The Dao of Magic

119 - Contention

Bord is intensely happy. Truly happy indeed. Sitting on his mighty throne, he muses on the long and winding trail that got him where he is today. From his childhood as the son of a poor family to being chosen by a mighty noble. Then, the several years of being pampered by said mighty noble were pretty good. The only downside of that time of his life was the fact that he was being fattened like a pig for slaughter.

Bord does not like thinking about that, so he doesn't. His reflective mood vanishes like smoke in the wind as his wonderful subordinates bring him new food.

"Puwt it down dere..." Waving his fat sausage fingers to the side, Bord keeps shoving food in his mouth. Scratching his fourth chin, he rolls himself around on his throne so he can look at the newest pile of offerings. The wonderful new students that decided to give him food after he beat them up a bit brought more fruit. And some vegetables.

The few times they attempted to hunt the few birds in this place, well, they got their asses handed to them. One even attempted to hunt Teach's stupid rabbit. That went well. Bord's large stomach ripples as he chuckles to himself while glancing at the guy. The man with fluffy lion ears still has a rabbit foot imprint on his forehead.

"Hows de dagon faksion?"

"The dragon slaves have taken over the spinward moonrise side of the plateau, the cold beaches at Frost Mountain, oh lord. Their town is growing."

Bord nods in satisfaction. His troupe hold the centre, the rabbit lovers are near the volcano and the new dragon factions are somewhere near the cold mountain. All of Angeta's old worshippers have now defected to either his or Lola's faction. And then there are the braincores. Bord shivers and decides not to think about the braincores. Instead, he motions for his servants to bring him more food.

"Enough! He grows fat and weak. It is time for the era of me, Glorious Arnoldson Alan!"

Bord looks at the upstart through fat eyelids. The man looks to be a heartcore, so he should be able to take a beating. Bord knows that he now should take measure of the fellow. Then he should calculate the amount of force needed to subdue the muscular, blue tinted human without doing any lethal damage.

But Bord does not do any of this. Instead, he waves his hand at random. Triangular qi constructs flicker around his moving limb for a split second. The shockwave caused by the movement is channelled into a single direction, straight into the loud guy's face.

The sound that follows is a combination of a slap and a crunch. Glorious Arnoldson Alan careens backwards, his face obviously dented. The focused wind blast makes him do one and a half backflip and half a corkscrew. This allows him to smash face first into a tree. Drooling and bleeding from his broken face, Glorious Arnoldson Alan faints face first into the dirt.

"Go tawke care oh him..." The words are barely audible as they are squeezed through throat and cheeks that grow ever fatter. The surrounding people are used to his modus of speech by now and understand his orders.

Bord's sensitive ears hear rustling in the bushes, and he manages to catch a glimpse of someone sneaking away. Damn brain cores, Bord is getting tired of their constant stalking.

Instead of feeding the growing feeling of irritation, Bord continues eating. Ever since Teach taught him how to digest food with qi, he realized he found his calling. The fighting technique he received what feels like so long ago is based on spinning and momentum. The second technique he decided to learn was the one Selis learned first, based on heavy, brute and dumb movements. This was when he realized that he could control his weight.

More mass means more weight.

So Bord decided to become the world's strongest heartcore cultivator through sheer size. Bord thinks he is well underway in the completion of this goal. He scratches his fifth chin for a bit.