Midnight Bounties 4 - Chapter 33
Added 2025-08-10 11:00:01 +0000 UTC“Your Grace!” Seldon Wey Stoneford protested as he shot out of his chair. “Is this really necessary?”
“Sit your ass down, Voice!” the King snapped and Seldon planted his rear back into his chair.
“Blackmouth, finish him!”
Our dear and wise king was fuming. Spittle came raining out his mouth as he gave the command. The nobles had no idea what had come over their ruler, Seldon certainly didn’t and his frozen Queen had already left the place. I knew why, though. Under all that rage was good old fear.
I would have grinned if Blackmouth hadn’t placed his elbow into my teeth and rattled them hard. My head snapped to the side, my gaze wandering over the colorful rows of high-lords, ladies and their frightened children.
A dagger flashed before my eye right after. Close, too close. I managed to skip away and almost planted my fist in the gnome’s chest, but my hand only swung through grey smoke.
I felt a blade lodge itself in my shoulder, then another in my neck. Not deep, but deep enough to draw blood. I looked up and saw Blackmouth flying at me flinging small daggers as he speared for my head. I covered my face with one hand and braced for the impact. Blackmouth was faster than me, but I only needed one clean hit.
Just as he was about to bury his blades in my neck, I used (Rift Walk) and appeared behind him, then swung hard.
The gnome ate my first to the back of his head and was slammed down onto the polished floors with a crack of thunder. Tiles cracked and flew all over the place. Shards rained over the nobles as Blackmouth ground to a halt. I dropped to the floor next to the unconscious gnome.
“Wait, no!” the King cried. “Blackmouth, get up. Guard!” A dozen or so gold-clad men came at me from both sides.
“Don’t do it, men,” I threatened to no avail.
The first swung his sword at me so slowly, I could have told him the story of my life by the time it reached me. I grabbed the blade with my bare hand and shattered it, punched him in the helmet and dented the thing and probably much of his face, then caught the next guard with my elbow to the shield, bending it in half and knocked him just a tad bit too hard. The Royal Guard flew into the benches, shattering the wood and sending nobles flying.
“Come on!” I roared. “Stop this! You have no chance!”
But they kept coming like mindless zombies. It took me less than a minute to beat the King’s brave warriors into a pulp while making sure I didn’t kill anyone. It was tough. Constraint was never my strong side.
“Seldon! Ring the alarm, bring in the rest of the troops!” the King yelled.
Seldon shot up but I (Rift Walked) next to him and slapped him just enough not to break anything. The man just slouched back into his chair and doubled over drooling onto the expensive carpets of the dais.
“I’m not done with you!” Blackmouth suddenly yelled.
Blood was oozing down the side of his ugly mouth.
“You can take a punch, gnome. I’ll give you that.”
“I’m of the Three of Steel!” he yelled. “You’re a nobody!”
He disappeared again and I felt another cut across my forehand, then my shoulder, my cheek. He was incredibly quick, moving in and out of my range before I could do anything. Blood splattered against the walls and floor around me.
I gritted my teeth and (Rift Walked) away from where I was standing. But just as I appeared between the rows of terrified nobles, another dagger bore into my back. I turned, saw Blackmouth disappear, then faced forward and there was another gnome there, another Blackmouth.
“What? There are two of you?”
Not just two, but four all of a sudden. One hanging from the chandelier, one near me balancing on the edge of a bench, one near the dais, and the last was coming at me laughing like a maniac.
“Fine,” I muttered and (Rift Walked) again next to the dais, catching the nearest gnome with the secondary ability of my teleport. The blast sent him flying backwards and I followed up catching him by the ankle then swung him against the wall with all my force. The whole room shook as the gnome’s back rocked the wall, banners of Sankta Varath dislodged and dropped to the ground.
The other three were already coming at me with rage in their black eyes. Just before they reached me, I used (Rift Walk) again but only moved an inch so I could use the secondary ability again and sent all three of them flying. I didn’t have my swords, but I figured (Waltz of Death) would work just fine with my fists. I turned into a storm of angry knuckles chasing after two of them. I caught the first in the chin and felt his teeth shatter, the gnome spun and crashed into one of the unconscious Royal Guards.
When I caught up to the third one I hit him so hard he bounced off the floor, then ate another fist that lodged him between the tiles. As I ground to a halt, the three Blackmouths I had managed to catch were gone.
Only one Blackmouth stood across from me panting hard. Blood was seeping down the side of his mouth and temple.
“You’re one tough cookie, I’ll give you that, bastard,” he managed between breaths.
“Stop talking! Kill him,” the King cried, his voice full of desperation.
Blackmouth seemed reluctant, however.
“You know you can’t.”
“Fuck you!” the gnome hissed and spat a wad of blood on the floor. With the edge of my eye, I saw the King dashing to a door behind the throne.
I (Rift Walked) next to him, pulled his arm back, and held him up. He winced in pain as I dragged him back onto the dais and just next to his throne.
“I will pull his head off, Blackmouth. You know I can do it before you reach me.”
“Stop this!” the King tried to yell but it came out as a squeak.
The nobles, most of which were off their seats, had frozen in place.
“Don’t attack, Blackmouth! He’s not joking! Let my arm go, you’re hurting me you barbarian! I am the King!”
My Deeproot chimed at those words.
“Are you now?” I hissed. “Are you really, or are you a fucking pilgrim singler!”
He swallowed as murmurs and gasps echoed between the many high lords of Steelheart.
“What is this travesty?” a bulky bearded lord demanded. He was dressed in the colors of House Cerves, a big white rose embroidered into his robe. “Release the King immediately, traitor!” He spat.
“The balls on that guy,” I said. “Your nobles truly love you, don’t they?”
“Of course we do! This is our King, you savage!” another skinny elf said.
I recognized him immediately. It was Lord Javin of House Crystalwell, one of the richest and oldest families in the city.
“Except that this guy here isn’t your king, he’s a pilgrim! An imposter who isn’t even of the Catan bloodline.”
“How dare you!” the cries came from the nobles.
A weird kind of courage seemed to have filled them suddenly. These kind of people usually took to the mountains and then some at the first sign of violence.
“Tell them!” I screamed into his ear and squeezed the King. “Tell them the truth!”
“What truth!” he yelped. “You’re…a traitor, that’s the only truth!”
“Blackmouth! Admit it! You know it’s true,” I said addressing his lap dog in a moment of desperation. The gnome just sneered at me without saying a word. The doors swung open and a whole company of Royal Guard ran into the throneroom with Stein leading them.
“Oh, fuck me,” I muttered.
“Frank Gerber!” the fat commander yelled. “Stop this immediately! What has gotten into you?”
“Stein, stay out of this!”
“Men!”
“Your men will die and so will the King if they come any closer!” I snapped across the giant arched seat of Sankta Varath. “Tell them or I’ll end you right now, pilgrim!” I hissed into the pretender’s ear.
“You really think I would do that?” he said in hushed words. “You kill me now and this Kingdom will fall apart even without the Quinta.”
“Fuck!” I roared, trying to think my way out of an impossible situation.
“What has Nergat told you?” I asked.
The King suddenly smiled and I didn’t like that at all.
“I never met with the warlord. He sent his envoy. He had a suspicion that fat green bastard, and he was right to have it. He’s smarter than he looks.”
The Royal Guard inched closer, a company of crossbow men fanned out behind the benches and pointed their bolts at me.
“Frank!” Stein yelled.
“Shut up!” I yelled back. I squeezed the King’s arm harder, almost to a breaking point. Droplets of sweat poured down his neck and face. He didn’t’ want to die.
“There’s only one alternative to the truth, pilgrim.”
“You’ll doom this city and the Kingdom.”
“Why are you so sure I give a fuck about the Kingdom?”
“Nice try, son. You might be immune to my persuasion skill, but I can tell when you lie just as well.”
I spat on the ground.
“Fuck it,” I said.
I looked up at the hundred or so nobles holding their breath. At Stein and his small army readying themselves for the attack, at the paintings of Catan kings of old hanging around the white throneroom of my city and sighed.
There was only one alternative.
I grabbed the King by the back of the neck and snapped it with a soft twitch of my wrist. His lifeless body dropped to the floor, the crown rolling off his head and clanking down the three steps of the dais.
Someone gasped loudly. A woman broke into tears. A man screamed like a child. I breathed out long and hard, bracing for the inevitable epilogue to what I had done.
“King Slayer,” someone muttered.
There it was, I thought. The first and definitely not the last mention of my new title.
“Frank. What have you done?” Stein said, dropping his sword to the ground. It clanked hard, filling the throneroom with its sound like a temple bell. Nervous murmur erupted across the room, people cried, others stood frozen like statues, but all had one thing in common, they seemed dazed as if just having woken from a dream.
“Hold on a minute,” Lord Cerves said with anger in his voice. “What am I even doing here? I should use my men to defend my castle, not let them die in this doomed city.”
“How can you say that, Cerves?” another noble barked. “We are sworn to protect the capital in a siege!”
“No, we’re not!” yet another bellowed. “There’s no law that commands such an action! Our lands and our homes are under siege, and we moved all our troops to Sankta Varath! Our families are in danger!”
“Who ordered this?” a slater covered in gold and jewelry demanded.
“The King did, of course!” some Lady cried out angrily. “He—He made us come with all our men, all our food and weapons. He left the entire countryside open to attack!”
“King slayer!” yet another one yelled, reminding everyone that I was still here.
“Fuck the king slayer, I need to bring my men home!”
“My Lords!” Stein said in desperation. “Please! The First has already suffered many casualties! If you pull your troops out of the city, Sankta Varath falls!”
“Why should I care!”
A shoe suddenly hit Stein across his dumb face.
“It’s doomed either way!”
“My Lords!” Stein began again. “Please reconsider!”
The crossbow men from the First, most of which belonged to House Avarrian looked to each other in confusion.
“Men, pack our things! We’re going back to Sunstone to defend our families!” their lord said, removing any doubt as to what they’d have to do. The soldiers seemed more than pleased with the idea and filed out the throneroom in a hurry with their lord ahead of them.
“What have you done, Frank?” Stein said and I wished I had an answer.
“He killed our King!” Isaiah Quellburn, the captain of the Royal Guard barked.
He was a known swordsman that one, but it would do him little good against me.
“What—what’s going on?” another voice behind me stuttered.
Seldon had come to his senses and was looking at his king’s dead body. He looked up at me blinking his eyes rapidly.
“The King was a pilgrim singler. He is not of the Catan bloodline. You were all under his demi-god persuasion skill. Each and every one of you. He convinced you all to do as he wanted,” I said, hoping it would reach their brainwashed heads.
“Where is the true king?” Seldon asked.
“Probably long dead,” I replied.
“King slayer!” another noble barked.
I was getting tired of it already.
“Wait…how?”
Seldon was very much out of himself and so were all the others in the throneroom.
“I don’t fucking know. All I know is that this dead cunt here is a pilgrim.”
“He was holding the Kingdom together!” another noble yelled angrily at me.
“Shut up, Laywind! He’s the reason we’re in this mess!” the bejeweled slater said.
“He didn’t make the Quinta attack, he was a good king!”
“He was no king!” I roared. “You damn idiots were brainwashed the entire time. I just proved it! Open your damn eyes, you fucking pieces of shit!”
Seldon’s hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked over to him.
“Let me, Frank.”
I waved them off then lit a cigar, keeping my one eye on Blackmouth who was leaning against the wall with his hands crossed over his chest. That little gnome took a beating like nobody else and he still stood. No wonder he was one of the Three of Steel. Any other fighter in our city would have turned to fine dust from my punches.
“My Lords!” Seldon, the King’s Voice began. “What we’ve witnessed is a tremendous moment in the history of our city. If what the god slayer says is true—”
“King slayer!” a blond lordling yelled.
“The next one I hear say that word can join their king!” I snapped.
“Frank,” Seldon warned me in a soft tone. “Please.”
“Fine,” I said, puffing on my cigar. The little lordling shrunk behind the bench in front of him.
“If what he says is true then we must unite now more than ever! Not only do we have enemies at our gates but we have them inside our own ranks! Now is the time to work together—”
“If he’s no true king, then you’re no true king’s voice!” another high lord barked.
“If you pull your troops from the capital, Sankta Varath is lost and once the capital falls, what do you think will happen to your lands and castles? The Quinta won’t stop here!”
Silence fell on the throneroom, which was quickly filled with worried murmur. Finally, Lord Cerves spoke again.
“The city will fall either way. There’s a hundred thousand soldiers at our gates. What good will my 2,000 Rose Riders do against such a force? I say we bring our men home and you yield Sankta Varath. The Quinta Emperor will spare our lands.”
“Spare our lands? Are you mad!” Lord Havenfair snapped. “He’ll plunder and burn every inch of the Kingdom, this is where we stand and fight!”
“We are high lords!” the leader of House Irwood yelled and slammed his hand against a nearby bench. “He will spare us! He needs these lands ruled! We yield and offer tribute in form of a tax!”
“Hear, hear!” several other high lords cried.
“Has he spared the north!” Stein roared angrily. “They’ve rampaged through our lands scouring every inch of dirt, you idiots!”
I raised an eyebrow. Stein wasn’t one to speak the truth or to stand for…well, anything, yet now?
“Once the capital is gone so are your lands!”
“You’re one to speak, Stein!” Cerves said. “You’ve left the garrison at your fort manned and armed.”
“What? How do you know that?”
And just as my opinion of the man improved by an inch it dropped by a mile.
“My Lords, let’s not fall into anarchy. This is the capital of Steelheart! This is the throneroom of Sankta Varath!” Seldon desperately tried but many of the nobles were already moving out the high seat.
“Don’t do this! You’ll doom us all! Seldon cried as more than half the nobility stormed outside. By the time the clatter of feet stopped, there was only Seldon, Blackmouth, Stein and a score of Royal Guard together with some thirty Sankta Varath nobles left. And even those were only with us because they lived in the city and had nowhere else to run.
I stepped on the bud of my cigar, extinguishing the smoke and cleared my throat.
“Alright then, this was a shitshow, huh?” All eyes fell on me but none seemed too appreciative. “What was I supposed to do? Let him mindfuck you all? There was no other option, he didn’t want to admit it.”
Nobody spoke. The Royal Guard was looking at me angrily. Not that I cared, quite far from it, it annoyed the hell out of me.
“At least we can now unite with the orcs, right? They have almost ten thousand men. We’ll fill the defenses with the green bastards, and it’ll be fine.”
“Frank,” Seldon said, rubbing his forehead. “The city, it will fall. Before it was a possibility, now it is a certainty.”
“It’s not a certainty,” I said.
“Well, you’re an optimist, obviously.”
“He did what he had to do. Fuck them all. I’ll die defending Sankta Varath,” Stein said.
“We all will, I’m afraid,” Seldon said.
“Let me speak with Nergat. Nothing is yet lost. Once we man the walls with orcs and the soldiers at the barricades, there’s still a chance,” I said.
“Talk to Nergat, yes,” Seldon said absently. “Orcs, sure.”
“Alright then,” I said and stepped off the dais. I glanced at Blackmouth who offered me a slow and rather unflattering applause.
“I did what I had to, lap dog.”
“Sure you did. Well done.”
He mouthed a ‘fuck you’ and grinned, showing his black teeth.
“Oh, fuck this,” I said and made my way towards Stein and his men. I needed to go through them to reach the exit but no one wanted to move except for fat Stein himself.
“What?” I barked.
“We were sworn to protect the King, you’ve killed him,” the captain said.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. How many times did I have to say it?
“He. Wasn’t. Your. King,”
“We swore an oath, king slayer.”
“Let him through, Captain. There’s no point to this now.”
The captain didn’t move an inch, instead, he unsheathed his swords.
“Captain!” Stein snapped. “Orders!”
I simply used (Rift Walk) to teleport behind his men and made for the door. I wasn’t in the mood for spanking any more Royal Guard or their mouthy captains.
“I’ll be back with an army,” I said, hoping I was right. “Anyone stops me, they will die, too.”
The courtyard was even busier than when I walked into the palace. Horses pulled carts along as sergeants bellowed orders. This wasn’t preparation for war anymore, though, this was a mass exodus. But where? The city was under a damned siege.
“What the fuck have I done?” I muttered to myself.
I breathed out and looked to the skies above Sankta Varath. Two trails left by fiery projectiles slowly dissipated in the blue.
“King slayer!” some yelled.
“Who said that!” I snapped.
“King slayer!” another cried, then another.
Soon, half the people in the courtyard shouted my new title and booed me as they packed their things. A curious sight. That whole god slayer thing didn’t manage to stick for too long, after all. A shame. It had such a nice ring to it.