The Overlord Saga
Vol II. Versus
Chapter 22: Actions and Consequences
The walls of Fort Effort were crumbling in, burning as the Insurgents fought their way through into the Fort. Centurion Ifill had engaged Norris in combat and had locked blades with the young apprentice. As she slammed a foot into his chest and pinned him down, she glared down at him, rapier held at his throat, “Okay, you little blonde punk, I’m going to cut you up so bad if you don’t tell me where the Insurgent Leader is.” As he feebly pointed inside Fort Effort’s main building, Centurion Ifill whistled, a horse galloped over, passing through the mayhem with relative ease. Swinging her leg over the horse’s back, Centurion Ifill reared up, rapier in hand.
“Twin! He’s inside!” she yelled, running her free hand down the horse’s neck, “Easy Pat. We’ll be outta here soon.”
“The Ninja-Lord must’ve followed him inside! We lost her when that stupid Insurgent brat attacked us!” Shinobi glanced at the Twin, “She better be okay...!”
“She’ll be fine. She always is. I hope,” Llama said frantically.
“Only one way to find out!” the Witch jumped from the wall, into the chaos below. Sending a wave of swirling flame out at the Insurgents, she grinned, then made a dash for the doors, her sleek black dress flowing behind her. Jamie jumped from the wall as well, tossing a dagger into a nearby archer that had gotten the bad idea of trying to shoot her. As Jamie dashed up the stairs after the Witch, she swiped an Insurgent in the kneecap, quickly dispatching him before continuing. The Twin shot the doors open for them, having implanted explosives on a few of her arrows.
Jamie ran through the doors alongside the Witch, cutlass swiping through any Insurgent she could reach (which was admittingly a lot, in comparison with her short stature). She hit the next hall seconds after the Witch, flying right past Batman as she did so. The Twin shot a few arrows down the hall at two Insurgent guards that were standing in front of the main hall’s doors. As the arrows thudded into the guards, the Witch flung the doors open, her eyes narrowed as she saw the Insurgent Leader standing alone in the room. Gazing up at a particularly large hole in Fort Effort’s ceiling, he didn’t turn to face the others as they ran inside. Instead, he rested his hand on the hilt of Muramasa, waiting for them to begin prattling on about how he was an awful person.
“Where’s the Ninja-Lord!?” the Witch demanded.
“Where do you think?” the Insurgent Leader turned to face the Witch, Muramasa in hand.
“Oh my God!” Jamie yelled, pointing at the severed arm laying in the middle of the floor, stained with blood.
“What the hell did you do to her?” the Witch shouted in anger, summoning a sphere of fire in her hand.
“My God...” the Twin gasped, staring at the arm with horrified brown eyes, “Ninja-Lord...” She whispered eyes flooded with tears. Kunoichi grabbed the Twin as she fell to her knees, sobbing openly. The Insurgent Leader scoffed, then turned away, lifting his hand to the sky. Black mist returned to the floor, sweeping through from the sky and spreading across the tile.
“We need to go...” Jamie stammered, pulling on the Witch’s arm, “Leave him, don’t you see we have to go!”
“No...” the Witch gritted her teeth.
“This place is swarming with Insurgents. We have to fall back!” Jamie yelled, “You’ll get yourself KILLED!”
“... Fine!” the Witch acquiesced, albeit reluctantly. As she turned to flee, the Insurgent Leader began laughing, insanity filling his voice. Kunoichi dragged the Twin away, meeting Centurion Ifill in the hall.
“Where is she?” Centurion Ifill demanded, rapier a light maroon to the hilt. She caught a glance of her sister’s tearful face, then pulled her onto the horse with her, stunned silent.
“Get the others. Fish!” Jamie yelled, glancing over at where Fish had restrained both Tinkerbell and Agent. He perked up, looking at Jamie quizzically before releasing the two Insurgents. Falling to the ground, Agent picked up his sword, then made a charge for Fish as he turned away. Fish whirled around, grabbing Agent by the throat. A set of claws burst forth from Fish’s fingers, clutching Agent’s neck as he lifted him into the air slowly. Tossing Agent into the recovering Tinkerbell, Fish turned away once more, looking at the newfound claws rather oddly.
“That’s... new,” Centurion Ifill remarked.
“Get us out of here, Witch,” Shinobi said through clenched teeth, grabbing onto the crying Llama’s arm. “Now! The troops can’t handle much more!”
The Witch nodded and lifted her arm, releasing a blinding flash of light into the air. The Twin let out a cry of anguish, face buried into Kunoichi’s shoulder, “Ninja-Lord!”
---
Eric awoke rather suddenly, clutching his chest as he did so. He tried to move his legs but found that they were quite sore- perhaps from the jolt he’d been given before losing consciousness. He painfully turned his head, glancing at a set of furry paws before looking up at the face of his ‘guard’. Nard sat, staring at him oddly with his tongue sticking out. The Soul Jar hung around his neck, glowing vibrantly with an abundance of souls.
Silently, Eric reached for the jar, but gasped in pain as his elbow popped. Nard trotted away, leaving Eric alone in the tent. A few moments later, a group of people entered the tent, the first one being the Overlord, followed by the Evocator, the Advisor, a sobbing Twin, and the Soul-Keeper. He noted their grim expressions and began to wonder if he had awoken at the wrong time. Pushing himself up into a sitting position and cringing at the pain, he blinked a few times, watching as the Evocator quietly comforted the Twin.
The Overlord shot Eric a look, her eyes devoid of the usual spark of sarcasm and spirit they usually carried. Instead, they were replaced with something else. Hints of tears? Maybe, but he didn’t ask. She tore her gaze away from him, looking frustrated, dismayed, but above all, just angry. The Advisor looked down at the ground, twiddling her thumbs in an uncomfortable silence. The Soul-Keeper stared out the tent door, dazed as he did so.
“... What happened?” he asked, a few moments of pure quiet passing by.
“Ninja-Lord’s dead,” the Overlord said in quiet, slurred speech, a clear indicator that she, too, was on the verge of tears. “She took on the Insurgent Leader by herself.” That was all she could muster for a few moments, allowing a tear to roll down her cheek before whirling upon the General of the Insurgents. “Do you see now what you’ve done.” Another one of those non-questions. Eric cringed. “She’s dead.” Another pause. “Like the Theurgist.” He didn’t know what to say. “Did you ever think about how your actions affected people.” A second non-question. He could tell that she was pissed. “I guess you just thought of yourself. What did he promise you?”
“... He said I could be free...”
“You had me fooled. Had us all fooled. You and Tinkerbell. And now there’s people dead. You disgust me.”
“I wanted my soul back. I wanted to be free. I didn’t know all of this would happen. He just... He just said he would free us all and we could go back to our old lives. We just had to give you to him...” Eric stammered, completely taken aback.
“Tell that to the people who had loved ones that died,” the Evocator whispered venomously, tears in her eyes, “Do you know what some of us lost when you ‘just wanted your stupid freedom’? Didn’t you ever think that you had all the freedom in the world? You didn’t have a bad life, you stupid little brat, you just whined your damn ass off the entire time.”
“You ENSLAVED me!” Eric shot back angrily, “I wanted that chance to be who I used to be.”
“Alexi’s dead because of you,” the Evocator broke out into tears, “He’s dead. I loved him. And you took that away.” Eric sat there, staring at her in shock- numbed and unable to comprehend what was happening. The Evocator continued, “So are you satisfied with your little freedom? Are you satisfied that you’re free to do whatever you’d like? Because lives were paid for that freedom, you little ignorant snob. Lives that you didn’t control. Didn’t have a DAMN right to decide what should happen to them!” The Overlord glanced at where the Theurgist had entered the tent quietly just moments ago. Quietly, the Theurgist reached over and put an arm around the Evocator, fighting back wispy tears.
“I...” Eric faltered.
“You betrayed us, Sexist. You turned your back on all of us. You know... For a time, I thought I could trust you. After what happened with the Uberlord. The Room of the Wises. You saved my life, just to what? Try to get me killed later?” the Overlord said quietly, standing up. “Alexi’s dead. Kylee’s dead. Their lives could have been spared if you had kept your end of our contract. You work for me, I work for you- it’s how it’s always been.” The Overlord pulled a katana from its sheath, running her fingers over the markings on its blade, “I ought to kill you. Might not bring them back, but it’ll make me feel better.”
“No!” Sexist stammered, holding up his hands and realizing that he hadn’t been handcuffed the entire time.
“No, I didn’t handcuff you. Where could you run?” the Overlord halfway laughed now, sounding slightly psychotic as she turned to face him, “Fortunately, I am a very considering individual. I know who will pay the ultimate price for the Ninja-Lord and the Theurgist dying. It will be the Nemesis.” She stuck the blade into the dirt, then glared at Sexist, green eyes fighting to stay interlocked with his blue eyes. It was still so hard- she saw the Nemesis in there so many times, “Your life was spared by me when we fought in the forest earlier today. Take that as how much you owe me. You owe everything. Your life. So you will follow me. I have your soul handy, and I will use it to coerce you into obeying me.”
Sexist nodded dumbly, rubbing his head.
“The Nemesis placed a Curse on you, didn’t he?” the Overlord asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“I don’t remember much these past few days,” Sexist admitted.
“He’s bestowed ice powers on you. Meaning you hold a fraction of his power. Meaning he was implementing his own will upon you, which is nothing more than a sucky way of trying to mind control you. Which means that since I have your soul, he can’t do that any longer. This also means that if you were to re-obtain your soul, you’d be re-bound to whatever Curse he inflicted on you, which means your life boils down to two options, Sexist, so listen carefully,” the Overlord held out one hand, “Eternal servitude to me. Or...” She held out the other hand, “Eternal servitude to the Nemesis, who apparently can brainwash you. Take your pick.”
“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Sexist smiled wryly.
“I have your soul and I don’t plan on giving it back, so, no, you really don’t,” the Overlord shrugged, careless. “So, welcome back, Underling Sexist.”
“What IS a Curse anyways?” the Advisor asked quietly.
“It’s an ancient art. Forbidden stuff. You essentially give the target two options- a painful death or they have to complete whatever mission they’re given. Upon giving the Curse, the Curser, it is said, gives them an unbendable desire to fulfill their mission. This desire is outrageous, usually takes a toll on the physical form, and leads to quite a few frenzies. I wouldn’t imagine you’ve been getting a lot of sleep, have you?” the Overlord asked, and when Sexist shook his head, the Overlord shrugged again, “There’s also some rumor that part of the Curser’s soul- some sliver of it- enters the Cursed to fuel their desire to accomplish their goal. But it’s only a rumor.”
“So I see...” the Advisor nodded, “Well, as long as he’s willing to cooperate, I guess everyone is willing to have him. He and McCoy will be valuable assets to the army.”
“What about Blondie?” the Soul-Keeper asked absent-mindedly.
“I’ll interrogate him later,” the Overlord began towards the tent door, looking down at Sexist on her way out. She couldn’t shake the way he looked at her, the eyes piercing into her mind. Glancing away, she departed from the tent, exhaling softly. “Did I do the right thing?”
“Time will only tell,” the Theurgist echoed quietly.
---
The Ninja-Lord was not dead, despite popular belief. When the blade had come down, she had lost consciousness, but the blade had not even touched her. She was unaware of how she’d gotten to the caverns, but they were there and she was not alone. Though it had taken a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the pitch black, the Ninja-Lord had grown accustomed to the lack of light. She was laying on a bed, her right arm completely gone almost to the shoulder. The shock had worn off eventually, as had the will to move her now very gone arm.
The person that had saved her was a strange individual indeed. Hooded and rather short, she scurried around the caves with surprising speed. All that the Ninja-Lord had gathered about the woman was that her name was Maverick- sometimes with a ‘the’ or sometimes without. The Ninja-Lord was fairly certain that she was crazy. Actually, there was little doubt that Maverick was crazy. It was pretty much established.
“Where are we?” the Ninja-Lord persisted, watching Maverick as she walked around the bed, sprinkling what looked like some illegal drug on the ground. As the Ninja-Lord sat up, Maverick pushed her back down with one hand, muttering stuff under her breath.
“Do not speak. Must pray,” Maverick hissed, “Arm almost done. Sleep more, little ninja.”
“I... I’m kinda weirded out by this whole thing, not gonna lie,” the Ninja-Lord remarked, but lay back down against the soft bed, closing her eyes. The weird white stuff was letting off some weird, mesmerizing aroma. She breathed in deeply, tired to the point that she couldn’t really care if the Maverick was dancing a jig around her.
“One of the Overlord’s underlings,” Maverick muttered to herself, “Always in trouble, that Overlord. Always fighting. Never stops to smell the roses. Roses smell good. I like red roses. They remind me of love. Ahhh... Love...” She sighed, then scolded the Ninja-Lord as she giggled at the Maverick’s nonsense, “Soul-less one should be sleeping!”
“Soul-less one wants to know why you’re drugging her,” the Ninja-Lord remarked sleepily.
“Soul-less one doesn’t want to be awake for what Maverick has in mind,” the Maverick chided her.
“That’s... not comforting at all,” the Ninja-Lord mumbled.
“Soul-less one wants arm back? Soul-less one gets arm back. Only if Soul-less one is nice and gives Maverick nice red rose,” Maverick waved a hand over the Ninja-Lord’s head as the Ninja-Lord began dozing off, giggling gleefully. “Soul-less one is going to love new arm. Soul-less one is going to get Maverick roses.”
---
The Nemesis had arrived at Fort Effort within an hour of the Underling army’s retreat. Stepping lightly over the dead bodies and gruesome appendages laying scattered about, he cleared his throat upon entering the Insurgent Leader’s new chambers, which had formerly been the Twin’s. Upon entering, the Nemesis took a gander at how the Insurgent Leader was remodeling the formerly neon room, ordering a few painters to remove the bright colors and paint the walls black.
“You appear to be busy,” the Nemesis whispered softly, “It seems as though you’ve been quite... Fruitful in your plunderings. Almost forgetful of the Brotherhood and the bonds we all share.”
A painter dropped his bucket at the sight of the Nemesis, glancing out the window to spy the Jabberwocky flying about Fort Effort, waiting for its master to return. “I won this fort fair and square, after all. What have the others done to show for their work? No Overlord, no prisoners, just failure every time,” the Insurgent Leader turned to face the Nemesis.
“That is true,” the Nemesis inclined his head in agreement, inspecting a rather large wardrobe on the far side of the room, “Peculiar thing, this is. Haven’t seen one of these in ages.”
“It’s a wardrobe,” the Insurgent Leader scoffed, then continued, “You have your Fortress. This can be mine. The others can have their own forts when they conquer them. I’m not letting them stay here. This fort was taken for the Insurgents by the Insurgents.” He placed Muramasa and its sheath on the bed, then folded his arms, silently noting to change the bed sheets to something less girlie. Perhaps even a new bed entirely was a good idea. ‘To Bed, Bath, and Beyond after this,’ the Insurgent Leader thought, then silently remarked, ‘What’s in the Beyond section, I wonder...?’
“It seems like you need a bit of soul-searching, Thomas. You’ve lost yourself entirely in this quest for power, and it saddens me,” the Nemesis murmured, but loud enough so that the Insurgent Leader could hear him, “You killed the Ninja-Lord? That’s just low even for you. I’m proud.” Grabbing the Insurgent Leader by the arm, the Nemesis forced the wardrobe open, “But I’ll teach you a lesson in humility. Flaunting your powers like that? Did you think I hadn’t guessed your scheme to overthrow me?”
The Insurgent Leader stared at the Nemesis, eyes wide in shock, “O-overthrow...?”
“Your new darkness powers, I must admit, I thought were hereditary. But when I realized you endeavored to one day overthrow the very Brotherhood you helped forged? I was hurt, Thomas. So very hurt. Perhaps this will show you why I cannot be stopped. Why your place is and forever will be at my feet- as the dog that eats the scraps from his master’s table.” Picking the Insurgent Leader up, the Nemesis quietly tossed him into the wardrobe, slamming it shut and locking it.
Glancing at the painters that were all frightfully staring at him, the Nemesis said, incredibly nonchalant, “I think a nice blue would go well with the curtains you have there.” Without another comment, he left the room, leaving the painters in fearful silence.
