Chapter 31

The Saga of The Grass Knight Part 2

The humans behind me and the horde in front of me had their faces agape at the light show of my plasma sword. It was close to sundown, and the afternoon glare of shadowed light made my one and a half meter tall sword shine brilliantly across the scattering amazement of the crowd around me.

The troll, that was ready to charge me, paused for a moment, puzzled at such a spectacle. But it did not hinder him, for he was a troll, and all damage was obsolete to his regenerative might. Except for one, there was a reason I made this plasma sword. I was a grass folk, and there are trolls, and there is one thing we share in common. It’s our aversion to fire, for plants and the trees hate fire as much as the trolls, with it’s burning capacity.

Unbeknownst to the troll, fire is just a visible contour of oxygen heated by the process of combustion. Heat excites the molecules in the air creating light, pale blue in its origin. There is a common fallacy in fantasy, to describe fire as an element, but it is not an element in a practical sense, it is an energy, a chemical reaction of combustion when atoms rearrange themselves, so when fire burns, there is no un-burning.

My plasma sword is just a facet of that energy, the light show is spectacular, the damage is obsolete and cancerous. It is the defining equilibrium of breaking down atomic nature. It was awesome.

The troll began his ponderous charge with the weight uncounted by the thumps of its steps. He held his log club back for a wide over the shoulder swing with both his arms, planning to bat Amelia away as he charged. I sat there waiting inside the vibrating interior of my mecha, as the heavy thumps outside began to become more prevalent against the fluctuating tempo of the grass.

When the troll was several paces away, he swung. I watched the arc of his swing, like a fair man, counting the half seconds from the full. Taking the twofold amount of time, that size differential gave me, I reacted; by tilting my analog twig to step to the left to avoid the charge, simultaneously lifting the left gauntlet holding the plasma sword to parry. When energy and wood collided, the outcome was already determined. Half of the log flew off bisected by the edge of the plasma---it had barely missed the grass tip of my plumage, landing with a thump aways from the troll and my mecha.

The troll spun from his halted charge to give me and my plasma sword, a confounding expression. He could not comprehend it yet, which gave me the time to counter. I swung the grass-made vibro-sword to slice a furrow of his thick right leg. He collapsed to a knee from the action, still looking at me with utter shock. No sense in moralizing and deliberating the course that I had already chosen, I swung again with the left gauntlet--decapitating the troll’s head with the plasma heat of the sword.

300 Critical Slash Damage.

Congratulations!

You have Leveled Up!

+1 to Skill Points

I’ve killed before, and I will likely kill again, it was my choice to make, determined by the flawed facets of my moral compass. I will likely regret every life I have taken so far, for what is the life of violence but full of regrets. ‘They were justified homicide,’ I told myself, as I alter my consciousness to transition to the coldness of a machine with no remorse.

No blood or muck that spewed out from the neck and head of the troll for it was cauterized by the plasma sword that eviscerated through. The thud of the troll’s head flabbergasted all the spectators into silence. But that wasn’t the reason why they were quiet. It was the mechanical movements of the swing, the cold robotic motion so alien to their nature, that inspired such silent fanfare at the fight’s end.

I turned Amelia to face the rest of the silent horde, who looked at me with horrified understanding, that they may be next.

“Ish judd one puny humane!” The troll, close to the front snarled. “Charge! Charge!” He beckoned the green wave of goblins and ogres into his command. Goblins and ogres, glanced at each other, comprehending the numbers they had with their low intellectual minds. They roared each other up, psyching them to all act together in their motion to charge.

I lifted the right gauntlet holding the vibro-blade in front of them and fired the combusting barrage. When the explosions and shrapnels landed, injuring a few goblins to curse, the horde moved. Agitated and signaled by my transgression, they all charged at me, with the feral hatred of a mob committed to inflicting torment and death.

So what did I do, against such frenzy and greed? Did I charge against the horde, one man against so many? Such a brave sight indeed to have witnessed the heroic charge of the grass knight, against so many.

No, I did not, for all I did was turn to the side and ran.

Well, not literally, I was sitting agitated on my stool, inside Amelia who was prompted to run. But I digress, and Amelia didn’t actually run, she just skipped. Skipping away to the left from the goblin mob, set on evisceration. To the human spectators atop the wooden rampart, witnessing my mecha skipping; likely thought I was mocking the horde that was hounding me. Hopefully, the same assumption fell onto the goblin hordes behind. If I can taunt all of them into a fervor to pursue me, then all the better for it.

I swiveled Amelia’s head to the center goblin horde that was pursuing me. “Come on you green gobs of putrid snots!” I shouted through the helm’s voice amplifier. Taunting them as I skipped by, with the pogo-sticks assisting my jumps. I turned the vision slits back to the location I had planned to escape through. My grinning face had soured after noticing the right flank of their army was blocking my destination.

The goblin army did not all group in one huge circular cluster but instead had curved to the whims of the wooden walls. So I expected I’d have to cut through a few of them, before luring them away from the gates. Two bluish ogres alongside 30 or so goblins were in my way, charging straight for me. As Amelia landed recoiling for another skip, I angled ready both my swords to swing in separate directions when I next launched.

I launched when the two ogres, with their long legs, were several paces away from Amelia. Instantly, my mecha went between them, slicing one in half with the plasma sword, and cutting the arm of the latter.

Congratulations!

You have Leveled Up!

+1 to Skill Points

250 Critical Slash Damage.

When I had landed, the goblin mobs were in front of me. Configuring a new pose, I began twirling each sword as I skipped through the motley force of goblins. At the end of our exchange, I had sliced through one-third of their numbers, gaining another level to my disgust. The System does like to reward those, who massacre the living. Grunting, I continued on, whilst admonishing myself for benefiting from the System.

Congratulations!

You have Leveled Up!

+1 to Skill Points

Exiting out from encirclement, I continued to hear the amalgamated thuds and thumps of those who were pursuing behind me. From the vibrations on the ground and the scattering haze of audible movement, I had surmised that the entire horde was on Amelia’s tail. I continued my jump script, to skip through the clouted soil ahead.

Glimpsing the green foliage of tall grass, and docile shrubbery, I motion Amelia to skip faster to the tempo I had set. I was close. A sweat droplet slid down my scalp--annoying me, which prompted me to wipe the trickle off my brows. It was getting hot inside my mecha for some reason. The thick temperature enclosed inside had risen into a boiling summer day. It was at a point that my breathing felt haggard from the heat.

“Reload, for sandstone flares,” I ordered down to Peb. “And also start the waterstone sprinklers, it’s getting hot inside!”

“I thought it was just me,” Peb muttered back in a reply. Wondering for a moment why the temperature inside had increased. The niggling feeling that I was missing something, made me turn to the diagnostic receivers of my Mecha, the left gauntlet had glared orange, which was not normal, but not necessarily important.

“Loaded!” Peb hollered.

Shrugging at the niggling notion, I stopped in the middle of the plain of tall grass and shrubs. There were even a few maple trees sparsely decorated across the grassy plain. The wooden wall was nearby, I noticed Merrywind’s feather hat poking out from the rampart’s covers. Eyes focusing, I had identified with glee, huge circular microphones poking out through the slits between the wooden protections. There were a few human guards with spears atop the ramparts, nearby, which was increasing in numbers as the horde that was hounding me became prevalent to the sight below them.

I stirred Amelia to turn her sights on the horde that had reached the boundaries of the grassy plains. Overlapping it, the warband continued on their dogged pursuit of their instigator. Lifting the gauntlet that had the Vibro-blade sequestered in its grip, I triggered the sandstone rockets to fly out from sockets in the between the knuckles, into the clouded sky.

Combusting stones were below the loosely wrapped rockets, within which was a deluge of yellow powder sandstone. After 15 meters in the air, the combusting stones ended their lift, spraying the yellow powder to cloud across the air.

The sputtering electricity that forced out of the pommel of my plasma sword began to lessen in tension. Noticing this, I unlinked my vibro-sword, stamping the point to bury into the grassy soil below. I then reloaded the air cartridge that was sequestered at the bottom of the plasma sword with a new cartridge.

Picking up the dagger handle of my vibro-sword, I faced her forward, fully linked, and prepared for the upcoming violence ahead of Amelia. A gust of turbulent wind, brush the curtains of tall grass to bow to the side, as I waited in the afternoon shade for the horde in front. They were forming into orderly ranks when they had noticed my mecha had stopped. It was as if, they knew, I was done with running and preparing myself to fight the horde that was coming for me.

In all my years of living, I never imagined I’d be in a battle such as this. It was surreal to see such frenzied force, heading towards me. I calmed my mind, my trance for violence, for the briefest of moments. I then heard it then. The sounds of a melody, forming into a song.

“I been cheated by you since you know when

So I made up my mind, it must come to an end”

“Oh, no…” My face changed from somber reflection into wide dismay.

‘No, why? How? I thought she’d sing something from the grass folk---how did she learn that song?'

“No,” My face went agape at a past memory that struck me. I had sung that song once before when I found a small fountain stream near my home grove. I was so ecstatic at the find, I instantly undressed and took a shower. At the moment when the water slapped my face, it made me gleeful, so I sang it--Sera’s song choice for this battle. “Oh, goddess!”

“Mamma mia, here I go again

My my, how can I resist you?

Mamma mia, does it show again

My my, just how much I've missed you?”

Sera’s song choice was ‘Mamma Mia’ from the popular 80s band Abba.

As the song choice became more audible, assisted by the three other grass singers with their microphones, the horde in front of me standing atop the tall grass halted. They then turned around to search where the jaunty tune came from. It was so strange, to hear such an odd musical score in their current frenzy, they had paused to gawk at each other.

The tall grass below and within the goblin horde started to dance to the song. Motivated by the fluctuation and the intention that was conveyed through the sound, the tall grass began to instinctively latch onto short legs and arms of the goblins arrayed around them.

“Mamma mia, here I go again

My my, how can I resist you?

Mamma mia, does it show again

My my, just how much I've missed you?”

“This isn’t happening.” ‘Was Sera peeping when I took my singing shower?’

My face paled in comprehension and understanding. The plan was working, the tall grass and shrubs began to listen to the song's intentions. They had flung themselves to their goblin partners in restraining adoration for the music around. With the effect of the Active Skill, Resonance which multiplies with concurrent voices that sings increasing the parameters of the area of effect, supported by the microphones, the song that was sung by the Grass Singers, was heard throughout the whole grassy plain below.

“Waaa issh happening?” “I lik dish song.” “Gowd beet, gowd beet.” The goblins and ogres blathered, whilst being confined by their grass counterparts. “I kant movb?”

No time to waste being flabbergasted at the song choice, I skipped into the dumbstruck and trapped horde in front of me. I began my dance of violence, amongst the gobsmack albeit nattered army. I swung both my swords like a whirlwind, cutting through limbs and heads, as the immobilized audience around realized their conundrum. They tried to fidget out of the clinging grasp of the tall grass, some even managing to rip through the roots, but it was for naught, for the grass was as many as the partners around.

Green blood flew, as I twirled by---skipping into madness, as the song was sung. I was so confused. Decapitation, dismemberments, and cauterizations, I was dancing against a horde that was stagnant to the song for the grass.

“Mamma mia, here I go again

My my, how can I resist you?

Mamma mia, does it show again

My my, just how much I've missed you?”

The song was going on a loop, for the bodies in the field ran thick with congealing blood. It was a massacre for the ages. Ogres were slightly hassled, immune from the clinging nature of the grass. They hurried forth to stop the constant bleeding I was reaping into the horde. I swung my plasma blade, cutting two in halves. It was awe-inspiring brutality that I had brought, mechanical and procedural to a fault.

No average human would sustain such a tempo of killing when prompted to do so. My mecha wasn’t human, so it did not have the limitation of one. Amelia was a dancing machine, skipping through her partners in mesmerizing terror. At the point, I could not count the number of goblins and ogres I had slew, only the number of levels I had attained. 3 levels from my farming, for it was farming, and I was a reaper, reaping giants into the soil.

“Destroy the grass!” The troll hollered. His face was gobsmacked in its cruelty, pointed at me with a large log that was riddled with swords and blades tied all around its shaft. I directed Amelia to move to him, for taking him down would likely prompt the goblin horde to retreat from such a single-handed massacre.

The heat inside the mecha was becoming more prevalent as I slathered the sweat off my scalp. My whole body felt heat exhausted, even when sitting, the sweat was perspiring around my body. Smoke and steam were building below, the soles of my feet began to simmer from the platform below.

“Peb!” I panicked, shouting for my sidekick’s name.

“The water stones have all run out,” Peb shouted up above, distressed at the situation below. I tried to reason why this was occurring until I finally turned to my plasma sword, I knew why. The amount of heat that the plasma sword was permeating was too much for the steel and grass that didn’t have the extra enchantment of heat resistance. The left gauntlets were literally melting off from their frames. Embers commence igniting inside the grass frame structure of the gauntlet. Smoke and cinders began to rush out from the opened passageways below, smothering the green ecosystem within.

I swiveled my head towards the diagnostic chart that had pebble receivers prompting areas of the mecha that was burning with glaring red. I glimpsed earlier when the orange pebbles were lit before, Ignoring the fact that the issue might permutate into something worse. I scripted Amelia to drop the burning plasma sword, but the commands did not work. The steel gauntlet had literally melted into the rubber pommel of the sword, melding itself against the unburning frame of the weapon. Amelia had halted when my focus had changed from the exterior battle around me, into the interior crisis within her.

The right gauntlet holding the vibro-sword was still functioning. Cursing myself for a fool for not doing this earlier, I raised the vibrating edge of the blade so I could slice half the metal arm that was holding fixed the burning plasma sword.

In utter horror, I stared at the dismemberment of my mecha. Then a huge shadow fell above me, I turned the helm to see why the sky was so dark, when the collision of the modified log, batted me and my mecha aways into the air.