“I guess I left you guys alone for too long and now you need a lesson.” He moved in a blur, grabbing Tethre’s neck and slamming her against the wall. “I’m the Horseman of the Black Night. I founded this Court.
“I’m your ruler and you owe me everything you got. The weak are meant to be nourishment for the strong and what you call senseless deaths were just sacrifices needed to increase my power.
“Just as the undead are superior to humans, I’m above the undead. I’m the apex predator. No matter how old or powerful you claim to be, I can kill you with the same ease I snuff out a candle.”
“I’d like to see you try!” Tethre reverted to her real appearance, grabbing the Dead King’s fingers with both hands.
She twisted them open, kicking him in the face with both legs and sending him crashing against the opposite wall.
“You brag and brag, but you haven’t achieved anything on your own.” Rusta the Banshee said with a scream that took Orpal by surprise and made his eardrums bleed. “You are a tyrant and a threat to our lives!”
“If leaving the hard work to us while you play around is what the Dead King is for, then the Night Court can do much better without you.” Vrudra the Lamia struck at him with so much force that the Davross of his armor sounded like a gong.
One after the other, all the elders of the Court joined the fight and attacked Orpal from every side. The pain of the betrayal froze him up for several seconds during which they pummelled at him like a sandbag.
That was supposed to be his Court and those people were supposed to be his slaves. Adoring, mindless drones willing to do everything for their master. Yet here they were, turning against him like his family had done to him as a child.
“Enough!” He took out Thorn and activated the power of the Black Rose armor to repel the undead. “No matter how many you are, you are no match for my Davross equipment.”
A snap of his fingers activated the arrays of the Court, sending the elders writhing on the ground in a seizure.
“I barely felt your hits but you can be sure you’ll suffer a lot from mine.” A second finger snap was supposed to increase the intensity of the torture, but it actually stopped.
“Do you take us for idiots?” Tethre stood up, her wounds healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.
“We added our energy signature to the array control system before summoning you here. We can control the magical formations as well.”
“Really?” Orpal and Night joined their efforts and it took the collective will of the elders to keep them at bay. “Let’s see how good at fighting you are while my partner forces you to focus on the arrays.”
“Oh, we won’t amount to much, but she will.” Tethre’s face was a mask of determination, but a wide smile appeared on her face when the door opened and Thrud walked inside the room.
She wore Arthan’s set that covered her from neck to toe, leaving only her face and her golden hair exposed. The undead elders formed a corridor for her, kneeling at her passage like the loyal servants they were.
“At ease.” A snap of her fingers and a touch of Arthan’s Sword tipped the balance in the elders’ favor.
“You betrayed me just to serve her?” A revolt he could understand, but bending the knee to another ruler was more than Orpal’s fragile ego could take.
“Of course we did.” Tethre said with a sneer. “She’s more powerful and wise than you’ll ever be. Her soldiers are truly immortal yet she doesn’t throw away their lives as you do.
“Thrud shares with them her knowledge and power while you just steal from us and hog all the fruits of our work. We knew that we couldn’t beat you alone so we called her here.”
“I accept your loyalty.” Thrud said without even looking at Orpal.
She picked the fallen crown from the floor, admiring its handiwork.
“The artisan was a true master and these gemstones are priceless. The form you have chosen, however, is barely that of a toy. Something tacky and childish. It suits you very well, Meln.”
“My name is Orpal!” He punched Thrud right on the chin with all the strength he could muster.
The two Davross armors emitted a silvery sound ruined by that of broken bones.
The Dead King whimpered like a beaten dog while he held his injured hand and took a few steps back.
“No, you are Meln. A stupid kid who became an orphan the moment his parents understood what kind of a rotten apple he was.” Thrud replied. “Your family rejected you. Your homeland banished you.
“And now even the subjects that remained loyal to the Horsemen for centuries despite their disappearance are turning their back on you. At some point, you have to ask yourself: is it really the whole Mogar to be wrong, or am I really the piece of shit everyone says I am?”
Orpal lost it, attacking her with everything he had.
He shapeshifted into his Vurdalak form, using the Davross claws of the armor to reinforce his own. He used the full power of elemental fusion, adding even gravity fusion to make each of his attacks ten times heavier.
Yet Thrud could take them all without even bothering to block. The Arthan armor was heavier than the Royal Fortress armor, better enchanted, and its wearer had the powerful physique of a white cored Griffon.
“Is that all you got?” She asked a few minutes later, once Orpal ran out of breath and was forced to stop his attacks. “I hope you had fun because it’s my turn now.”
The Mad Queen simply extended her arm forward, placing her hand on his chest and pushing the Dead King against the nearby wall. That simple motion carried the kinetic energy and mass of several tons of Davross and dozens of tons of Thrud’s refined body.
The open palm struck with the energy of a falling mountain, squeezing the air out of Orpal’s lungs and leaving a deep mark with the shape of Arthan’s Gauntlet on the Black Rose armor.
His brain bounced back and forth inside his skull, giving him a concussion so severe that he started to bleed from his nose. Then, while keeping him still with her left, Thrud struck at the Dead King with her open palm.
“You are very good at dealing with women, children, and the elderly.” Her slap pulverized his jaw and sent his teeth tumbling onto the floor. “Trequill Lark was a good man and a loyal servant of the Kingdom, yet you defiled his legacy.”
A second slap shattered what was left of Orpal’s jaw and cracked cheekbones up to the skull.
“Mirim Distar was a chivalrous woman and a pillar of the community. You violated her home and attacked her right after she had risked her life to protect the Kingdom, like the coward you are.”
A third slap ripped his head off his neck, but black crystals sprouted from the stump, regenerating it.
