Chapter 9: Ragtag Rabble

"Young and arrogant, are you? Then I will grant your wish!" With that, Sean kicked off, wind whipping around his boots as he lunged. The Ice Sword in his grip breathed cold; raindrops that hit its blade instantly froze. In a heartbeat, the two-foot sword thickened and lengthened, turning into a massive greatsword that came crashing down toward Taylor's skull. Boom! Thunder cracked open the sky. Taylor's gaze sharpened. Lightning flared into his palm with a flick of his hand. He swept his arm. The bolt shrieked, a piercing crackle that hit the descending blade with crushing force, head-on. Crack! The Ice Sword snapped in two under the lightning's bite. Taylor caught the broken shard as it spun, shifted his grip, and gave a quick backhanded push. A jag of pain tore through Sean's chest. He looked down to see a length of the shattered Ice Sword buried in his heart. Blood gushed like a waterfall. "You..." Sean's eyes went wide, disbelief written across his face as he stared at Taylor. Swoosh! Before he could finish, Taylor's arm whipped across. He ripped the broken blade sideways from Sean's heart, slicing him clean in two, his upper half spinning away and hurtling toward the Wokey family's ranks. The rain came harder. Blood sprayed in jets, the downpour couldn't wash away fast enough. Ten thousand soldiers stared and recoiled in terror. The rolling mass of men stumbled back more than forty feet. The ground before them ran red, a broad, rushing river of blood. Magnus's number one enforcer, the Swordmaster Sean, lay dead. "What!" Roland shouted, his face went blank with shock. Sean had been Magnus's foremost blade, a man who had reached the Perfection of Inner Strength. And Taylor had cut him in half with a single strike? A man in a wheelchair, and this strong? Was he even human? Taylor rolled forward in his chair, unhurried, his face flat as slate. Roland's color drained; he scrambled backward, shaking. "Go! Kill him!" At his barked order, the ten-thousand-strong host behind him pressed in toward Taylor. Boots slammed down as one. The earth trembled. Roland broke into a manic grin. "You brat, you fight well, do you? I want to see you break ten thousand men!" "Kill!" "Kill!" "Kill!" The roar built in waves until the very sky seemed to shake. The massed troops bore down. Taylor stood still at the border of Nettle, a statue in the rain. Water poured from the rim of his umbrella, and nothing in the storm could blur the iron set of his features. "The Wokey family colluded with foreign powers and got the Dragon Legion wiped out. You deserve to die." Roland blinked, then barked a laugh. "Hahaha! Little bastard, you must be crazy. The one dying today is you!" "Is that so?" A clear, fierce voice cut across the rain. Engines thundered. The ground shook anew. Heads turned as one. Shock rippled through the ranks. A column of several thousand surged toward Nettle, armored carriers snarling. On the lead vehicle stood a woman in battle dress, as poised as a drawn bow, her beauty honed by steel. Valia's First Army. The Feather Legion's God of War. Erin Nesom. Her eyes went wide, her commanding presence unmistakable even through the downpour. "Roland, the filth your family has done is enough to kill you ten times over. You think yourself fit to command Valia's soldiers?" "Th-that… God of War Nesom?" They had never met, but a figure of her stature had a face no one could mistake. Roland hurried forward a few steps, snapped a formal salute. "I am Roland Wokey of Nettle. I welcome your arrival." "General Nesom, this man slaughtered my Wokey kin. I am killing him in vengeance. What is wrong with that? As for the dirty dealings you claim my family has done… I truly do not understand." He understood all too well. Collusion with foreign powers would doom him if admitted. He chose to deny until the end. "Do not understand?" Erin's brows knitted. "I don't need you to understand. I'll bring the evidence when I'm ready. Today, if you so much as touch Taylor, you will die." "You... This is surely not a mission of the Feather Legion. Are you not afraid the Central Command will punish you?" Roland ground his teeth. Taylor had exterminated his house. He had to have blood today, even if a god of war stood in his way. Erin's voice went cold. "Taylor is my fiancé. Touch him, and even if I must take off this uniform, I will not flinch." "Then let's see how strong the Feather Legion really is!" Roland's eyes bulged. He had thrown the dice. "I command over ten thousand regulars. You have only a few thousand. Your odds do not look good." Erin's lip curled. "This rabble isn't worthy of being called regulars in front of the Feather Legion. Prepare for battle." Her deputies, a dozen in all, lifted rifles in unison and aimed at Roland's line. The rest of her soldiers slid into firing positions, the crewmen already sighting along cannon barrels. Bang! A single shot cracked. A soldier in Roland's ranks who had begun to raise his weapon pitched backward, dead before he hit the mud. "Move again, and you die." Erin's voice rang, sharp and unhesitating. The ten thousand behind Roland sagged as one, their momentum punched out of them. If picking up a gun meant death, who would dare move? Besides, the Feather Legion's armored vehicles and artillery sat there in plain sight.  Roland froze, stunned. Ten thousand men, and they were buckling before the fight had even begun. Beaten before battle. In that instant, he seemed to grasp, for the first time, the gulf between his troops and Valia's elite. Erin ignored the downpour, dropped from the vehicle, and strode to Taylor. "Taylor, I leave the rest to you." Taylor nodded and rolled toward Roland, his eyes as chill as if they gazed on a dead man. "Talk. What was said on that call?" Roland did not flinch. He laughed. "Want to know? Then find out yourself. If you have the guts, kill me." Smack! Taylor's palm whipped out. Roland's head tore free. Blood fountained despite the downpour, and the rain washed the red into the mire. "The ungrateful don't deserve to be left in one piece." Erin watched him, worry flickering across her features. "Taylor, the Wokeys wronged the Jauncys. Roland Wokey is dead. That is justice." Taylor inclined his head. "He died as he should. But the Dragon Legion's destruction wasn't something the Wokeys could pull off by themselves. He clamped his jaws shut. The hand behind him may be far beyond what either of us imagined." "Don't worry. I'll have the Feather Legion keep digging," Erin said. Taylor smiled and nodded. "Kid, you brought a few thousand troops for me. Will you be in trouble?" "I told you already. For you, I can take off this uniform. Still, I need to get back at once, or I really will be under investigation." She clasped his arm, then turned away. After saying farewell to Taylor, she ordered her officers to fold Roland's forces into her ranks, then set off at speed for headquarters. Taylor lifted Roland's head by the hair and walked away. He would use it to intimidate every family and faction in Nettle and let them know who the king of Nettle was. His phone began to ring. "Taylor, please come back. A lot of people showed up. They grabbed Kayden. I'm scared..." "What? Jacqueline, don't be afraid. I'm coming back now." Taylor's eyes went blood-red. He pushed himself up from the wheelchair in one motion. They were courting death.