A Story Less told (The Legend of Greg) Book 1 of 2

Chapter 8: To Kill a King

Greg reached out to grab the sword and caught it, giving it a spin with his injured arm.

"You know, technically, you should let me heal up befo-" he started as she jammed the end of the sword in his leg.

"And you should pay attention and fight, instead of trying to stall." she grinned.

"Stalling is one of my best moves." he said swinging just over her head as she ducked. "Damn you are fast." he sighed.

The Ash battlefield clashed with armor and sword and axes glancing off one another. Sprays of fresh blood misted red into the foggy air as blade met meat in every direction. Elora rushed into the fight, clicking the final piece of armor into place. Her armor suddenly faded in color and everything covered in the strange metal became invisible, as well as the armor itself, leaving just the confusing strips and bits of cloth and flesh that were not completely covered. It would have been perfectly hidden if it had been designed for someone of her thickness.

Moose swung his axe and knocked over a few men in black armor. Elora hunkered down, sliding her sword in the dirt as low as possible to surprise one of the black knights with a suddenly elevating sword, connected to seemingly nothing and finding the gap in his breastplate. The sluggish and unwieldy sword danced between the fighting men, delivering heavy blows to their knees and abdomen as it glided between confused men of both sides. A rather impressively adorned man in silver and black armor, wearing the crest of the dragon, lowered his visor, and drew a claymore from his horse as he dismounted. He smiled, safely lingering behind his men. William spotted the godlike armor and rode through the crowd, mowing down anything in his path to get to him. Lord Theyren spotted the gilded knight approaching and recognized the metal that was trailing behind him, impressed at the craftsmanship. He made a pass at Theyren and was dodged with little effort. William jumped from the horse and shouldered the blade.

"Impressive toy you have, did you make it yourself?" he asked, drawing his own blade in the air.

"It was a gift." William grinned with confidence.

"I see, and then what do I have to fear from you?" Theyren asked, swinging his claymore and meeting the strange metal on guard. The rush of air moved them both as the dragon swooped in and made a fire-breathing pass just behind them, lighting the landscape behind the two duelists and creating a wall of screams as the men of ash reduced to the very ash they proudly called.

"Dragon!" warned the religious knight, taking cover as it dove low and landed, grabbing a horseman and throwing him into the air. It bit the soldier nearly in half as it took flight again.

"Forget the dragon, kill the dragon's master and you tame the beast!" hollered another armed soldier. Elora heard the idea and realized she could get in close without detection. She made a dash for the gaps and headed at the dueling king's location.

Greg made a power-strike, missing his mark and severing a small tree where Athena was when he aimed. She slid in the grass and raked her blade across his ribs. Greg ignored the scratch and reared back for another power-strike. She took the bait and ducked, running right into his iron boot, sending her into the foliage. She was fast, faster than Greg was, but she seemed to be lacking a touch in sheer power, so he needed to get his aim under control. He could take more abuse, and all he needed was one good strike to end the fight, which made him a bit hesitant to do so. He was having a good bit of fun.

She leapt from the woods and her sword clanked off his, giving him a chance to trip her and failing. She went in for a neck-shot and he decided to play dirty. He reached out and lined his palm up, grabbing the blade and clamping it between the bones of his hands where she couldn't cut through.