God Slaying Arrow

  Despite the name, this arrow probably won’t one shot a god. If they were that easy to kill they wouldn’t be gods now would they? That being said, it contains the power of a single strike from a diamond ranked, former adventurer. This is like a Masterball in a Pokemon game. You only get one, so don’t use it on a non-legendary.

  I’d never fired an arrow so thirsty for stamina before, firing it as a soul shot was the most intensive thing I’d ever felt. As I began channelling stamina into the arrow I felt it reach out, as if it had a will of its own, and drain me like a thirsty vampire drains a barely legal teenager in one of those popular movies that everybody loves and no one ever questions the validity of.

  Dark green aura drained from my fingertips, I could feel it being sucked through my veins, circulating my body and entering the arrow. With each passing millisecond of skill-slowed time I felt weaker and weaker and I watched as my stamina bar fell deeply into the red. Unable to take anymore, and still wanting to be able to stand afterwards, I unleashed the arrow which exploded from my bow with so much force that it flung me backwards, the air leaving my lungs as If I’d just been kicked by a horse.

  Crashing through Aethis clones with enough force to mist them, I felt my ribs shatter as I impacted the side of the arena, crumbling brick and mortar, my body a ballistic projectile in and of itself. My HP dropped to dangerously low levels, hitting the red zone and stopping on barely 20/1372. I struggled to move my legs, my eyes focusing and un-focusing as I desperately tried to watch the god’s seating area.

  Notifications lit up my HUD but I waved them away, they could wait for later. The crowd was silent, then the remaining army of Aethis’ vanished before my eyes.

  Holy shit did I just kill a god?

  Panda: Kid, that was insane!

  Lucas: Have you any idea what you’ve just done?

  Havier: *thumbs up emoji*

  My chat continued to fill with notifications but I waved them all away, pulling myself up with great effort and stepping out of my brick-filled tomb and back onto the sand. Everything was hazy and painful and I couldn’t take another healing potion until the hour-long cooldown was up.

  Through my dilapidated, blurred vision I saw armed shadows hopping over from the stands and landing in the sand.

  “Seize him!” I heard from somewhere high above.

  Muffled boots padding on soft sand moved my way, I summoned my daggers but one of them dropped out of my right hand the moment it exited my inventory. I couldn’t feel it, glancing down I saw that my shoulder was dislocated, hanging at an odd and low angle.

  Shit.

  I used my recall skill to assist me as I stored it back in my inventory and woozily raised my remaining dagger. A familiar clanging of metal armour and weaponry got louder as the shadows approached, dozens of them, glowing with an impressive chorus of coloured aura.

  “Surrender!” Someone shouted as the group encircled me and through the blurs I saw a group of heavily armed men and women all sporting red cloaks.

  Chrysus’ people.

  My dragon’s eye activated and I could tell that they were all gold rankers. In my condition I didn’t have a chance, yet I still couldn’t allow myself to be taken by them. Something in the back of my haze-addled mind told me that I couldn’t be captured by these people, for if I was, I would die. I didn’t know how I knew, but I knew.

  “Loki was cheating!” I yelled, my hoarse voice struggling to rise to a good enough volume. The audience couldn’t hear me, but I needed them on my side.

  Booing and shouting was coming from above me, cascading down the sides of the arena walls like a waterfall; insults and anger peppering me and drowning out my voice.

  “It is against the law to harm a god,” the same armed guard said. “Surrender now. Any resistance and I will execute you myself, heathen.”

  Raising my dagger, swaying and seeing double, I snarled: “come at me then, I just harmed a god. What chance do you think you have?”

  It was a bluff of course; I was about to pass out, barely able to hold myself up. But they didn’t know that. The guard took a cautionary step forward, a spear held out in front of him. He sniffed the air, his lycanid tail tucked under his thick, riveted armour.

  “You don’t scare me human,” he said, eyes set like a whet stone to an axe blade.

  “Do we?”

  With a thud, Sally and Rex landed in front of me in superhero poses, shaking the ground and kicking up dust. A large, black sword rested casually over Sally’s shoulder; a huge axe was held in Rex’s hands, resting against his upper thighs. When they stood up, they towered over the guards, a menacing presence and one I’d never been so glad to see.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Move aside!” The guard growled, “you stand with a heathen!”

  “We stand with our leader,” Rex snarled back. “I am Rex of the Crimson Fist, whelp. Have you heard that name before?”

  The guard nodded and Sally cast a terrifying glare in an arc across the other guards, many of whom shivered and took steps backwards.

  “Good,” Rex continued. “Then you know what will happen if you and your men don’t stand down.”

  Silence ensued as Rex and the guard locked eyes, neither one backing down or moving. It was tense, the audience above continued to boo, baying for blood. My blood. Rotten food and an assortment of other objects rained down from above, the encircling guards unsure whether to attack us or not. They were obviously scared, but they had orders. I was certain they worked for Chrysus – a god who obviously saw me as a threat now, knew he didn’t need me to achieve his goals.

  “Orders are orders, Red Fist,” the lycanid said in a gruff, challenging voice. “Besides, you might have a bit of a reputation but I can tell from your aura that I’m stronger than you.”

  “Pass me my knife Sally,” Rex said stoically. “This pup needs gelding.”

  Sally nodded, smiling as she surveyed the other guards with predatory eyes. A single fang drooped lazily over her bottom lip; its tip glinted in the sun.

  “LOKI IS ALIVE!”

  Words boomed out, flying across the arena and cutting through the voices in the crowd. Looking up, I saw Havier standing beside Diako. A body was slumped in a chair, my arrow lodged in its eye.

  Did I knock him out? No way!

  Diako and Nyx seemed to be arguing, their arms flying as gesticulation casted a puppet theatre shadow across the battlefield.

  “Loki cheated. Aethis isn’t real, she was one of his illusions,” Diako said, and now that the stadium had quietened, all listened to his heavily weighted words, each syllable as physical as a slap to the soul.

  “You’re just trying to defend the deplorable actions of your champion! No self-respecting god would cheat and you know it, we have no need!” Nyx replied. “It is a crime to strike a god.”

  “It is no crime if it was self-defence.”

  A shuddering wave of aura passed through me and I, and everyone else it seemed, looked up at Chrysus. His aura was angry.

  “This fight is postponed,” Chrysus announced from above. “Champion of Diako, you will retire to the box of Havier Regina whilst we hold council to determine the outcome of this match. Guards will escort and keep you there. Do not try anything.”

  ***

  “What happened,” Chrysus growled in a low, menacing hiss.

  He stood before Havier, Diako, Nyx, and Baccus on the high seating area which the gods used as a viewing platform. Loki was alive but injured. His body returned to his quarters to heal, unconscious. Gods healed quickly, so Havier had no worry for his health. It was, after all, his arrow which had caused such damage. He’d seen the whole thing and he knew the outcome. Loki would not die; he was merely weakened. That in itself was an impressive feat – how had Kaleb managed to put so much power into the arrow? Any normal silver ranker wouldn’t have even been able to fire it. Its use required a minimum soul strength of a level capper. In his vulnerable state, it would be easy to finish Loki off, but who here would dare strike a god?

  There was something else as well. Kaleb fired the arrow, but Loki was a god, he had plenty of time to dodge. He had been arguing with Diako, the god standing behind him, and as the arrow soared through the air, Diako planted his hands firmly on Loki’s shoulders, holding him in position for the split second it took for the arrow to hit its mark. Havier had seen it all.

  “Loki tricked us,” Diako said in a low, measured tone. “He never had a champion. Aethis was one of his illusions.”

  “Liar!” Nyx roared. “Loki is a god he has no need of tricks.”

  “He is the god of tricks,” Diako responded and Baccus nodded, hand resting thoughtfully on his cheek.

  “What about you?” Chrysus asked, turning to Havier. “Why are you here, why were you here? You are not yet one of us, no matter how close you might think you are to ascension.” His voice carried like smooth venom and it took everything Havier had to resist his overbearing aura as it washed over him, a tidal wave to a small beach hut.

  “This is my city,” Havier replied. “I came to see that justice was done. Had Kaleb killed a god then he would have had to die, as is the law. I had every intention of seeing to that if it were the case, but Loki is alive and he was cheating. It seems to me that he illegally entered this tournament, which has a starting level cap of 89, and faced off against Diako’s champion. If he is injured as a result then that is of his own doing, and frankly, it’s well deserved.”

  Bluffing had always been a strong suit for the emperor, though he wasn’t used to trying it on gods. In reality, he had suspected foul play from the start and when the army of Aethis clones surrounded Kaleb he knew that he needed to act. Diako had made it very clear that if Havier wanted his support when the ascension came, he needed to back his play… and win.

  “This is an outrage,” Nyx said. “Loki is a god. His actions, regardless of what they are, are not culpable to the laws of mere mortals. Even if he did enter an illusion into the tournament, that did not give Akabane the right to attack him. That mortal has already show contempt for our rule more than once, I say we execute him and be done with it. Give him to me, I’d be happy to take care of it.”

  Chrysus nodded, clearly thinking of how best to leverage the situation to his own advantage. That’s what Havier would have done if he had the opportunity. Diako had told him already that Chrysus was a cautious man. He’d been pursuing his own agenda from the start and when the tournament ended, he would strike. All they needed was a little bit more time.

  “Baccus, you’ve been awfully quiet,” Chrysus said, “that’s not very like you.”

  “You’re already acting like you’re in charge here,” Baccus said, his voice like ice. “We are all equal in this pantheon. This may be your tournament, but as gods we have no superiors. I say you put this farce to a vote and be done with it.”

  “We are equal,” Chrysus said. “For now… but yes, let’s vote. Those who wish to have the mortal executed raise your hands.”

  Nyx’s hand went straight in the air but Chrysus hesitated.

  “I see you’ve forced my hand,” he said, looking between Baccus and Diako. “If I raise my own hand then we will tie, leaving Loki as the deciding vote. However, that will mean postponing tournament until he is healed.”

  “Gods heal fast,” Nyx said. “I say we wait.”

  “No.” Chrysus glanced at his ally, then sighed. “I will not postpone the final. This result will stand. Aethis is disqualified, but… if Loki dies, then your champion will face the consequences. There is no greater crime than the slaying of a god.” He glared at Diako, smiling cruelly. “Even if Loki lives, Kaleb will die soon anyway, my champion will see to that. We will break tomorrow and the finals will be held the morning after.”

  “A better death than he deserves… heathen,” Nyx spat on the floor as the meeting ended.