Chapter 16
Felix Goes War God
The shutters before Felix's gaze razored his sight. In the warm darkness he crouched. Ready to spring out of the cramped stone room three floors above the narrow cobble streets. The smell of brandy, cookies, and fear so thick he tasted it.
Let it fire up his blood.
The shrieks and snarls from the beasts below overwhelm the screams of the tormented dying. The clanks of solid black armor on those huge ratlings towering as high as the tall lampposts, if not several feet higher, were loud enough to crack the walls. Their huge swords and axes as big as an ordinary man. Carved wicked to bleed fear into their prey before bleeding life out of them.
With the full moon beaming, plenty of spidora bugs chattered on the rooftops, lycan swarming among their giant ratling brethren – the stink of rat, beast, and bug rise together in a gut-wrenching stench.
Yet it didn't disturb the lingering joy of the chicken broth and chopped noodles Grunts had served Felix.
None of those monsters deterred the Champion from the obvious route to attract the very vandread he now hunted. The two of the largest rats – each nearly a full nine feet high. Their black armor the thickest, spikiest, and with the largest axes each with twisted skulls for their double blades.
Yet none had bothered to raid the many buildings crowding the darklings together. Despite the streets barely fit the whole horde. As if the whole lot hadn't noticed the buildings. That plenty of humans hid quietly inside them. Praying silently that someone, anyone would save them from inevitable horrible death at the hands of these beasts.
All except this building.
Where only Felix stood on the third floor. Crouched.
Waiting for the right moment to strike.
His blade sheathed.
At the moment.
The two largest ratlings, shouting loudest in a harsh gibberish tongue. Clearly giving orders to the rest. Each with five hulking wolf lycan to guard them Plus, three giant ratling guards to each of the two largest ratlings – clearly two generals. Each ratling guard a foot shorter than the generals. Each armed with a matching broadsword or double axe.
When two of the ratlings guards positioned themselves right below Felix. Broadswords out and ready.
Felix flicked the shutters' lock open.
Hand flexed.
Breath quietly inhaled.
The two giant ratling general screamed their orders louder. Shook their massive fists high the air.
Then both turned away. Toward the darkling hordes if lycan, spidora, and ratlings roaring in the streets.
And Felix leapt out of the window.
Boots landing full force on the guards' heads. Down onto the armor.
Crushing them to the ground.
Killing them before they could scream.
Only letting his knees bend enough to ease his fall.
Grab their flying broadswords.
The wolf guards all turned. Howled. Charged.
And died.
Broadswords slicing them apart.
But another pair of the ratling guards leapt in front of their generals. Even if the rest of the darkling horde had frozen. Silent. Shocked at the mere human who dared strike at the very heart of their invasion.
An invasion that finally was cramped inside these narrow stone walls.
Where their numbers meant less.
Felix lunged at the ratling guards. The rats snarling. But their beady eyes wary of a human that could wield their huge weapons against them. The small distant in these streets an obvious disadvantage to them now.
Yet they raising their own axes. Ready to crush him. Their strength would certainly overwhelm him.
Or they definitely thought so.
But midway, Felix flung the broadswords right at them.
Both spun then smashed into their chests. Denting, then cutting into their armor. Knocking the two down, dead.
The two nine-foot generals charged at Felix. Axes raised high and fierce.
For no ratling worth more than a pack of bandits could take such a challenge to their authority without facing it down themselves.
Together the ratling general attacked like a whirlwind of black blades. Their axes hacking and slicing. The clanks of their boots against the cobble as sharp as their blades. No other darkling dare interfere. Dare try to show up their own generals.
The taste of blood and gore thick in the air.
Yet Felix merely dodged.
Not drawing his saber.
Not yet.
When the last two ratling guards struck from behind Felix. Their duty demanding it.
But their ratty stink, the screech of their armor, the whirl of their axes – it all gave them away.
And Felix drew his saber.
Ducked under the general’s swings. Axes swooshing.
He slashed through their armor.
Through their chests.
Then their legs.
Their axes breezing past.
Till he slammed those blades with his free hand. Smashing them the heads of the ratling guards.
The ratling generals and their guards soon all crumbled dead. The silence as heavy as the black armor of every ratling here. The darkling horde stinking of the bitter fear they intended to raise out of their prey.
But Felix snatched one of the general's axes.
Flung it full force through the air above.
Slicing through several spidora leaping toward him. Cutting down the darklings who tried to ambush him from above.
Their vile purple blood spilling everywhere. Stinking up the air enough to sting Felix's eyes and nose.
Yet Felix merely turned toward the darklings hordes. Pointed his saber at them.
And said, “Who's next?”
They all howled.
Then all lunged to end him.
But Felix Stormbringer wouldn't fall here.
Because darkling blood would soon wash away all the human blood in Cheramin.