was rare for men to grow them, it was a sign of a mixed blood line with an Orc. Most Ommart who bread outside the race, where sentenced to death, and those who were half breads lost all their rights, rather than for military purposes. The Ommart society only let the top ten military generals reproduce, to keep the blood lines strong, among them was the king. The king of the Ommart had to prove himself by defeating, or killing all the top ten men to reach the throne, only then would he earn his right; blood lines to the throne where rare but not unheard of in the military society.

Volohs was glad they were guess, as the men walked through the blackened steel kingdom of Ariea. It was moments later when they had reached the throne door way. The black steel doors opened for the men, the rust taring away from the doorway hinges. The Ommart at the gate waved their hands for the group of six to walk forward. Volohs nodded, as the Ommart grunted in response. Three men took to each side of the room as Volohs walked up the big, dark green carpet.

"Volohs, King of the West, you sent notice to me through letter, why is it, exactly why you call upon me?" The man in the throne said with a powerful voice.

"Ah, King Orian, The pleasure is mine." Volohs said, taking off his helmet and giving a bow.

"Are we standing on ceremony? If so, the Ommart give each other a great fist fight to show respect." King Orian replied with indifferent eyes.

Volohs smiled, "If that is the king's wish."

King Orian tilted his head, as he gave a smile back, "You are bold! Do you really think a man can win against the king of the Ommart? I find it almost, disrespectful, if only our kind didn't like a challenge!"

King Orian stepped out of his throne dropping his kingly robes to the ground. Volohs knew that the Ommart didn't flinch, and that they loved pain, this was going to be the hardest fight of his life time. Now was the time to show an Ommart the fear and wrath of man. Volohs cracked his neck, as his he stuck his arms out for his men to take off his armor. Volohs was soon unarmored and walk forward. Both men started bowing at each other, head on their right knee, and both fist touching the ground.

There bare chest showed, in the cool room, as a small bell was ringed. The ring signaled the match, it was time. Volohs rushed at the enemy both struggling for power. Volohs was surprised that his own human strength was equal to the king of the Ommart, Orian. Volohs slammed his fist into the ribs of his opponent as he laughed it off. He had purple and blue colored rips as he rested his arms on Volohs. He was taunting him.

The young king knew how this fight had to be won, not by inflicting pain but constraining the opponent. Volohs grabbed the Ommart's arm slamming his elbow in the wrong direction. It was so badly twisted; the arm couldn't even be used. The King gave a sigh of relief with the tremendous pain.

"Now I'm going to kill you Volohs. The mighty king of nothing," The Ommart smiled, punching Volohs to the ground with one blow.

Volohs kicked at the incoming monster, keeping him at bay, for only seconds. The milk white man grabbed his leg dragging him with one arm towards him.

"You are weak!" The king shouted.

Volohs was angered by the man's ignorance. He was the strongest man to ever live, there was no arguing that. He had learned every technique to be learned round the world. It was time to prove his worth.

"Your ignorance will cost you." Volohs yelled as he felt the crushing blow breaking his knee.

Volohs yelled in pain, using the energy to slam his other foot through Orian's knee cap. A pop sound was made as the Ommart lost his strength to stand. Volohs continue, getting his broken leg free and standing up, blood rushing from his shin. The young king walked forward as Orian kneeled to him. It was far from over.

Volohs repeatedly started punching the man's face. His knuckles started to bleed, and the man's face began to split, but he wasn't going to stop until the white king was dead. Volohs heard his hand snap with his final blow. The king's body leaned forward.

"This feels so good. It's been a while sense I've felt like this." The King replied opening his eyes to stare at Volohs.

Volohs didn't even stare back, his hand slamming through the king's throat. The king's eyes went wide as he realized he could no longer breathe. He stood on both feet repeatedly attack Volohs, trying to kill the man for killing him. He began by slamming his whole body against one of the four stone pillars in the room. He picked up the man again tossing him into the wall. Volohs felt his ribs snap under the unforgiving strength of the Ommart King.

The king went to pick up the man, Volohs knowing what was to come next. He acted quickly. He grabbed both hands pushing through his pain, to snap the white monster's neck. The body laid lifeless on the ground. Volohs had won; he had another kingdom, an empire.

Volohs's men rushed over to his wounded body, as the Ommart guard bowed to their new king. Volohs had won, but was uncertain if he would ever walk again.