100 Julius Caesar (2/2)

It missed Darah's head by a hair's breadth, streaked past her, and would have struck the masked rider's swifthart if she hadn't swatted it away with her katana.

Yes, I missed, but it wasn't so bad that I did. Partly because I would have felt bad if I'd killed that swifthart. Partly because my roguish maneuver was enough to slow the masked rider down long enough for Darah to turn in her direction, and with a killing intent that would have made me whimper like a baby, swing her still flaming golden sword at her would-be-assassin.

Darah's single swing cut off the head of the swifthart I'd almost killed, wasting the relief I'd felt for it.

Her second fiery swing was meant for the masked rider's falling form, but the dark elf had launched herself up in the last second, jumping like a gymnast and rolling in the air until she landed feet first beside Darah. Stupid choice.

Darah was too quick and the masked rider had barely turned to face her when she felt the iron fist hit her right in the solar plexus, launching her off her feet, just in time for a downward swing of Darah's sword pommel to send slamming back into the ground.

Luca, who had reached my side, was whistling now. ”She kind of pulled off a sweet Tekken-like combo there.”

The super geek in me really, really wanted to tell Luca that Tekken actually meant Iron Fist in English which was ironic considering Darah's monicker. Sadly, I wasn't able to indulge my inner geek because that's when we heard the scream of pain come out of Great General Spellweaver's lips.

”Seriously?!” My brow furrowed to its extreme. ”What the F—”

”—Dean, why'd he do that?” Luca interrupted my almost-use of a swear word.

Believe me, if you had seen what I just saw your mind would have been blown away too.

The shadowblade tip of a knight's sword was sticking out of Spellweaver's chest similar to how those baby aliens from that really old movie, Aliens, burst out of people's chests in that really gross way. Even more bizarre, the hand holding onto the sword that had just pierced the great general's chest belonged to his son.

Ardeen Spellweaver had gotten off his swifthart and pierced his dad from the back like in that game about assassins in white coats while he was distracted with Darah's attack.

When he turned his head to face his son, I half-expected him to scream, ”e'tu brute?” which was this famous line from Shakespeare's play which Julius Caesar said when he was stabbed by his friend Brutus. But blood gushed out of Spellweaver's mouth, making him choke on whatever it is he wanted to tell his son. So, like the great parent he was, he opted to reach for his son's neck with his free hand instead and tried to choke the life out of Ardeen.

Geez, small wonder he was just betrayed by his own flesh and blood.

”Forgive me, father,” Ardeen Spellweaver said as he attempted to pull his father's grasping fingers away from his neck. ”But it is time for you to retire and for me to finally be free of you!”

”A-ar-de~~en!” Spellweaver must have reached into himself and called out whatever gas he had left in the tank. For with the hand he used to choke his son, he lifted Ardeen Spellweaver off the ground and held him there with a vice-like grip that might have done lots of damage if the Masked Rider hadn't gotten up and stabbed him again in the back with her Katana.

Spellweaver let go of his son and stumbled to the ground on one knee. Dark blood poured out of his wounds and soiled the earth underneath him.

My first thought was, How the hell was she back up after getting creamed by Darah just now? This was immediately followed by, Did these bastards just pull off a coup d'état in the middle of this huge battle?

A hand grasped my leg, and I looked down and found Darah looking up at me.

Darah tossed me my falchion. ”Focus, Dean!”

”Ye-yes, ma'am,” I answered almost by instinct.

”I want you to figure a way out of this mess so we can regroup with Roger,” she commanded.

My brain must still be on loading. I didn't understand what she meant.

But then I heard the angry roar of the crowd surrounding us, and I turned my gaze at the hundred of Magesong soldiers who had just unfrozen after seeing their master murdered. And now they were charging at us with their hands raised even though we had nothing to do with this betrayal.

”Oh, shit,” I sighed. ”Here we go again.”