Tyrant of the Ruined Sun - Chapter 232

Chapter 232: The Hilltop Duel 1

Dushlan Hill.

I expected many things after I’ve heard so much of it’s illustrious reputation, this hallowed land that stood as the focal point of round a dozen or so legends and myths, the anchor of an age of folklore, passed down through centuries or even millennia of embellishment and half-truths, that now stood as the bedrock to an entire civilization’s culture.

And yet none of my grand expectations seemed to quite manifest themselves in the sight before me when I finally beheld it. Not it’s appearance that lacked all the pomp and presentation of such a supposedly significant and respected cultural sight, not it’s air that was forlorn of all glory and instead seemed to permeate the surroundings with a sullen sense of abandonment, and certainly not it’s immediate vicinity, which were a littered patchwork of long since discarded buildings, like remanent islands of it’s old splendour and a couple of derelict graveyards, stranded to the mercy of nature’s reclaiming grip.

And yet despite all of this, even in one like me, who never grew up hearing this place’s name constantly muttered with quiet reverence, an odd prickle of a feeling that I could not describe with ordinary words managed to sprout in the corner of my heart the longer I gazed at it.

From the bottom half, it looked as any other hill would, a rising patch of earth littered with overgrown bushes, weeds and wildflowers, with the occasionally scattered tree every few paces, casting it’s meagre shade over the deep brown earth, but the upper half was where peculiarity finally began, being utterly different from any other place I had ever seen, for it was non-existent.

As though it’s peak was once displeasing to the eye of particularly miffed and powerful being, it looked to have been unceremoniously cleaved off with a single, clean cut. In it’s place now rose a few uneven pillars of faded marble around a wide, circular stone arena; the massive cut boulders that once constituted it’s floor, were now cracked and weathered, and almost unnoticeable beneath the thick layer of protruding weeds and grass, as it’s once pristine appearance having now been worn down by dirt, battle and time.

All standing unconcernedly to the backdrop of hundreds of thousands of Murathicus men, camped just on the opposite side of the hill, their horns blowing a siren’s wail and their drums beating like a rolling wave of thunderheads, as akin to ants who’s colony has been treaded upon, the men swarmed from their dwellings and fires, and rushed chaotically not to arms necessarily, but to guarded attention.

“Looks like I won.” Horus happily declared looking to Hasdrubal with a triumphant smile, as we all beheld the mass of enemy men beginning to part, to allow a detachment of honour guard upon resplendent chariots approach us at speed.

“You had a bet?” Cyrus asked, looking at the two.

“Whether they would greet us with aggression or with proper respect.” Horus quickly explained, keeping a gloating eye on the scowling Hasdrubal.

“We don’t know that yet.” Leonid quietly interjected then, his hand instinctively gripping harder around his weapon, as the five charioteers pulled hard on the reigns, bringing their stallions to a stop before us.

“Salutations to the Great Calamity, master of the northern demons and Emperor of the Eclipse Empire, Alexander the third.” The man on the lead chariot loudly proclaimed in a slightly rough pronunciation of the common tongue.

‘The Great Calamity?’ I thought in amusement, wondering when I had gained a new title so quickly.

“Please, do pardon them lord, they meant no disrespect.” A familiar voice sounded out then, as I then spotted a head of thinning of silver hair I had first seen not two weeks ago. “They only called you as such, for that is what our people have come to know you as; in fact, most of us now adays no longer say your name when referencing you.” He finished with a wide grin. “An apt name wouldn’t you say?”

‘Again?’ I thought with an audible sigh, remembering how my mother and siblings didn’t stop teasing me for weeks when the masses suddenly decided the words Ruinous Dragon, were synonymous with my name too. ‘Please, oh Gods, please spare me this torture a second time.’

The men on the chariots seemed to finally break the spell they were momentarily bewitched by, at Argus’ abrupt presence, as they immediately jumped from their high posts and deeply bowed in overflowing reverence at the shabbily dressed man, who suddenly appeared walking among them.

“Set camp.” I calmly ordered, turning to my generals, noticing the sun was beginning it’s daily dip into the horizon.

“Sire!” They saluted.

“An excellent idea.” Nodded Argus, as he looked at me with a pointed look. “The match will start with the first light, would that be agreeable to you lord?”

“I have no issue with the matter.” I simply replied, tugging my horse to turn around.

“Splendid.” He said with a flourished bow, bidding me farewell till tomorrow.

A duration of time that seemed to mock me, as time began to act most oddly, for one minute I thought myself sitting comfortably on my bed in the lotus position, wanting to meditate and circulate my divine power through my whole body to rejuvenate my tired self with it’s miasmic potency for tomorrow’s fight, and wishing that Eve would return to my side tonight too, after another eighteen day separation, when I suddenly found myself rising from my bed at Horus’ call, telling me it was time to don my armour, and the next minute I was beginning the climb up the hill, my armour fully clasped around my body and Dark Majesty’s familiar weight swinging rhythmically on my hip, while my brothers, Nizam and Cyrus carried my helm and Fallen Nemesis respectively.

Once we crested the hill’s abruptly ending side, a loud cheer erupted from all around us, that even caused the earth beneath our feet to violently shake, as the two armies, culminating to a staggering seven hundred thousand men, roared as one for their competing monarchs.

I stood to north side of the arena, well who I could only assume to ne my opponent occupied the southern end. He was clad in medium armour of the best Etherus steel, woven in the shape of intertwined bronze wheat stalks and embellished with the polished silver of bustling harbour waters. While his helm was open faced, leaving his face utterly bare, but it was no less decorated, as a proud oak tree, with it’s many branches open wide rested comfortably across it’s surface, brilliantly catching the quickly creeping mourning light.

I peered carefully at his satisfied and proud face, trying to make sure that this was indeed the man I faced and slew in my past life, and though his features told me that he was, there was something a miss, but I contented myself for the moment by reminding myself that he like all the rest, would be different from what I remember him, considering I first met more than a century from now.

Sadly, I could not think much past that point, as I was interrupted by the loud yell of Argus, who stood in the central stage “Champions! Enter!”

I calmly took Fallen Nemesis from Cyrus, who offered me a confident little grin, while Nizam merely offered a reassuring nod and then even a brief hug, after he handed me my helm.

I placed a hand on both of their shoulders, thanking them both and telling them to simply enjoy the show and await my victory, as I calmly strode forth, my eyes already taking on their divine form, while my halberd began humming with suppressed power.

Abraham and Horus took a stop forward, before they then took a lurching stop, as though their bodies were fighting against their natural instincts to keep following me.

Only Hamilcar continued with me into the circle, but he quickly veered off to my right, with a final word of good luck, as he took his position opposite Argus, who was no longer dressed in his usual clothes and instead now clad in a fearful silver armour, polished to mirrors, while a gigantic executioner’s sword rested ominously across his slightly hunched back, as a second wave of sky piercing cheers exploded around us.

Yet I was no longer giving it any heed, becoming a distant whisper to my ears, as the whole world narrowed to only myself and my enemy.

My eyes sharpened, and my hearing elevated. My muscles suddenly felt taught, like a bow’s string before loosing, while my lungs and heart settled into a calming, harmonious melody of anticipation. All the while, my aura pulsed faintly at my finger tips, giving me a slight tingling sensation across my whole palm, as my divine power raged silently in my veins, resting precariously on the precipice of eruption.

I gave myself fully to these sensations, and I could track the subtle twitching of his pupils from my face to my legs, and the faint flexing of his hands on his weapon’s cold surface, as though itching to begin already, I took it all in.

And then it happened, the simultaneous shout of Hamilcar and Argus that finally set us loose.

“Commence!”