Burning the Odds

The forest outside the city walls was draped in moonlight, its trees swaying under a cold, whispering wind. Shadows crawled over the roots like living things. In the distance, the faint sounds of human laughter and the clink of mugs drifted from the sleepy town, oblivious to the danger lurking beyond the walls.

On a ridge overlooking the front gates, a squad of demons crouched low in the darkness. Their eyes gleamed like coals in the night.

A tall figure emerged from the treeline. His black armour was jagged, like shards of obsidian jammed together, and two curling ram-like horns crowned his head. His crimson eyes scanned the city walls, and a slow, predatory smirk tugged at his lips.

???: "Perfect. The humans are quiet… asleep and unsuspecting."

Behind him, the lower demons shifted, fidgeting with excitement, gripping jagged axes, cleavers, and rusted swords.

Demon: "Captain… why attack the front gate? Isn’t that… loud?"

The horned figure rumbled a laugh, deep and gravelly.

???: "Exactly. Who would dare approach openly at night? By the time they even wake up-"

He lifted one massive, armoured boot, planting it firmly on a fallen log. Instantly, the warband fell silent.

???: "-they’ll already be corpses."

He slowly hefted a black-iron axe, pointing its chipped head toward the walls.

"KRUUUUK!"

The cry rolled across the forest like thunder.

The demons answered, pounding weapons against shields and the earth.

"KRUK! KRUK! KRUK!"

The moon vanished behind a cloud. Torchlight flickered across the trees, casting red and gold shadows, as if the forest already blazed.

Tonight, blood would flow. Or so they thought.

The distant chanting faded as the scene shifted inside the city’s protective walls.

Dermott staggered down the cobblestone street, fighting to stay upright. His enormous golden sword, nearly taller than he was, swung in lazy, looping arcs.

Paddy ducked beneath one such swing, swaying like a leaf in the breeze, and grinned despite the chaos.

Paddy: "Missed me, you shiny bastard!"

Dermott: "Stand… stand still… and let me… hero… properly!"

The pair wobbled drunkenly in a clumsy circle, a pitiful parody of a duel.

A couple of brave tavern-goers peeked out the door.

Tavern Guy #1: "Two silver on the drunk with the lamp."

Tavern Guy #2: "No way. The prince’ll flatten him. Three silver he just falls on him."

Dermott’s next swing clipped a water trough, sending a wave across the street. Horses in the nearby stable neighed in protest, hooves clattering against wood.

Paddy staggered back, shaking his wet sleeves.

Paddy: "Your aim’s worse than a one-eyed farmer with a rifle!"

Dermott’s eye twitched.

Dermott: "You dare… mock… the royal blade?!"

He planted his feet, wobbling, and raised the sword high with both hands.

Dermott: "Fine! If my normal swings can’t defeat you… THEN WITNESS… THE POWER… OF A TRUE HERO!"

The golden runes along his blade glowed pitifully, like a dying candle. He shook the sword vigorously.

Paddy: "…Are you talking to your sword?"

The runes suddenly flared bright gold.

Dermott: "HAH! See?! She loves me!"

He swung in a wild, sweeping arc.

FWOOOM!

A wave of heat exploded outward, igniting a hanging banner and scorching a line of cobblestone black. Paddy’s hair blew back, and he stumbled.

Paddy: "You could’ve just said you wanted a rematch in the morning!"

The sword began to hum, a deep, bone-rattling sound. Shadows danced wildly on the walls as the golden light intensified. Dermott’s drunken grin faltered.

Dermott: "…Uh-oh."

Balloon: "…Uh-oh? What do you mean, uh-oh?!"

Sparks leapt off the blade, and Dermott’s hands shook. Sweat built up on his brow.

Dermott: "Once I start… I can’t stop it! Shit! Shit! Shit! What do I do!?"

Paddy: "Maybe put it down?"

Dermott: "It doesn’t work like that!"

FWOOOM!

The sword unleashed a blazing wave of fire that roared down the street like a dragon. Windows rattled. Villagers screamed.

Paddy's instincts flared alive as the roaring blaze barreled toward him, heat licking at his skin and setting the hairs on his arms trembling. The acrid scent of smoke burned his nostrils. Paddy’s knuckles whitened on the lamp, muscles burning with effort. His jaw clenched tight as he swung the lamp with all his might.

CLONG!

The heavy metal of the lamp struck the fiery wave with a ringing clang that echoed through the street. Particles exploded, crackling like miniature fireworks, as the fireball ricocheted off the lamp’s iron frame. The scorching wind slammed into Paddy’s face, singeing his cheeks and blowing sweat into his eyes. 

The flaming mass bounced away, careening like a blazing baseball toward the front gates, leaving a trail of smoke and burning embers in its wake.

Paddy: "…Well, that’s one way to clear the street."

Outside the walls…

Kruk’s warband advanced, torches raised, chanting in rhythm.

"KRUUUK! KRUUUK! KRUUUK!"

Kruk: "The gates may be open, but be careful! Don’t wake anyone before we’re insi-"

FWOOOOOM-BOOOOM!

The fireball struck.

The gates erupted in a storm of fire, splinters flying like arrows. Demons screamed, some rolling in the dirt while others ran aflame into the forest.

Kruk stumbled back, covered in mud and soot.

Kruk: "They must have known we were planning this! Shit!"

Demons: "KRUK! RETREEEEAT!"

The forest fell silent, save for the sound of burning wood and fleeing feet.

The next morning, the great hall reeked of smoke and stress.

Paddy and Prince Dermott knelt before the king, clothes singed, hair frazzled.

The king’s gaze was a sharpened blade, slicing through their excuses.

King: "Explain this mess."

Dermott straightened, puffing his chest.

Dermott: "Demons, Father. They attacked at night. We… heroically repelled them."

He gestured toward the ruined gates.

Paddy nodded solemnly.

Paddy: "Aye. Nasty demons. Spitting fire and all that."

The king’s eyebrow twitched sharply.

King: "And yet, only my gate lies in ruins."

He leaned in, voice sharp and dry

King: "Two 'heroes'... and all you’ve done is barbecue my front door"

He slammed his fist on the armrest, torches flickering.

King: "Guards!"

He barked sharply.

King: "Take him back to his chambers. And make sure he doesn’t fall off the stairs this time."

Two burly guards stepped forward, gripping Dermott under each arm. The prince protested, slurring words that barely made sense, but the guards heaved him upright and began to escort him away. Dermott kicked and whined, like a spoiled boy who was denied his favourite chocolate.

The king didn’t look away, voice cold.

King: "Now, Paddy. You swore to bring down both Athyre and Demon empires. Tell me everything. No more distractions."

Paddy opened his mouth, then shut it again.

Paddy: "…Er. The demons… ran away?"

The king’s lip curled into a cruel smirk.

King: "Then get on it. I want plans. Victories. Not more drunken disasters."

Outside the hall, Paddy slumped against the castle wall, staring at the sky.

Paddy: "How am I supposed to topple two empires? I can barely survive a drunk prince!"

Balloon leaned on a barrel, grinning and jingling a pouch of coins.

Balloon: "Easy. Get rich. Hire mercenaries, mages, every idiot with a sword. Let them do the dirty work."

Paddy: "…Sounds expensive."

Balloon: "Good. Because I know a way to get very rich, very fast."

She leaned closer, lowering her voice.

Balloon: "There’s a noble buying slaves in the empire. His manor? Empty. Full of loot."

Paddy: "…And we’re gonna rob him?"

Balloon smirked, eyes glinting.

Balloon: "No, no, no…"

She chuckled darkly.

Balloon: "We’re gonna perform heroic justice."

They both burst into a low, wicked laugh that echoed through the courtyard, already plotting their next misadventure.

Deep in the forest, a charred branch snapped under a heavy, armoured boot.

Kruk glared at the city, smoke still curling from the destroyed gate. His crimson eyes burned with cold rage.

Kruk: "So… they have countermeasures. Hmph. No matter."

A lesser demon limped up, tail still smoking.

Demon: "Captain… what now?"

Kruk’s jagged grin split his soot-streaked face.

Kruk: "The new magic is ready. The weapon no human has faced before."

He lifted his axe slowly, eyes gleaming.

Kruk: "Next time… we’ll burn their walls from the inside out. They won’t have a chance to laugh, or live."