The Overlord Saga
Vol I. Past, Present, Future
Chapter 9: Flames and Lightning
As the Insurgent Leader tried to patch up his broken honor, he sat on the floor of his tent that had been set up on the timberline, where he could monitor the Overlord’s lair. He looked at the new recruits as they entered, led in by a dutiful Insurgent who hailed from Canada. The Insurgent Leader waved the Canadian out, then eyed the first Insurgent- some young looking high school student.
“Name?” the Insurgent Leader inquired.
“Austin, sir,” the boy replied. "Call me Blondie, sir."
“Next?” the Insurgent Leader said passively.
“Randalph, sir,” the next hopeful answered.
“Next?”
“Tim, sir.”
“Tim?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Which of you CANNOT wield a weapon?” the Insurgent Leader asked, lifting his chin to make himself look bigger. The attempt failed. As none of the Insurgent hopefuls replied, he nodded, content with the three new soldiers, “Then you will all be assigned a platoon. Good luck.”
“Insurgent Leader!” the Canadian came running back into the tent, “There’s an army of underlings and the Overlord approaching the forest! They look prepared for battle!”
“So soon?” the Insurgent Leader stood up, “Then we’ll fight. Rally the men, get the cannons, but spare the Overlord. She’s mine!” He drew Muramasa from its scabbard and stepped out from the tent, barking orders at the panicked Insurgents. As the Insurgent Leader spied the massive army marching toward the woods, he yelled, “Form up the ranks and wait for my signal!”
He walked toward the edge of the woods, glaring at the Overlord in pure rage. The Insurgent Leader noted the shoulder plates and shin guards that the Overlord was wearing, matching the new crimson cape that whipped about in the wind. ‘She must’ve used the 1-day rush option on Ebay’, the Insurgent Leader realized. “What is the meaning of this?” the Insurgent Leader yelled at the Overlord.
“It’s time to end this once and for all! I grow tired of this never-ending conflict!” the Overlord yelled.
“She had a Monster, didn’t she?” the Insurgent Leader asked the nervous-looking Advisor.
“Yep.”
“What kind?”
“An orange one.”
“That makes no difference!” the Insurgent Leader declared, “Insurgents, attack!” The Overlord spastically swung the scythe at the shorter Insurgent Leader’s head but missed. He clashed blades with the Overlord, and pushed her away from him. The Overlord turned and grabbed the Insurgent Leader, holding him up in the air with a single hand.
“Hahaha, you don’t weigh much!” the Overlord giggled uncontrollably, then threw the Insurgent Leader to the ground. He rolled out of the way as she brought the scythe down, embedding itself in the dirt. As the Overlord worked quickly to attempt to pull the scythe from the ground, the Insurgent Leader lifted the sword.
The Overlord yanked the scythe up and caught the blade in the niche between the handle and the blade. She spun around, causing the sword to go flying away, then tried to impale him with the scythe. But as in every epic fight, the Insurgent Leader jumped away, performing an unnecessary backflip for epicness’ sake. The Overlord held the scythe in one hand and bent down and picked up Muramasa. As the Insurgent Leader charged forward, now weaponless and seemingly defenseless, the Overlord raced forward, tossing Muramasa into the air. The Insurgent Leader leapt up, catching it by the handle and clashing blades with the Overlord, grinning from ear to ear, “Thanks for giving this back to me.”
“I’m a generous person,” the Overlord grinned back and the two combatants jumped away, giving each other three yards of space to circle in the midst of the fray.
---
But for a moment, we’ll venture away from the hyperactive Overlord to where the Ninja-Lord was facing off with the newly recruited Austin/Blondie from God-Knows-Where, whom she found to be... Quite an incredibly easy opponent to face off with. Initially, she had appeared behind him with katana at hand, but the smell of the smoke bombs had alerted him. As he clumsily swung his sword at her, she ducked under the blade and shanked him with a small knife concealed under her sleeve, backflipping, then raising the katana to strike once more.
The Ninja-Lord tossed him into the air, slashing him a few times with his sword as he flew a few feet, landing on his back. A few shruiken were tossed as the poor Insurgent attempted to stand and he was pinned to a tree. The Ninja-Lord mercilessly walked away, leaving him attached to the tree in agony. She closed her eyes and threw a smoke bomb, disappearing to the far side of the battlefield.
“Soul-Keeper!” the Ninja-Lord called, “I need you now!”
“Baby, everyone does,” the Soul-Keeper winked at her from behind his mask.
“I fear that the Sexist is leaving,” the Ninja-Lord replied, “He was left behind. My senses tell me he is going to make an escape attempt.”
“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” the Soul-Keeper asked.
“Keep him there,” the Ninja-Lord said simply.
“Fine...” the Soul-Keeper disappeared in a beam of light and appeared at the gates of the Fortress, sighing as he looked up at the closed doors. “Oh goodie... who locked us out?” As he stared at the lone figure on top of the gates, the Soul-Keeper squinted his eyes, distinctly making out the blonde hair as it reflected against the sunlight.
“Oh nooooo he did not,” the Soul-Keeper began in dismay, “SEXIST? IS THAT YOU?!”
“I’VE TAKEN OVER YOUR FORTRESS!” Sexist proclaimed loudly, “Listen up... We’re finding the Soul Jar- the REAL one this time. You’re going to wish you hadn’t sided with the Overlord, Soul-Keeper!”
“You’ve been a bad boy, Sexist,” the Soul-Keeper replied. “I knew we should’ve put you in the Dungeon!”
“You’re welcome to try... If you can get in,” Sexist laughed hysterically.
The Soul-Keeper held his staff in one hand, then replied, “You never underestimate the Soul-Keeper, Sexist! That’s why you got caught the first time!” As he lifted his staff, the clouds began to darken, rumbling with thunder. As the Soul-Keeper began summoning lightning to strike down the disobedient underling, Sexist pulled out two small flails.
“See these? I have my weapons back, Soul-Keeper,” Sexist added, stepping aside casually as a bolt of lightning came slicing downward. “You’ll never win.” As the Soul-Keeper directed another bolt to hit Sexist, the newly freed Insurgent stood on the edge of the gates, glaring down at the masked magician. The lightning struck the area behind Sexist, a little too close for comfort.
“Don’t jump!” the Soul-Keeper began.
“I’m not stupid. I just like mocking you from up here,” Sexist replied smugly.
“Fine then!” the Soul-Keeper snapped his fingers and he appeared atop the main gates alongside Sexist.
“How’d you-” Sexist demanded.
“I’m the Soul-Keeper!” the Soul-Keeper replied and lifted his staff, “It’s my job to put you in your place. And that’s on your knees!”
“Did you seriously just say that?” Sexist asked, mini-flails in each hand. He watched as the Soul-Keeper began to darken the skies even further with his thunder magic. Shaking his head, Sexist began twirling both of the flails, “Come on!”
“Who ordered the fried Sexist?” the Soul-Keeper called and pointed his staff at Sexist. A surge of lightning sprung forth, knocking Sexist off of his feet. As the Soul-Keeper rushed forward to smack Sexist in the stomach with his staff, Sexist grabbed the staff in one hand, and one of the flails in the other. He smashed the spiky ball into the Soul-Keeper’s mask, cracking it in half.
As the Soul-Keeper’s left side of his mask fell off, Sexist scrambled to his feet, gathering up both of the flails. The Soul-Keeper threw the right half of the mask away, revealing.......... his relatively normal face (oh God, the horror!). In anger, he slammed the bottom of the wooden staff against the ground, causing the wall to quake under their feet. Sexist’s arm slammed against the wall of the gates to steady himself. While the Soul-Keeper was recovering, the Insurgent rushed to attack him, swinging one of the spiky spheres at the Soul-Keeper’s knee. As the Soul-Keeper bent over in agony, Sexist slammed him in the back.
The Soul-Keeper grabbed his staff and lifted it high enough to slam Sexist right between the legs. As Sexist fell to the ground immediately, the Soul-Keeper pushed himself to his feet with his staff. Sexist rocked back and forth in tears of pain, warranting a smug little cackle from the Soul-Keeper. “How do you like that, huh?” the Soul-Keeper demanded, “YOU BROKE MY MASK!”
“You.... broke.... my....” the rest was cut off by what sounded like gasping and maybe even a choked sob.
“Awwww, poor little Sexist,” the Soul-Keeper teased, nudging one of the discarded flails with a foot, “Interesting weapon choice. Do you like flinging around big balls attached to small, skinny rods?” The Soul-Keeper giggled, then poked Sexist with his staff, “Get up. You wuss.”
Sexist reached out and grabbed one of the flails, promptly smashing it down on the Soul-Keeper’s foot. As the Soul-Keeper yelped in rage, Sexist slowly made his way to his feet, standing very awkwardly. “That wasn’t necessary,” Sexist said, voice cracking in pain. As the Soul-Keeper took up his staff, Sexist gathered the other flail, though winced painfully as he did so.
---
Back near the Insurgent’s camp, the Overlord and the Insurgent Leader were evenly matched. The Overlord had her scythe stuck in a tree as the Insurgent Leader swung at her, catching her in the side. She pushed forward from the momentum of the impact, the scythe dislodging itself from the tree trunk. She tripped the Insurgent Leader with the butt of the handle. He responded with a sharp kick to the shin, though, the Overlord replied to this move with a punch to the face as he stood up.
As the two combated, the Overlord noticed how each move seemed dirtier and less honorable than the last. She shot a flare of fire at him, but he rolled away, shooting back his own flare at her, which ended up causing a tree to catch fire. As the smoldering tree fell to the ground and corrupted others with fire, the Overlord found herself violently coughing, though, still keeping track of where her rival was.
The Insurgent Leader was moving in for another strike when a voice cut through the melee, sounding far-off. The Overlord stopped and listened as another cry rang out, “Hey! Overlord!”
The Insurgent Leader spun around, expecting to see more reinforcements. The Overlord held up a hand and peered through the smoke and the flames. Impatiently walking forward, she ignored the Insurgent Leader as he lifted up his sword to strike her. She narrowed her eyes, seeing a far-off silhouette in the midst of the fire.
“Is that...?” the Overlord began, almost in disbelief.
From the smoke, the ash, and the raging fire, a teenage girl seemed to simply appear- someone other than an Insurgent or an underling. The Insurgent Leader stopped, his sword hanging limply in his right hand. She ran a hand through her brown hair, then folded her arms, “It took me forever to find you two.”
The Overlord leaned slightly to the left, still staring at the girl in disbelief. As the girl took a step forward, the Overlord did as well, but as though she were in a trance. The Overlord coughed a moment, rubbed an eye and lowered her scythe. Still shocked, the Overlord reached out and poked the girl in the shoulder, head tilted to the side, as if expecting the girl to be some sort of mirage. ‘She... really is here, isn’t she?’
“Jamie?”
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