Tyrant’s End

Arata’s pen connected with the wall beside him, the shake of the fighting nearby doing nothing to stop him. Within a few minutes he had a basic outline drawn, the outline of a person. Plotgerät watched him work, mesmerised with the art. But, he had not progressed further, his pen ceased after the outline had been completed. For a few moments he visualised it, the life he needed to imbue into this outline to bring back his friend from the void. And, after a long inhale and a clutch of the heart, he began detailing.

Franz knew that one more hit and he wouldn't be able to stand anymore, the drops of alcohol in his system had burned away and now only fumes fired his engines. Täter looked exhausted. He hadn’t expected such resistance, even bragging as much to the Princess. She would see his power, his strength, and she would submit to him. He would become the king off the strength of his arm, and it wouldn't stop there. Every town in the east would fall to him, then he would tackle the other kingdoms of the cardinal, until no one in this world could stand against him, and every one of them bent the knee. A true ruler of the world, a true tyrant.

This world seemed to be fighting against him, despite giving him the deletion brush, something he believed was a blessing, even that was fighting against him now. But he wouldn’t give that hero a chance to use it, he was too busy making some sort of mural of Leona, or something. Franz the drunk knight stumbled around and he’d been as sober as he’d been in years. Niedlich was a problem, but even that monster was licking its wounds and hesitating. He wouldn’t falter to the world, not after he’d come this far!

The drunk knight’s vision blurred, and as they adjusted he was floored again. The scourge punched him into the ground with so much force it cracked the floor. Niedlich reacted quickly and swung its huge tail but that was blocked the barrier, chipping it at the edges. Another swing blocked again, spider webs forming in the glass-like barrier. The next, he ducked under and slammed the chipped shield into the beast’s thick fur. No response, but phase two was an expansion, rapidly growing the shield which slammed into Niedlich like a freight train. The monster jolted back, but again the Scourge changed his shield’s shape to a thin blade, and once again Arata would not allow it. The whiteout this time was aimed at Täter himself, he did well to dodge the first, but the second hit his barrier. Still, he managed to hit Niedlich hard.

Both opponents were down, struggling to move a single fingertip, and only one remained.

Arata had most of the art complete, a small section remained, but his brush would not reach, and a searing pain hit him dead in the gut, dropping him to the ground. Täter sat a top of him, and fired another punch that Arata tried to block with his arms but it felt as if his bones were cracking with each hit. Once the numbness hit, his arm dropped ever so slightly, and the Scourge nailed him with a shot right to the nose. Blood poured out as his scream burst through his lips, another shot this time to the eye. Instantly it swelled shut. He tried a retaliation, a punch to the chin but it was weak and Täter only laughed and continued his assault.

“This is the great hero of Heimstadt?!” He mocked as another shot slipped past his guard. “This is my great adversary?!” Plotgerät was distraught looking on from above, managing to launch some of the rubble at Täter but it did nothing to him. “You’re weak.” Another punch to the ribs, cracking a few. “You’re useless” another punch to the chin. “And, you’re going to die here, hero. You and your friends.”

Arata was helpless, unable to lift his arms anymore and unable to think straight. Franz was crawling slowly towards them, but he would not reach them in time. Täter clasped his hands together, as if he was holding a hammer, holding them high in the sky to crash into Arata’s skull, and crack it open as if it were an egg. It was over. “Sorry…” He mumbled.

“Stop!” She wailed, her voice piercing the veil and stopping Täter. She was on her knees, head touching the ground and pleading. “Please…” She begged. “I’ll do what you want, just, please…” Täter laughed like a maniac, dropping his hands by his side while still atop Arata. He then noticed Franz struggling, closing the distance, so he kicked him in the head as he got up just for the sake of it. “I told you.” He taunted them, his arms out wide as if he was some sort of prophet. “I told you, you’d fall for me before this day would end.”

She couldn’t respond to him but that quiet sobbing was fine for him. He continued his proud celebration, “I am glad you have seen the light, Princess, my love.”

“No.” His head spun to the prey he had beaten black and blue, the Artist that was bleeding from the mouth. “That’s not it.” He muttered.

“Ohh?” The scourge approached slowly. “How very ungrateful of you, Reinhardt. She’s given you a mercy” He picked up Arata by the collar, practically sitting him down with a deadlift. “I think you should learn when to be quiet.” His eyes were wide, the pupils a spot of ink on a paper the size of the world, his bloodlust so thick Arata could grab hold of it. “You’ve lost, Hero.”

Franz gripped the back of his jacket. “She hasn’t given in, freak.” Not liking the comment Täter swung a punch his way, but Franz continued. “We just needed some time.”

Scratches, the sound of metal scraping stone. He turned back to Arata, and the pen in his hand had a trail of ink beside it. It led to the stone wall ahead, and to the outline he had seen before…

There was nothing there…

Then, all of a sudden, he was moving.

Through the dust and pain, he coughed and waved away the air, and opened his eyes once more. There she stood.

She examined herself, feeling her skin and her hair. Tensing her muscle and balling her fist.

“Welcome back” Arata smiled.

The Scourge went white. For a magic of such heavenly origin, was reversed.

And Leona was returned.

“How… you…” Täter stuttered. “I killed you!”

“Nah.” She responded. “Haven’t you heard the word, Täter? Heroes never die.” Golden eyes bled into red, fangs and claws formed, and she dropped to all fours like a beast. And in an instant she was gone again. Then, she broke through the shield, and slammed the Scourge through the wall.

He could only crawl through it again, his face twisted with pain, blood running down his face. His barrier had done nothing to stop the attack, now it was falling to pieces. “It’s too weak…” He realised. “No energy… so its thin enough to break…”. He could only desperately save a small piece of it, the size of a dagger but as thick as it was previously.

Leona pounced again, and this time the barrier managed to block her attack, but he couldn’t place it in the air between them anymore, he needed to react to her attacks and block with his own reflexes. It made it easy for Leona to move around and to dodge the cutting attacks that fluttered through the air. Like a wraith she danced in and out of eyeshot, disappearing one moment and returning the next to get another hit in. He timed his attack, throwing the blade at where she would be, but she managed to avoid it. And, as his eye followed the barrier, further along he saw Arata. Still lifelessly still, but in his left hand his pen, and the right, the whiteout. Fury erupted from him, and that barrier rushed back to him.

The anger lifted him to his feet and to an all out sprint towards the god’s fluid. Leona swung around like a gnat but his barrier blocked the attacks, as if it was sentient. He reached Arata, and pulled the whiteout from his hand, turning to face the now still Leona. He had his weapon of destruction. His confidence returned.

“Looks like… you only live twice!” He growled, and as the brush swiped over her, the future played in his head. The death of the trio, Plotgerät’s compliance, and the golden crown atop his head.

Leona did not disappear.

Desperately he swiped more, yet nothing happened. White at the deletion tool itself, he turned back to Arata who was in and out of consciousness. “What’s happening?!” He screamed. And behind him, the man that had been beaten by the Scourge throughout all of this, the man who could not give in for the sake of his love… held the real whiteout.

Arata defiantly lifted his pen, pointing to Franz, and Täter followed the gesture, his soul leaving his body as he realised.

“Gotcha” Arata muttered. And like that… Franz deleted Täter the Scourge.

“Tale - Save the Princess. Complete.”