Uncrowned

Ch 5: Surrounded By Pests Called Humans

Dark King's POV

I walk along the dirt street, sword attached to the side of my armor. The citizens clumsily scamper away from my path, my mere existence having the power to part crowds.

Their faces are lined with dismay and anxiety, beady eyes questioning my presence.

How annoying.

I clench my fist and dark tendrils appear, flanking my sides; a loyal canine ready to attack. They quickly turn away and begin to mind their own matters, though their hatred for me remains strong.

I scowled.

Conniving Lucians, spreading their lies. I will enjoy their demise.

I continue down the path, letting out a string of curses.

If only I had ended that sorry excuse of a Champion when I had the chance. Now, I have to waste precious time hunting down the new warrior.

The war is my first priority and I will not lose my kingdom because of some weakling who is keen on seeking my demise.

Fortunately, the transfer of power occurred in the Capital, I can kill them swiftly and continue with my planning. I pursue the inconspicuous trail of magic and unsheathe my sword; the Champion is close by. I scan the crowd, ignoring the vexing people obstructing my view.

I discern her from the masses as she turns the corner into an alley; orange-brown hair peeking out of the tattered hood of her cloak. There is a small boy in her arms, but I could care less.

Casualties occurred often.

I follow suit. It would take several years, perhaps even more for a new Champion to emerge; leaving me enough time to destroy the idiot kingdom who dared to wage war.

I stop at the edge of the passageway.

The girl is leaning against the dewy, brick walls; the boy hidden away. It seems she has been expecting my arrival.

The Champion studies me, caramel eyes cautious yet curious.

"I do not want to fight you," she confesses.

So this is what she is, a coward. A champion who does not want to fight, how disappointing; but that allows me to gut her with ease.

I step forward; instantly at her anterior. Aiming to behead her, I slice the sword agilely at her neck.

The Champion removes the daggers from her scabbards and counters my blade with repose. She takes a step back and does not bother to attack. The girl attempts to speak once more, but I swing my blade across her mouth.

She jumps out of the way, but does not remain unharmed.

The tip of my long sword has managed to slit the corner of her lip; blood runs down the side of her face as the Champion stares at me, caramel eyes burning with anger.

I hear her mutter a string of curses about a stupid woman forcing this upon her.

I raise my weapon once more, however, the girl is already beside me and lashes her dagger at my torso.

I easily change the direction of my blade and halt the attack. But she is adamant; swirls of colorful tendrils whirl around her in a frenzy.

I am slightly startled, it had only been mere hours since her powers matured, but she has exerted control over them already.

Judging by her widen eyes, it seems she is surprised as well. A look of bitterness and regret passes over her face, before the Champion presses the soles of her boots into the gravelly floor and shoots forward.

I bring my sword to meet hers, becoming impatient with her simple frontal attacks. But the girl does not ready her blade again, instead she drives her dagger into my sword; chromatic threads aiding her.

The pressure is monstrous and it tilts me slightly off balance. I propel myself against the force when the unused dagger gets thrown into the air.

The luminous threads curl themselves around her free fingers, transforming them into sharp talons. She strikes her makeshift claws at my face, but slams into the barrier of dark tendrils instead.

Irritation pricks my mind like thorns, even with anger powering her, she is still so weak.

Perhaps the girl was only chosen as the Champion to annoy me to my grave. In any case, she is a pesky fly.

I sense a tear in my barricade and realize the pest has miraculously broken through. Her hand continues on its course, curling into a fist of vibrant colors and slamming into my jaw.

Pain shoots through my mandible as it becomes dislocated. I stagger back, fury channels through my veins in murderous gallons.

I relocate my jaw and flash her a savage glare, but the Champion continues to watch me without fear; catching the free-falling dagger in her hand.

I do not understand this girl, she does not want to duel like a coward, but has the strength of a warrior.

The hood of her cloak has fallen, and I can clearly see her face; it is taut and pale with determination and ire.

"I do not wish to fight," she repeats.

This angers me even more, does this fool of a girl look down upon me? The dark tendrils appear by my side once more and her eyes narrow.

I materialize inches from her. My arm shoots out, tightening around her throat and slamming her against the wall. She grimaces, but to my disappointment makes no sound.

"You do not wish to fight?" I ask as she struggles to lacerate my arm with her dagger.

I slam my blade into her arm, several inches above her wrist. The girl lets out an agonized gasp and immediately drops her weapon, arm laying limp.

"Do not patronize me," I snarl, as she pants labored breaths.

I raise my sword to her head and smile sadistically.

"If you do not want a fight, then I will kill you instead."

The Champion stills, face etched with desperation. Has she given up?

"We need each other," She suddenly chokes out.

The bright tendrils around her begin to dim as they fight helplessly against the shadows of my threads.

I scoff in disbelief and tighten my fingers around her neck, "The rashness of dying fools never ceases to amaze me."

"D-damn it," she whispers through short breathes. The girl peers at me through her lashes, eyes hesitant, yet powerful.

"I'll f-fight the Lucians a-alongside you."

I blink, "What?"

"I-n exchange for my life, I will a-ally myself w-with you.

Arrogant wench.

I smash the hilt of my blade onto her collarbone; she bites her scream in such effort that her bottom lips become tainted with crimson red.

"You can't even defend yourself against me, let alone help."

I release the girl and she crumples to the floor.

I place the side of the blade a few inches from her neck, ready to decapitate.

I swing my sword but am only able to the cut the flesh of her throat when a soldier runs up to me, forehead soaked with sweat.

"Your Majesty," he addresses, "Lucian soldiers are invading the castle."
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