“I, like the Alliance that I lead, hold the principle of honor very close to my heart,” Lord Tenebris said, as if presenting a business proposal. “Therefore, I am going to give you a choice as to your fate.”
Stan was too terrified to respond. Never in a thousand years could he have possibly prepared for what Lord Tenebris was capable of. He had just displayed a show of power far greater than any player, even one with operating powers, could ever achieve.
“Your first option,” Lord Tenebris continued, “is to come with me to the battlefield. There, in front of all the citizens of Elementia, you will surrender to me, and declare the war over. I will then proceed to execute each of you, as well as the rest of your commanders. It will be swift, it will be painless, and all the rest of your citizens will be allowed to live in peace under the rule of the Noctem Alliance.
“Your other option,” Lord Tenebris said, after a brief pause to let his offer sink in, “would be to remain here, and fight me, four on one. I will not hold back on you, I will show no mercy, and I shall draw it out for as long as I possibly can. Once I am finished, I will go to the battlefield and assist my soldiers in wiping out all who serve you.
“This is not something that I wish to do. The war is over, and I do not wish to kill civilians unless absolutely necessary. However, the choice is yours.”
There was a moment of silence, with only the sound of the light breeze blowing through the council room and the crackling fire all around them. Stan was too stunned even to think properly. Only one single thought permeated all his thoughts: I am about to die.
He had no choice but to obey Lord Tenebris. There was no way that any of them could possibly escape from the council room with their lives, and even if they did, Lord Tenebris would find them. To fight Lord Tenebris would be torture. Stan remembered during the fight with King Kev, when his opponent had set him on fire and repeatedly tossed him into the air. Stan had never felt any greater agony in his life, but he knew that it would surely be child’s play in comparison to what Lord Tenebris would put them through if they refused to submit to him. And that was only what he would do to them. If they tried to fight Lord Tenebris, their fate would be shared with all who had ever followed Stan.
But on the other hand, if they did choose to be executed and end the war . . . then what? The citizens of Elementia would live on under the rule of the Noctem Alliance. Was that fate really so much better than a torturous death? Most of Stan’s followers were lower-level players. They would be banished from Element City and sent to fend for themselves in the wild. Even with the skills that they had learned in training under Commander Crunch, it would be difficult to survive. The Noctem Alliance probably wouldn’t leave them alone, either. Wherever the new players started their civilization, Stan was sure that upper-level players would go out of their way to harass and abuse them. If Stan surrendered, then his people might live on, but so would the hatred.
“I’m waiting,” Lord Tenebris said, sounding slightly irritated now. “I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer to stop this fighting as soon as possible to preserve as many of my followers as I can. If a decision is not made soon, then perhaps I briefly forget about my honor and go through with the option that I would find most fun.”
Stan’s throat felt as though it were being squeezed shut as his mind raced, trying to decide the lesser of the two evils. Somehow, the fact that he was going to die no matter what he chose barely even registered to him. All he could think about was which choice would result in less despair for his subjects, who had given their all to fight the Noctem Alliance and deserved as little pain as possible when the chips fell where they may.
Suddenly, Stan became aware of a new sound in the voiceless room—the sound of footsteps. Stan looked up and saw Kat stepping forward. Her hands were empty, and from where he was standing, Stan couldn’t see her face, only the back of her diamond armor. He watched, transfixed, as Kat walked directly in front of Lord Tenebris, knelt down, and sunk into a deep bow.
Lord Tenebris smiled as Stan found himself unable to even process what he was seeing. “So, Kat . . . you’re willing to speak for your president and your country, and surrender to me?”
Kat said nothing. Instead, in one motion, she let out a ferocious war cry as she sprung upright, her enchanted diamond sword in her hand, and headed directly for Lord Tenebris’s unprotected stomach.
Lord Tenebris acted just as quickly as Kat. He knocked the point of the sword away with his left hand, and instantly stretched his right hand out toward Kat.
Kat froze. She was still frozen in the midst of recovering from her attack. At the same moment, Stan felt the telepathic grip of Lord Tenebris lock him in place, and once again he felt the utter helplessness of having no control over his own body. Lord Tenebris no longer looked smug or arrogant. Instead, his face showed nothing but shock, which slowly morphed into rage, a burning hatred that contorted his features into an ugly ball of resentment.
“Wrong choice,” he hissed dangerously.
A blast of thunder rang from directly outside the battlements, and Charlie had to use all his willpower to keep from moving. With no warning, a hurricane-force gale had begun to rip through the tower, and Charlie could see an electric storm outside, sending slashes of light and energy across the black sky. Charlie knew that this couldn’t be a natural storm, and with a start he realized that Stan and the others had probably started to battle Lord Tenebris. They were probably right below him in the council room.
Charlie didn’t allow himself to think about his friends, though. Right now, he had to focus on saving himself, for the sake of his troops. His mind raced, trying to conceive a way in which he could hop on his pig and ride out of the tower before ELM cut him down. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t think of any way to make it work.
“I’m almost ready to go, Arachnia!” Enderchick chortled from behind him.
“Well, get a move on, then,” Arachnia replied darkly, speaking at a normal volume as the winds died down just as suddenly as they had started. “I don’t know what caused that storm, but I do know that I want to get off this tower as soon as possible. I don’t like being so close to Lord Tenebris.”
Charlie’s heart skipped a beat. They were getting ready to put their plan into motion! The instant that Enderchick disappeared with his pickaxe, Charlie knew that there was no way he could possibly escape—the tool was the only thing that he had to fight off Arachnia and Lord Marrow. Charlie desperately tried to picture his surroundings. He had lived in this castle for months, and he knew it like the back of his hand. There had to be something around him that he could use to facilitate an escape. . . .
Then, suddenly, Charlie heard it. It was faint, and he could barely make it out over the light breeze, the drizzling rain, and the sound of distant warfare . . . but he could still unmistakably hear it. A breathing—deeply pained, horrifically raspy, almost metallic—a sound that vacuumed all hope and warmth from the air.
Without really thinking, Charlie turned his head to peer outside the battlements. It didn’t matter if he was seen; he had to know if he was hearing correctly. Sure enough, there it was, flying not too far outside the walls of the tower, pure darkness seeping out of its body and floating into the sky, its three skeletal heads looking out over the city. Charlie had no idea what the Wither was doing there, but he wondered if perhaps he could use it to his advantage.
In the space of a second, an insane plan flooded Charlie’s head. He knew that there was next to no chance that it could possibly work. He had never before come up with a plan where so many things could go wrong. In the next second, Charlie heard the sound of Enderchick, right behind him, standing up, and giving a yawn. Charlie imagined she was probably stretching out, feeling refreshed after her long rest. It was do-or-die time.
Okay, Charlie, you got this, he said to himself, trying not to think too hard. Just act. One . . . two . . . THREE!
Charlie leaped onto his knees and grabbed the handle of his pickaxe o
n the ground, right as Enderchick grabbed the diamond pick. Before she had even realized what happened, Charlie wrenched the weapon from her hand, took aim, and threw the weapon as hard as he could. As all three members of ELM leaped to their feet and trained their weapons on Charlie, the diamond pickaxe spiraled out one of the open battlements, through the rainy sky, and directly into the back of the Wither’s center head.
The effect was immediate; the boss mob let out a horrifying roar. Before they could attack him, the three members of ELM spun around, glaring out the window to see what had made the noise. What they saw made their eyes widen, and they dived out of the way to avoid the massive explosions as the blasts from the Wither tore the wall of the tower to shreds. In the midst of the recoil from the blast and the flying rubble, Charlie reached to the floor and, with two hands and his good leg, propelled himself upright, hopping to the side and landing on top of Dr. Pigglesworth. He gave the pig a sharp kick with his heels, and the two of them sprinted across the floor of the tower toward the door that led to the castle bridge.
“Get him! He’s escaping!” Arachnia’s strangled cry erupted from the tumult within the tower. “Enderchick!”
Charlie glanced behind him and saw Enderchick standing in the center of the tower, her eyes trained directly on him. So focused was she on Charlie and his pig riding away from her at a breakneck pace that she didn’t even notice the Wither, which had floated into the room and was now aiming all three of its heads directly at her. Before she could even make a move, all three of the black skulls struck her, sending her flying through the air, a trail of dropped items leaving her body as she went.
Charlie couldn’t help himself. He ordered Dr. Pigglesworth to stop in the middle of the castle bridge, and he turned back around to watch the tower. Through the lingering smoke from the explosions, Charlie could see the two silhouettes of Arachnia and Lord Marrow. Though they initially tried to dodge the blasts of the undead demon, the explosions engulfed the room, tearing through the walls and eventually obscuring them from view.
Charlie stared, transfixed, as the entire tower ruptured from the inside out, in a constant barrage of blasts that continued for a full minute until, finally, the Wither flew over an expanse of stone-brick blocks, pockmarked by the dents from the explosions. In the midst of the dust and still-falling rubble, Charlie could make out three bodies lying on the still-intact floor, items levitating on the blocks around them.
There was no time for Charlie to react. He couldn’t think about the three players that he had just killed. He couldn’t even be relieved that the bounty hunters who had been hired to capture his best friend were now eradicated. All Charlie saw was the Wither, levitating above the bombed-out tower, its six eyes trained on him.
Charlie turned his pig around and kicked it into high gear just as the first black skull left the Wither’s mouth. It exploded behind him, and Charlie immediately regretted stopping to watch the destruction of the tower. He raced forward on Dr. Pigglesworth’s back as countless black skulls rained down right on his heels, destroying the flat expanse of stone brick on which King Kev and Stan had fought many months ago.
The other tower, Charlie thought desperately to himself, fixing his eyes on the tower at the other end of the bridge. There’s a staircase into the castle in there . . . if I can just get into the other tower . . .
A massive blast erupted right in front of Charlie. He grabbed Dr. Pigglesworth’s reins and yanked backward on them, causing the pig to squeal and screech to a stop less than a block away from plummeting into the abyss below. He glanced around wildly, looking for an escape route, but there was none. The hole in front of him blocked his route into the castle, and the entire castle bridge behind him had been completely blown apart, leaving nothing but a sheer drop to the rotunda floor hundreds of blocks below.
The Wither was levitating directly above the hole it had just blasted into the ground. The beast took in a raspy breath, and in a burst of light, a skull shot out of its mouth. This projectile wasn’t black like the others. It was light blue and traveled much more slowly—headed for Charlie.
He had nowhere to run. All he could do was steer Dr. Pigglesworth out of the direct path of the slow-moving blue Wither Skull before it struck the single, tiny remaining piece of ground he was standing on and exploded.
Stan devoted all his willpower to moving the arm that was holding his diamond axe, but it was no use. Lord Tenebris’s supernatural grip on him was too powerful. He glanced over at Cassandrix and Leonidas, and saw that they had given up fighting, recognizing the futility. They were only focused on Kat.
Kat stood in front of Lord Tenebris, her diamond armor shimmering in the glowing orange light of the fire. Although her arm was still in position from her deflected attack on the Noctem leader and she, too, was totally immobile, she glared at Lord Tenebris with a defiant look on her face.
“So,” Lord Tenebris whispered, his white eyes staring deeply into hers. “You thought you could trick me.”
Kat said nothing. She just continued to stare unwaveringly into the empty white sockets of Lord Tenebris’s eyes, almost radiating her hatred of him and the Alliance he commanded.
“Perhaps you didn’t understand me, Kat,” Lord Tenebris continued in a soft voice that sent chills down Stan’s spine. “If you care for your people in the slightest, I believe that it would be in your best interest to bow down to me.”
“Never,” Kat growled, speaking for the first time since entering the council-room chamber. Her face was contorted with grit and determination, and no fear showed in her eyes as she stared down her opponent, her resolve blazing as brightly as the fire that surrounded her.
Lord Tenebris’s eyes widened. Within an instant, all sense of restraint and subtlety went right out the window. His face twisted, his features accentuated by the fire, and he seemed to be the embodiment of a demon as he stared back at this player who defied him.
“I said . . . BOW!”
Kat sank to her knees. Her hands were forced down onto her thighs, and slowly, she began to lean forward, her head moving closer and closer to the floor. She was shaking like mad, streams of sweat trailed down her face, veins popped in her head, and her teeth gnashed together as she did all she could to battle Lord Tenebris’s telekinetic grip. Despite all her efforts, her head continued to sink. Right as her forehead was about to press into the stone-block ground, she spoke.
“No . . . you . . . don’t!”
It was as if Stan was watching in slow motion. Kat’s head snapped upward, her body flying up out of the kneeling position, arching backward as she broke free of Lord Tenebris’s hold. As the force of her motion carried Kat upward and back onto her feet, she let the arrow notched in the bow in her hand fly forward, directly into Lord Tenebris’s unguarded chest.
Lord Tenebris glanced down at the projectile protruding from his heart. He didn’t look pained, or angry, or even surprised. He merely looked confused, as if he had no idea where it had come from. Stan could only see the expression for a split second, however, before Kat’s sword struck Lord Tenebris across the forehead.
Lord Tenebris stumbled backward, dazed and unprepared as Kat let loose another blow, this time across his stomach. The Knockback and Fire enchantments on the sword took effect as the supreme leader of the Noctem Alliance burst into flames. Kat didn’t stop. She was like a machine, rushing forward and delivering strike after strike after strike to Lord Tenebris, sending him flying farther and farther backward across the council-room floor.
Stan felt himself released from Lord Tenebris’s psychic grasp, but he was still unable to move. He could only watch as Kat dominated Lord Tenebris, the foe that they had been fighting against for months.
Within seconds, Lord Tenebris had been pushed all the way across the floor. He slammed into the elevated platform on which his throne was perched with a dull smack. He slumped down, his back against the wall, and his arms, legs, and head limp as he sat in the midst of the ring of fire, flames engulfing his enti
re body.
Despite her rush of adrenaline, Kat took a moment to catch her breath, never taking her eyes off Lord Tenebris. As she stood in the center of the chamber, the eyes of her three friends locked on her with awe and utter disbelief, Kat came to an alarming realization. Lord Tenebris was still alive! If he had died, she would have seen the telltale burst of items around him—even in the fire they would linger for an instant before being burned into oblivion.
She had delivered sword blows to all of Lord Tenebris’s vital points, and he was sitting in a vortex of fire. Kat knew that if he was still alive, he wouldn’t last much longer. She could very easily just stand by and let the fire finish him off. But . . . no. Kat knew that she couldn’t do that. After all that this demon had put her and her friends through in the past months, she wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than delivering the killing blow herself.
Kat grasped the hilt of the diamond sword firmly in her hand. She glared at the unconscious form of Lord Tenebris. Her eyes flashed, and she let out a savage cry as she rushed forward, her sword trailing behind her, and when she was just a few blocks away from Lord Tenebris, she leaped into the air, soaring through the flames and bringing the blade down with all her might.
The diamond sword halted in place when it was just pixels away from the crown of Lord Tenebris’s head. Kat had frozen in midair.
Lord Tenebris was still lying in a slouch against the throne platform, limp and unconscious . . . limp, that is, except for his hand. His blocky right hand was raised, clenched into a fist, and suspended directly in front of Kat’s face. All at once, Stan felt Lord Tenebris’s grip tighten again. He was totally unable to move, leaving him, Leonidas, Cassandrix, and Kat to watch as Lord Tenebris opened his eyes.
The Noctem ruler stood up straight. Detestation was ripe in every line of his still-burning face as he inhaled deeply, then let it out. In an instant, all the wounds that Kat’s sword had inflicted upon him vanished. The arrow popped out of his chest and fell into the fire, to be consumed by the inferno. The fire erupting from his body extinguished, and he was totally unaffected by the flames all around him as he began to fly upward, his hand still outstretched toward Kat, who levitated slowly upward with him.
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