The Overlord Saga
Vol I. Past, Present, Future
Chapter 5: Retaliation
The Overlord watched the sphere as it neared, its blinding lights forcing her to squint. Scythe in hand, she felt the heat from the light as it came within yards of her. Part of her wanted to move, but part of her just stayed. ‘I’m going to get hit’, she thought, ‘I’m going to get hit if I don’t move’. For a second, she wondered what would happened if she got hit. Would she fly backwards and humiliate herself? Or would it even leave permanent damage? Did she really want to find out? ‘Psh. Hell no’, the Overlord decided and tossed the scythe at the sphere, watching as it spun like some deadly windmill toward the sphere. As it broke apart upon impact, the Insurgent Leader lunged forward, sword in hand. The Overlord leapt backward, watching the blade as it nicked her arm and missed her chest by less than an inch.
“Just what are you aiming for exactly?” the Overlord asked with a raised eyebrow. She did a backflip and kicked Muramasa from the Insurgent Leader’s hand, causing it to go flying into the air. The Insurgent Leader crouched down, then leapt high into the air, catching the sword by the hilt, then landed on the ground. The Overlord charged at him, then jumped to kick him, but the Insurgent Leader caught her foot and moved to flip her in classic ninja-fighting style.
The Overlord moved with the momentum, and upon flipping, lashed out with the scythe across the Insurgent Leader’s torso. He staggered backwards, grabbing the gash in agony as he held up the longsword. The Overlord held up the bloodied scythe and smirked, “You were asking for it, dwarf.”
“Enough with the jokes!” The Insurgent Leader yelled.
“But they just make this fight so much better!” the Overlord called back with a laugh.
“You know what else would make this fight so much better?” the Insurgent Leader asked, “Epic battle music.”
“I agree. Rick Astley is a bit lacking in that department,” the Overlord concurred lightly, “I believe a bit of One-Winged Angel is fit here. Although, I must admit, Sephiroth is not my favorite person.”
“Hm, agreed,” the Insurgent Leader nodded, “Then a compromise? I’d hate to honor him here.”
“Hm... Would you oppose Diem Ex Dei? It’s a pretty decent song. It’s by Globus,” the Overlord suggested, “It starts off slow, though. We’d have to wait for it to go a bit faster before we could resume.”
“Eh...” The Insurgent Leader made a face.
“Fine then, eager beaver, let’s just settle for Planet Hell by Nightwish, then,” the Overlord shrugged.
“Right. I have stereos, I’ll have my people play it,” the Insurgent Leader began.
“No, wait!”
“What is it?”
“You might Rick-roll us again.”
“That’s nonsense...”
“I don’t trust Insurgents. My stereos will play the song.”
“If you insist...”
As the first few high-pitched notes rang throughout the battlefield, the Overlord rested her scythe on her shoulder, smirking at the Insurgent Leader, “Oh this brings back old times... Doesn’t it?” She asked and gripped the handle of the scythe tightly, “Oh well. Nostalgia gone.”
“The past is the past! We fight for the future! A future without YOU!” the Insurgent Leader roared and charged forward. The Overlord lifted her hand and a pillar of fire shot up just a few paces in front of her rival. As he rolled to the side, she swiped down at him with the scythe, only to be countered by a quick block from his longsword.
“A future without me? Well, that’s hardly a future at all!” the Overlord sneered. “You, though, you’re expendable!”
“Expendable? There was a world before without you, and it can exist again! I’ll make sure of it!” the Insurgent Leader shot back.
“Do you remember what that world was like before?” the Overlord demanded, “DO you remember? Because I do, Insurgent Leader. I remember very well.”
“You’re exactly what you claimed to hate, you... traitor!” the Insurgent Leader lifted the sword to strike the Overlord, but an odd noise cut through the epic battle music playing in the background. The Overlord held up a hand, then pulled out a cellphone, looking down at the screen.
“Hold that thought,” the Overlord frowned, then muttered, “Lex? Why’s he calling me now...?”
“Is it more Super Villain business?” the Insurgent Leader lowered his sword in dismay. “Can’t this wait until later?”
“It’s Lex, though. You know I don’t like him,” the Overlord scowled, “Can we postpone this? Sorry, I really need to take this call.”
“Fine,” the Insurgent Leader held up his hands, letting the sword fall to the ground. The Overlord shoved her scythe into the ground, then pushed the ‘Accept Call’ button.
“Hello? Lex?”
---
Sexist and Tinkerbell had realized several things after their encounter with the Ninja-Lord. The first thing was that they were constantly being watched. The second thing was that none of their friends seemed to give a rat’s behind that they had once been allies. Everything Overlord-related was fair game to slice and dice. The third thing was that the Soul Jar (or what they believed to be the Soul Jar) was constantly being kept by the Soul-Keeper, who frequently was not paying attention to what he was doing.
“We ambush him and we take it,” Tinkerbell whispered into Sexist’s ear as they approached the Soul-Keeper from behind. The Soul-Keeper was casting bolts of lightning onto a few fleeing Insurgents, singing all the while.
“WHAT RAAAAGING FIREEEE SHALL FLOOD THE SOULLLLL!? WHAT RICHHHH DESIRE UNLOCKS ITSSSS DOOOOOOORRR!? WHAT SWEET SEDUCTION-” the Soul-Keeper sang loudly as he struck down an Insurgent mercilessly.
“What the hell is he singing?” Tinkerbell asked.
“I don’t think that’s singing. I think that’s more like screaming,” Sexist remarked, “Okay... Listen, you attack him. I’ll go for the Soul Jar.”
“Okay,” Tinkerbell nodded. The two approached the Soul-Keeper as stealthily as they could. Tinkerbell curled his hands into fists, and pounced on the Soul-Keeper with surprising ferocity. He dealt the Soul-Keeper a blow to the shoulder, then a second blow to the chin. Sexist dove for the jar, which had been hanging around the Soul-Keeper’s neck. After snatching the jar, Sexist began trying to pull the rope dangling around the Soul-Keeper’s neck.
“Ow! Ow! HELP!” the Soul-Keeper yelled, “No! Bad! Naughty Underlings! Going to... the... Dungeon!”
“I can’t hold him much longer!” Tinkerbell warned. Sexist pulled the jar away from the Soul-Keeper, falling back onto his butt. He opened the jar and looked in, expecting to see a clump of glowing souls.
“Glowsticks!?” Sexist yelled in anger, pulling a half-leaking glowstick out of the jar, before dropping it back in, “Ew....” He sat the jar down, then scowled, “It’s useless. It’s a fake!”
“Fake?! It’s not fake!” the Soul-Keeper beat Tinkerbell back with his staff, then crawled over to the jar, “My precious souls... My lovelies... My precious...”
“Take your freaking glowsticks, you psychotic... ughhhh!” Sexist yelled, frustrated. Tinkerbell stood up, then stopped, his jaw dropping as he pointed behind Sexist. Before he could say anything, the Ninja-Lord had Sexist face-planted on the ground, katana in one hand.
“Didn’t I just deal with you two while ago?” Ninja-Lord asked with narrowed eyes.
“Oh goodie,” Tinkerbell scowled as the Soul-Keeper grabbed him by the wrist.
“These two have been naughty,” the Soul-Keeper smirked, giving Ninja-Lord a knowing look.
“To the Dungeon?” Ninja-Lord asked with a devilish grin.
“To the Dungeon!” the Soul-Keeper said gleefully.
As Ninja-Lord dragged Sexist back into the Fortress, she looked over her shoulder at where the Underlings were coming back toward the main gate. She looked at the Soul-Keeper, then muttered, “The Overlord called the battle off. Wonder what’s up?”
“Beats me,” the Soul-Keeper replied, “Let’s take these two bad boys away.”
“Touch me anywhere you shouldn’t and I will punch you in the face. Again,” Tinkerbell warned.
“Touching should be the least of your concerns,” Ninja-Lord warned darkly as they entered the Fortress.
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