Chapter 41

Hero to Zero P4

Yellow powdery granite besprinkled into dust, out and away from the shifting fibers of my enchanted grass blade, that was once built for flight, now altered to something lethal. It was indicative of me to build another contraption engineered for violence, without the comprehension to grasp the finality of its purpose. My dreams, ambition, inventions, all were a means to an end, and that end would always involve death. Which in my audacity, I overlooked to my detriment. Build a mecha, a machine, with the underlying purpose of war. Build a weapon, a tool, with the underlying purpose of murder. I am an idea machine without really thinking. I am the cold inventor of death, and I am the pilot to execute it, and I say I have decent morals. Oh woe to me with all the songs of violence---I had sung, for I am truly the epitome of a hypocrite.

The Duke’s red ruddy expression, paled a few shades down into white when he noticed my vibrating grass switchblade at his throat. He swallowed a gulp, as he peered down the eyes of a small man, fueled with rage and disgust. Disgust at myself, and rage at the world. But there was something else the Duke hadn't noticed, it was my resolve to end the charade of my moral dignity and my fight against the storm. I am ready to do what needs to be done, I am ready---to become a monster---for my friends.

“Tell-” yellow powder slipped into my mouth, as I started to speak. I coughed and gagged for a moment. “Tell everyone,” I held up my free hand for a pause, as I coughed out another gob of yellow muck. “Tell everyone to stop.”

Breaking the tension with my disastrous threat, riddled with coughs and gags, the Duke eyed me bewilderingly. “Tell-What-who?”

“Tell everyone to stop, or I’ll slice your head from your body.” I threatened, shifting the blade back and forth from his neck to exaggerate myself decapitating him. Aware of his current straits, a droplet of sweat slid down the man’s forehead, down to his plump chin to dribble atop the vibrating flat of my grass switchblade.

“How do I know that thing can cut me?”

Slightly, I shifted the blade a millimeter in the man’s flabby jowls, instantly causing the flesh and sinuses to split and bleed from the small vibrating cut.

“Ugh! Okay, okay. Stop! Halt---everyone halt what you are doing!”

Tense, I swiveled my head to see all the participants in the circular room---gawking at me. Osferth's face was in consternation, as he tried to puzzle the reason of why a little grass man was threatening the Duke of his lands with a grass leaf.

“My grace, It’s grass..?”

“I know that you fool! It can cut me!”

“If you say so...My grace.”

The Duke glared at his wizard lackey for a moment, then shifted his eyes down to me atop his shoulder. “What are your demands, you little pipsqueak?”

‘Pipsqueak!’

“You fat gob of a blistering priggish foof with a stool bag.” I mumbled under my breath.

“What’s that?”

“You tell your men to drop their weapons and get on their knees! Don’t do anything stupid!”

The ruddy red expression of the Duke had soured trying to recollect my first small mutterings. Motioning another exaggerated swing to his neck, in a near panic he swiveled his head towards his retinue. “Everyone drop your weapons and get on your knees!” He said, his face mixed with fear and consternation.

The clangs and clatters of enchanted swords hitting the stone floor, de-escalated the tenseness I felt standing atop this fat Duke’s shoulder. The jelly in his exterior, made me shift my footing atop him for a more stable stance. I can imagine myself slipping and falling off the flabby curvatures of his shoulder If I don’t concentrate on my footing.

“Now repeat what I say...Call out Sera.” I instructed the perspiring Duke.

“Sera?”

“Louder!”

“Sera!”

After sheathing her weapons, my mecha Amelia mechanically strutted past the kneeling soldiers around her. Sera instructed Amelia to kick a few soldiers aside to path to us.

“Pick up Art and get out of here!” I squeakily instructed, making the Duke wince at my high pitch voice.

“Pick up Art and get out of here.” The Duke repeated.

“Not you!”

The Duke abashed, closed his mouth, as I tried to soothe the frustration that was building inside of me. Sera motioned Amelia to pick up the golden furred backpack beside the cot, scooping the wailing Art inside its furred enclosure. When all was said and done, my mecha stood up tall, for Sera within the visor to eye me speculatively. She was hesitant to leave me alone with the Duke and his men, but it was the only way for her and Art to escape the castle and city without immediate pursuit.

“You think I’ll let you and the child escape?”

I motioned another millimeter cut to the man’s flabby throat. He yelped and cowardly whimpered, feeling and seeing that his threat was not helping his situation.

“Sink, please, there must be another way.”

“Don’t worry, follow the plan. I’ll get out of here, and rendezvous with you guys,” I said, staring through the interior darkness within the visor. With my look, I try to convey a nonchalant attitude to Sera, so she could null her reluctance to leave my side.

‘Come on Sera, get out of here. This was not the time to dawdle.'

Sera stirred my mecha for a nod. She had finally resolved herself to agree with the latter half of my plan. She swiveled Amelia around with the baby in the backpack, peering down at me. Giving the child a freehanded wave, I watched my charge and my mecha; where my friends were situated inside, pathing their way through the kneeling men, and out into the exterior hallway of the stone tower. Watching the last shimmer of Amelia’s plate and the blue-eyed gaze of a child, not comprehending the nature of his world, I gave out another melancholy smile at my exiting friends.

I was alone now. The last small man in a room full of giants and I was unafraid. Shrugging my gallantry aside, I focused my gaze at the Duke who grew another expression on his drooping face. It was the malignant outrageous glare of a man, witnessing the departure of his ambition. With a curse ready to be spewed out from his lips, he turned to me with an insidious glare.

“You think I’ll let you escape? And your friends too?”

Shrugging, I stayed silent.

“This situation won’t last. And you will most likely die. Make it easier for yourself and surrender.”

“Says the person with grass on his throat,” I remarked.

It was vital for me to give Sera and the gang enough time to escape from here, so I continued on tarrying forth with this strange hostage situation. The human spectators around had grown perplexed expressions across their brows as they scrutinized me above their Duke’s shoulder. It must have been a weird vision, seeing their Duke in his obesity, arguing and threatening a small grass man who was brandishing a grass leaf threateningly at his throat. They are probably pondering their murky existence in this fantasy world built with small folks and dragons. I cringed at the thought.

“Pathetic small folks. Can’t even comprehend how totally small and weak you are.”

“I may be small, and weak. But I’m definitely not you.”

The rage simmering inside the Duke’s eyes blazed at my inference.

“You have foiled my ambition, my dream. You will die if it’s the last thing I’ll do.”

Disgusted at his threat, I replied “You think lowly of your grand-nephew, even threatening to murder him. Your threats, ambition, and dreams mean nothing to me!”

My face snarling, I stared back at the porcine man, my glare interpreting the utter hatred I felt towards this giant. “You’re an adult, and you should have known better.”

“Known better?” The Duke questioningly sneered.

“The old should always look after the young.” I declared, gripping tightly the grass branch of my glider.

“What utter hogwash.”

I was about to reply back when abruptly I heard something that was barely audible in its mutterings. Hearing the strange mantra of verbal sounds, I swiveled my head to try to find the source. It was Osferth, kneeling below the Duke, muttering an incantation of sorts. Cursing my vigilance which was easily distracted in the absorption of my rhetoric, I tried to figure out a way to stop the incantation.

“Tell your man to stop!” I threatened the Duke.

He gave me an insidious smirk when he noticed his lackey incanting a spell.

‘Not enough time.’

With no other way to stop the mysterious spell from activating, I opted for my final play. Gripping the gritted determination of two lifetimes, and the adamant resolve of one. I acted. In all my moral quandaries, flights of fancy, and heroic posturing, I had determined in the interior of my conscience, that I did not regret this action I called forth. Recalling a quote from a fictional character I had admired from a memory long ago, I shifted and swiveled my waist. Holding tightly the branch of the glider, I swang with my whole body in a twist, decapitating the Duke’s head from his body. Blood congealed and burst out into a fountain, as I jumped down away from the spatterings.

Congratulations!

You Have Leveled Up!

+1 to Skill Points

‘The only one who should kill are the ones prepared to be killed.’ I quoted Lelouch’s epitaph in the forefront of my mind, dodging a downpour of crimson streams against my abhorrence. Three new prompts opened up, which I brushed aside. I had no time to give attention to the new prompts.

‘This world is full of killers and murderers.’ Landing my feet onto solid stone, I spun to hear the final words of Osferth’s incantation.

Suddenly a gust of dark waves mixed with air, burst out from Osferth’s person. The magical currents hurled me off my feet and into the air. All the human giants around me suffered a less extreme outcome, which was tumbling out and away, being pushed by the magical air that was summoned from Osferth's core. I landed with a thud against the lower section of the stone wall, which was circumferencing the circular room. Except for one section, where there was an opened window that showed the silhouette of the port city outside.

Groaning from the impact, I stood up, to then stare up at Osferth at the center, standing over the Duke’s headless body with a convivial expression. He looked pleased yet disgruntled at the same time, which didn’t fit what I had predicted he’d express.

“What a waste of time, but I’m glad I don’t have to simper and debase myself to this gluttonous fool any longer.”

“No loyalty amongst villains.” I winced, as I stood up from my tumble.

Osferth turned to face me, his face fastidious to keep the resentment he shared for everything, including me.

“You have thwarted the Great Lord’s plan. So you must die!”

The human soldiers shook their heads from the daze they underwent after Osferth’s area of effect spell. They then all cumbersomely stood up whilst gathering their dropped swords. Horrified and aggrieved at the loss of their Duke, they stood ready, undeterred from seeking retribution for their liege.

“Kill the miscreant!”

They all charged me, a small man against dozens of giants. But unbeknownst to the rage, they felt for me, they avoided the fact that I would be hard prey to catch, for I was small and agile. I vaulted off and in between their legs, dodging a few stomps and swipes as I scurried forth beneath them. It was nerve-racking, avoiding enchanted blades that could cleave me into two, and scampering away from metal soles that could squash me into mush.

“Kill him!” Osferth ordered. “Kill that small plant creature!”

Avoiding a downward slash and piercing strike, I leaped underneath a man’s center, my vibrating switchblade ostensibly upwards. When I exited out between his legs, the man shrieked like someone who had his scrotum torn asunder. I grimace, not wanting to glance back at the massacre I unknowingly committed.

So like a tailless mongoose, I slithered and scurried beneath armored giants, slicing off ankles and limbs when I had the opportune time to. It was indicative of me, to comprehend fighting such a small personage such as I in a confined spacing. Especially encumbered with armor. Must have been a frustrating and nerve-racking experience to fight something so lethal and small.

“You are nothing!” Osferth cussed, his voice full of venom. “My Great Lord, will stomp you down! Like the grass weed you are!”

Dodging a hefty stomp, I spun midair to slice an ankle with my vibrating edge. The craft song Sera had bound to this grass leaf was low in duration. So I had to activate the active skill with a tune, every time the vibrating hum had stopped. I was growing tired from the constant jumps and twirls I motioned when pathing my way beneath the humans. One fatal slip could end my dance. So, I had to be cautious and restrain my energy from committing too deeply into a swing.

“You’re nothing but a small grass weed, against the giants of your betters! Nothing but a stubborn shrub that refuses to be stomped! A weed, and infestation!”

Fortuitously for me, the stone tower commenced to groan and creak, shifting and streaming granite powder down the wooden ceiling. The audible sounds made everyone halt in instinctive shock, except for me; who was nearing my destination. In one giant leap, I reached the stony platform of the opened glass window of the circular tower.

“You know--you know what they say about weed.” I panted.

Osferth, unperturbed at the ceiling that was pouring dust and limestone granite into the confined room. With a question in his expression, he swiveled to peer down at me, who was standing and panting near the window.

“What do they say about weed?”

“You get stoned.” Grinning up at Osferth, I waited for the foreboding tremors to become prevalent to all the bewildered participants within.

‘Seriously, did I just say that?’

When the tremors came, stones started to dislodge. The floor shifted and slanted to the side as the tower began to fall. Every giant that was not expecting such a change in their footing, slipped and skirted to one side whilst hollering and screaming in utter despair. Those who had managed to garner able footing avoided the loss of their balance. They tried to run out of the tilted room; but it was all for naught, for it was already too late, the stone tower was already in free fall.

Thanking Peb for accepting the instruction I gave him earlier---in destroying the stone supports that kept the stone tower upright, I leaped out of the window with my glider. In the crunching noises of stone collapsing and clattering with one another, I heard Osferth’s dismaying shrieks as he also fell to the weight of stones falling to the laws of gravity.

Clenching my teeth, I soared out through limestone clouds past the collapsing reverberation of the stone tower falling below. It was a surreal experience, flying above and away from the disaster I had prompted. Whilst the coastal breeze brushed the yellow and granite powder off my person; showing the world the pubescent green of my heritage, I pondered where I should land. Granted, I did not have a grass parachute, however, with my reasonably high stats, I was confident enough to withstand the damage from my landing.

Soaring past the stone walls of the inner castle, I searched downwards for a location I could land. Discovering a rich verdant garden in one of the affluent manors down below, I tilted down my weight to gravitate to my new destination. After my descent and my crippling cries of “Oh god, oh god!” I landed skipping into a shrub of lilacs, their vines shorn for picking whilst petals scattering in my wake.

Brushing the petals and crunched leaves that had languished across my crumpled person, I groaned. Standing up, I spun to inspect the snapped form of my glider. Wincing, at the torn wings and broken center frame, I sighed deeply. With repair in mind, I walked out of the underbrush. I sucked in a breath. The plants around here did not seem dead at all. ‘Good,’ because the sour aroma of dead plants invading my senses would have prompted me to gag. Avoiding the irrational recesses of my mind of morbid things, I had recently done, I clambered on looking for the parts to replace the broken pieces of my glider.

Snapping the small branches off a large lilac branch, I heard the sounds of stones being crunched and gnawed upon. I shifted my face at the audible noise with a grin. It was Peb, walking towards me, holding a rubble of limestones between both hands. Headbanging Pax, the baby grass plant was wrapped around his arms, its roots deep within Peb’s gray grass fibered shirt.

“How did you find me? And why didn’t you leave with Sera?”

“Ugh.” Peb crunched a morsel of stone into grime, then answered. “Don’t wanna leave you alone.”

Smiling at him, I shrugged. “Oh Peb, pebbly Peb. Thanks for the company. And just in time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah Peb, my sidekick, we are going to build a helicopter---to get out of this city.”

“A he-li-cop-ter?” Peb parsing out the strange name.

“Yes, yes. Now go get me more branches. I need to make a grass frame.”

Shrugging, Peb went forth to another shrub of lilacs to gather more branches. Besides, two people building is faster than one. And I needed to catch up with Sera and the gang. She probably had reached the bard and Gan, by now. The idea of building a helicopter was practical, accounting for our weight and size, all I needed to build was a circular axis fidget spinner along with thickly pleated grass as its wings. It was a feasible build, expedient in its practicality.

Shifting my focus to the System's prompts that had appeared after executing the Duke, I called them into my peripherals.

Congratulations!

You have reached the Next Tier of Your Classification!

Please select!

Class: Grass Musician. Through a miracle and temperance of sound, the individual can bind more varied noises and mimicries into any fauna or flora. Grass Musicians allow the individual to stretch the limits of their musical bindings into a choir of orchestral sounds. Class: Grass Composer. With a movement and a flick, the individual can direct any grass to their whims. Creating new music and songs on the fly, which the fauna and flora would adhere to. Grass Composers allow the individual at a distance to direct grass to any which way they want. Class: Grass Dancer. With a movement and a twirl, the individual or in this case, dancer, can convey intentions and instructions to their grass partners. The fauna or flora will be bound to their partner as their dance partners, conveying the instructions and dances the Grass Dancer imposes.

Considering each Classification closely, I contemplated the hidden possibilities and skills that would apply for each bridging class. I was confident that the skills I currently have now would not change, and that I would garner new skills and maybe new stats boons when I select my new class. But, I had to consider and research what role would benefit me the most in my mech builds. Grass Musician seems to be the most desirable avenue I should regard. If I can bind other types of fauna or flora besides grass into my mecha, then my builds and constructs would improve and vary in design.

On the other hand, Grass Composer can instantly make me build grass constructions on the fly. Picturing myself---waving my hands around, and building a grass construct on a whim was a very enticing gimmick. Ignoring the last Classification, because I don’t see myself dancing with grass. I’m already singing to them, dancing? Nope. I’m a terrible dancer.

Musing the System's new boons, I swiveled my head to a strange sound. Searching, I saw a cloud of dust fuming the surrounding garden, there were flecks of glinting metal within---reflecting the afternoon ray. Tasting a peculiar metal on my tongue, I searched for Peb who was snapping off twigs from a flexible branch, whilst munching a stone while he worked. Abruptly he dropped the branch whilst dribbling out the muck of crunched stone in his mouth. He appeared to be nauseous, his once greyish stony complexion turned opal at my approach.

Peb stumbled and fell. Running, I caught him before he smacked into the ground. “What is wrong? Peb?”

Peb looked up at me, his mouth gasping as he began to grow paler than before. “Peb?”

A dizzy spell caught me shifting into vertigo. In hazy sights, I peered down the form of Peb, blurred tears obstructing my foggy visage of him. The nauseating sensation of a headache crept into my skull, as I try to wobbly place Peb bedridden on the ground. “Peb? Are you okay?” I feebly slurred, my impairment teetering me to collapse next to him. My knees below his head, I tried to shake him awake; but only the hazy quiet---answered, from his reclining form.

I heard a familiar hoarse voice holler. “Did we get them!?”

Trying to speculate where I heard that voice before, I collapsed atop my friend, my sights closing as my body weakens within me. ‘Where did I hear that voice…?’ Against my rational thought, and the instinctive call for action, I unwillingly embraced the vast emptiness of unconsciousness.