Chapter 35: Revenge at its Finest
“Kill her!” Arthur shouted as he shoved the chair back, sending it to the floor, and pulling out his sword. The Knights around the room pulled out their weapons and ran forward.
The group shot into action.
Leroux zipped through the air, one of his sharp armored wing tips plunging into a Knight’s leg, sending him crashing to the stone.
Richard’s and Fernando’s sword slammed together.
Colt fired an arrow into a Knight’s hand.
Bram threw his axe across the room, striking a sword away from a guard’s hands.
The Messenger picked up someone and threw him against the wall.
The Knights that had accompanied Leroux flew through the windows and joined in the fight. They had been given strict orders not to kill any Mundus Knights.
The Captains’ sword collided together again. Immediately, Richard could tell that Fernando didn’t have his full strength. The Mundus’ arm was weaker due to a hot blade being dragged through it recently. However, he fought with all his strength and skill, doing his best to protect Dara and Victor.
Richard blocked a blow, and the next thing Fernando knew, Colt’s feet collided with his side and sent him ramming into the table. He swung at the Shifter while also blocking another blow from Richard.
A white blur shot through the air. Fernando flipped off the table and onto the ground. Leroux landed in a chair, Fernando’s sword in one of his hands. The Mundus Captain quickly pulled out a dagger.
Victor pulled out his sword, but before he could do anything, a series of moves and counters from Richard disarmed him. Dara quickly grabbed Victor and pulled him closer to her, protecting her son.
Fernando made the mistake of looking over at Victor. Colt spun around and slammed his foot into the Mundus Captain’s face, hitting him just right, so he was knocked out immediately.
The three backed up and holstered their weapons. The six Mundus Knights were all passed out around the room, being bound by the Farians.
Dara and Victor knelt to Fernando and wrapped their arms around him. They were trapped, outnumbered, taken off guard, and the room was hopelessly being eaten by fire.
Colt and Leroux looked over to the middle of the room and saw Raven. There was one target left: the King.
Raven began to walk to the King. Her sword trailing against the ground. The King readied himself. When Raven was close enough, he saw that her stance was still down, so he swung. She effortlessly sidestepped, avoided the attack, and slammed her elbow into his face.
He stumbled back as tears naturally appeared in his eyes. Raven swung her sword up, slicing the tip through his leg muscle. The King screamed in pain, and his free hand latched onto the wound.
Raven stepped back, allowing him to compose himself before they continued. She had waited years for this moment, and she was going to be damned if he didn’t suffer.
He swung again, and their swords connected. Before he could counter, Raven’s foot shot up and kicked the King in the new wound. He stumbled back, and she swung again, slicing part of his arm. She spun around and rammed her foot into his face, sending him to the ground.
Raven once again stepped back and looked at the King. She had to admit he was a worse fighter than she had thought, but maybe it was just from old age.
She shoved her sword into the sheath. “Come on!” Raven yelled. The fire rose, the remaining windows exploded, and the chandelier shattered from the heat. The glass rained down on the table, sending pieces of white and green every which direction.
With each passing second, Raven could feel her strength being drained, but none of that mattered.
The King made his way to his feet and noticed that she was now fighting without a sword. Glancing over at his wife and child, a new life flowed through him. Raven’s group still hadn’t hurt them, but the thought of what would happen to them if he lost was enough.
The King sliced his sword through the air, and Raven jumped back. He swung again and again, and finally, the second of the blows cut into her arm. Before he could swing again, she grabbed his arm that was holding the sword and locked it into place - the same position Richard had shown her. She swept the King off his feet and quickly finished the move - dislocating his shoulder.
Arthur screamed as his sword slipped from his fingers and clattered to the stone floor. Unwinding herself from him, he began to stand. She slammed both her feet into one knee, a sickening cracking noise shot through the air, and a scream followed. He crumpled to the ground and held his now broken bone with his good arm.
Quickly pulling out her sword again, she kicked his good arm away and rammed the blade through his forearm, pinning his arm and leaving him completely defenseless.
The King cried out as he tried to pull his arm away, but Raven jumped on top of him. Her fist slammed into his face again and again and again. The King’s head slammed into the hard floor with each blow.
Raven only stopped when she saw his eyes beginning to roll into the back of his head. Her right hand became ablaze and the other grabbed the collar of his shirt.
She pulled his head and neck off the ground and reeled her ablaze hand back, and . . . stopped.
Raven sat there, frozen.
The King wasn’t looking at her like she had when she was stabbed; instead, he was looking to the side. Her eyes looked over, and saw that he was staring at Victor and Dara. Both were crying, too paralyzed by fear and shock to move away from Fernando’s still unconscious body.
"P-Please!" the pair begged.
Something sunk into Raven. At that moment, she realized the King loved Dara and Victor more than he ever loved her or even her mum.
Death walked beside her and stared down at the King. The blackness grew on his skin.
Raven remembered the man in the Market. How easily she was convinced to pummel him. She remembered Oliver, how she had been so easily convinced to fight him. She felt Death trying to get her to do the same to the King. The voices began to echo throughout her head, screaming at her to kill him.
Raven realized that if she did kill the King, she would be doing what he had done to her. She couldn’t widow Dara again or make Victor without a father once more.
Now, Raven knew Arthur would never love her as he loved them, and she could never love him the way Dara and Victor loved him. She shoved the voices back, and they silenced - Death wouldn’t win this time.
Raven extinguished the fire on her flesh and sheathed his sword into her belt. She grabbed his crown from his bloody head and the ring from his finger and stood up. As she passed him, she grabbed her sword and pulled it out of his arm, earning a weak cry in pain.
Raven shoved her blade into a random part of her belt, the blood coating her armored legs. Dara and Victor ran to the King and began to assess his wounds. Fernando started to stir on the ground. Everyone else walked to the middle of the room and watched her.
Raven stepped up on the small platform and looked at the burning throne she had died in. She stopped, turned around, and looked at the flaming room. Her hands rose, and she placed the King’s crown crookedly on her head, over the Farian crown, and slipped the ring onto one of her fingers. She slowly sat down in the burning chair and breathed in deeply - with those actions, she was officially Queen, and the Knights couldn’t do anything to stop her. Even if they didn’t believe she was blood-related, fake assassinations were fair play.
The tugging and pulling increased, and her muscles froze once in the chair. But it didn’t matter anymore. She had won.
Death smiled at her. Though she hadn’t killed the King, she had won, and that was untimely all Death cared about. He now controlled one of the Five Rulers and would use that to ensure the Monstro Kingdom was protected. “Until we meet again, my dear.” Black smoke rose from his body, and he disappeared.
Now that Death was gone, Raven looked ahead, forgetting that Death still owned her. The King would be imprisoned, the Castle and villages improved upon, new alliances made, and she would finally be able to wipe out the Kingdoms that opposed her.
A small smirk came across her burned flesh, and the fire consumed more of the chair.
Her revenge was finally allowed to rise above the ashes.
~ The End ~
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