The Hero

Chapter 19

The area was cast in thick shadows in a way that obscured the Champion from any detection. The only light came from lanterns scattered in the distance as well as those in front of the gate. Unlike normal guards that would usually be drinking or chattering, these were in full armor and spoke not a word. They emitted a wall-like presence, making it clear they wanted no visitors; however, it wouldn't be up to them who entered and who didn't.

Once out of the shadows, the Champion walked up to the guards in a slow trot, his sword hoisted over his shoulder. His sudden appearance startled the guards who brandished their weapons in return.

"You cannot enter," one of the guards said, as he thrust the tip of his spear right in front of the Champion's chest.

"Pointing weapons at your king," the Champion muttered, then swept the spear out of his way. "This is my castle. You are to guard it from any intruders that may threaten me—"

"You are the intruder, sire," the other guard spoke up. At his voice, the main guard returned his spear back into position so there were two acting as a barricade. Laughable.

"If I'm not mistaken," the Champion leaned forward, his chest pushing back the spears out of sheer brute force. His helmet gleamed in the lanterns' light, which gave an ominous, desirable radiance to what lay behind his visor, "I'm the King. Me. Nobody else—if anybody would dare to contest me, let it be so. Let it be decided in combat."

He took another step forward to make the guards backpedal. Their spears were merely tickling his chestplate. He could easily grab the shafts and break them apart if he wanted to.

"You are trespassing after curfew—"

"It seems you are the trespassers, not me," the Champion declared. He gently pushed his right gauntlet down on the spears to render them useless. "Now," he leaned right in front of the guards' helmets, which couldn't hide the shaking fear from within, "move aside."

"This is high treason..." the guard trailed off, unable to finish as the Champion gripped the spearheads until the material crumbled into nothing. Speechless, the guards look at each other, then ran into the castle. There would be reinforcements soon, but nothing would stand in his path.

He wouldn't lose his throne, even if the whole world was against him.

Like he hadn't been in the castle for months, years even, the Champion stepped forth. The cold breeze rippled against his back, yet he only felt warmth ahead of him. The corridor was barely illuminated by speckles of light along the walls, the main source being moonlight from the windows on the left. Each was a drape upon the floor with a rug in the median. The eerie echo of silence made it apparent nobody was around. At least for now.

"Loyalties," the Champion scoffed, as he marched through the hallway. "Nobody is truly loyal. They only serve for the sake of their own hides. One single threat, one tiny sinister stare, and they revert to their cowardly states. Take the side of the majority. Take the side that will spare you." He chuckled with a shrug. "In the end, they still die. What does it matter?"

In quick succession of silence, footsteps rang through the hallway—a rhythm of them, rather. It sounded like an army charging forth with shields in front of them, swords behind them. One straight line. It was a shame he never had the opportunity to see his former soldiers perform such tactics. All they did was watch. He could never get over the pure cowardice of men supposed to be brave warriors.

"Halt!"

The word bounced around the seemingly vacant hallway until it reached the Champion, who glanced ahead. He spotted a whole row of guards identical to those that challenged him outside, but this time with kite shields having patches of light on their extruded parts.