Tavern of Witchita

21 | A false ruler

Releasing a chorus of battle cries, the group of royal fighters charges to the trio, their swords, and spears ready for combat. If the king orders, they have no choice but to follow.

An enemy brings up his sword, plunging it down to the witch.

A clank resonates within the throne room as Norman stands in front of Narra, his sword trying to counter the enemy's.

Narra looks at Norman in gratitude.

'Narra, focus.'

A grunt breaks out of Norman's throat. He shoves the countered sword away, heaving it further.

The soldier is pulled back and replaced by another. Before he knew it, there are three in total surrounding him and he's far from Horns and Narra now.

He growls, sweat lacing down his forehead as his stomach ties into knots.

"Hey hey!" Horns teases the opponents.

A guard hurls himself along with his sword towards the demon. Horns reacts quickly, kneeling and sliding his kick on the soldier's leg as he stumbles.

The demon turns his head and a soldier goes after him, too late to react fast, the sword of the enemy is a mere meter away from him.

His hand clenches the tip of the blade before it could touch his face, finding his demonic strength useful.

The enemy stares in surprise. He pushes the sword deeper.

Horns smirks, his hand bleeding from clasping the tip of the blade. And in the span of a moment, he jabs the soldier's stomach, taking him down.

Narra clasps her hands together. Her words come out in mumbles and a nearby table is hurled towards an enemy.

The witch flinches at the injury and turns away to face the bastard of a king.

"Hey! Pighead!" Her call reeks of resentment, and her voice hoarse from exhaustion.

The king turns to face her with no interest.

A noise sounding like a growl comes from her throat, her glare deeply placed. "I've read the letter. You aren't in the royal bloodline of this kingdom, aren't you?"

The king holds a look of surprise, which then turns to disgust.

"What nonsense," He scoffs like a spoiled squire.

"I could've killed you off years ago. Letting you live a little longer was the least I could do for Witchita's service."

Before Narra could go on with talking, she hears Horns shout.
"Narra, at 10 o'clock!"

The witch's head darts to the side as her sight meets with an armored man. She mumbles a phrase and the carpet below them rises, wrapping itself around the squirming soldier.

Narra pants, her knees giving out. Her breath is heavy and her heart pounds like a drum. Sweat trickles down her forehead, the back of her hair sticking to her neck. Gross.

Her gaze averts to Norman who struggles to fight off three soldiers. Tired, she shouts to him.

"Norman!"

Horns manages to slip out of the batch of soldiers surrounding him as he rushes to the traveler. The demon drives his fist into an enemy's head, knocking him unconscious.

Looks like they can rely on the strongest one for now.

Narra feels a brute force thrust her into the floor, her head and torso colliding with the ground. She grunts in the sharp pain of the impact. The soldier above her continues to push her down, all while she squirms relentlessly.