Penitent-Chapter 230 Book 4 Ch 11: Kingfall

The door didn't explode at Michael's kick, but it did splinter where his foot landed, sending out a spray of wooden debris into the room. The king's guards were professional, and reacted quickly, attempting to move in front of their ruler, but they made it less than two steps as they began to hack and cough before Pyotr threw his fireball into the room. It flew in a perfect arc and landed right in the center of the largest concentration of guards, incinerating a number of them instantly and catching even more on fire. Their yells of surprise turned to screams of agony.

Before the fireball had even landed, Bayle had disarmed the knight nearest to him, taking his sword and leaping back toward a group of five other guards that immediately laid into their erstwhile allies as the distraction hit.

Michael ran straight for the king, whose back was still turned, hoping to take advantage of the chaos to end things quickly. He stabbed Rend forward at the man's back, obscured by his shimmering cloak, but the king spun around and raised his shield, managing to catch Rend in its center. His titled sword then whipped forward, slamming against a dozen small barriers Michael had formed around his vital points and shattering them before being stopped at his gorget.

Michael slammed his shield forward with enough strength that it would've thrown an average soldier across the room, but the king was merely pushed back two steps, allowing him to regroup.

"Assassins!" he hissed as he launched himself at Michael, his sword blurring as he sent more than a dozen strikes at him.

Michael raised his shield, instinctively deflecting the blows rather than blocking them outright, and reinforcing his defences with still more barriers. In spite of his usually ironclad defense, several of the king's strikes made it through to his armor, but none pierced it. He let out a burst of holy light and fire in the king's direction. It washed over his armor without damaging him, but it gave Michael the chance to send out some strikes of his own while the fire blinded him. Unfortunately the king's shield arm moved with such alacrity that none of the half-dozen strikes Michael sent out made it past it. The Wall was an apt name for the shield.

A bullet whizzed by and struck a bodyguard that was attempting to flank Michael, dropping the man to the floor in a metal heap. Michael risked a glance around the room to track the enemy combatants and make sure more weren't attempting to reach him. He saw Bayle and his traitor guards holding a corner from a large chunk of the loyal king's guard and Marcus firing from the hallway, a pile of three dead guards in front of him. He also noticed a large number of the king's guards on the ground, clutching at their armored chests as they hacked and coughed. He heard a buzz and saw the horrible insectoid creature that had taunted him flying directly for him, long sharp stingers protruding from her hands.

Michael couldn't turn, as the king was stepping toward him again, his sword already whipping in his direction. Before she reached him though, Pyotr slammed into her, his body launched by his titled boots allowing him to crash into her like a missile of full plate.

He was forced onto his back foot by the king's attacks. They were fast, and had enough force behind them that his arms were already shaking from the impacts blocking and parrying created. The only thing that was keeping him from being overwhelmed and his defenses being broken was that the king's attacks were simple and familiar. In fact, they were much like Michael's own. The king had received martial training that was the same as that of his knights, and he didn't seem particularly talented or stylish, which made him predictable.

Michael decided to change things up a bit. He jumped back and created barriers at the king's feet causing him to stumble as he stepped forward. Michael swung Rend at him, but shifted it to Ruin halfway through the swing. The king caught it on his shield, but since his footing was off and the blow was heavier than he'd anticipated he was forced onto his back foot. Michael followed up by creating barriers behind the king which caused him to stumble even more and Michael followed that up with even more powerful blows from his mace trying to continuously keep him off kilter.

The king roared in annoyance as Michael caught him off balance yet again and shoved his shield into Michael's maceblow with enough force that it threw his arm back. He followed it up with a powerful swordblow that Michael was forced to block the full force of with his shield, rather than deflecting it. The shield shattered, and with it, Michael's arm as he was thrown backward from the force of the blow. He hit the balcony window, glass shattering as he flew through it and skidded across until he hit the railing, a small piece of it breaking off where he hit it.

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Outside he could hear sounds of fighting all across the palace. Swords hitting shields, spells exploding against barriers, and the screams of dying men. As he pulled himself up, he was certain he recognized one of Ollie's portals opening nearby and dropping a half dozen men from the height of the balcony down to their deaths.

King Matthias coughed a bit, adjusting the sword in his hand as he walked through the shattered stained glass.

"You are strong taker." he said, taking a few more steps toward Michael. "I can see why Bayle and Crittenden thought you may be able to kill me. The Hero of Lataxia. Champion of long dead gods. You have titles and deeds near that of royalty, and even weapons and armor that might suit a prince. To me though, you're nothing. A taker who deserted from his penitence. I can't think of anything lower than that." He coughed a bit more and spat. "As a king, I will do my sacred duty, and execute you myself."

Michael laughed, pushing himself to his feet and throwing the ruins of his shield off his broken arm. The king's monologue had allowed him to check on Bayle, Pyotr, and Marcus, healing all three of them as well as Bayle's guard allies. Pyotr and the monster were engaged in an acrobatic dance primarily in the air. She flew around, launching barbs at him or striking at him with her stingers, and he dodged and leapt toward her, launching flames or cutting at her with his blade that was already covered in sickly yellow blood. Marcus was kicking yet another kingsguard off his bayonet, and Bayle and his allies were holding firm against the majority of the remaining knights.

The king glowered at him as he laughed.

Michael smiled behind his helmet. "I learned some time ago that my Penitence isn't owed to you or to Stent. It's owed to the world, and everyone in it. Honestly though, I'd probably be doing what I'm doing even without that motivation." he rolled his neck around and shifted Ruin in his hand. "You hurt my friends. You drive young men to their deaths for a senseless war. You sell out your world to cling to power." He channeled more smite across his body and focused on his broken arm and all the other pains across his body and those of the men dead or dying on the ground around them. "The gods have judged you unworthy of your crown. I am here to enact that judgement." He smiled. "I will show you the true meaning of a sacred duty." He sent all of the pain he absorbed to king Matthias.

The king cried out as he felt Michael's broken arm, the wound one of his guards was bleeding out from, the bleeding lungs of the man nearest to Bayle when he'd dropped his poison, and a dozen other wounds from across the throne room.

Michael launched himself forward and smashed Ruin into king Matthias's side, denting his titled armor and pushing him back. The king managed to rally, swinging wildly with his sword. Michael began healing himself, letting the king's attacks hit his armor anywhere that was nonlethal while swinging wildly to damage the king as much as he could. Soon both of them had wild tears and dents in their armor, but Michael was continuously healing himself and the king was slowing down.

There was a horrifying shriek and both the king and Michael broke away from one another to see Pyotr driving his sword through the king's pet monster. Her mouth was opened fully, all the way down to her neck, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. Yellow blood spilled from her throat as Pyotr raised his sword from the initial wound, roaring with fury, and dragged through her body from head to thorax.

Through the slits in his helmet, the king's eyes were wide as he looked to see that not only was his ally dead, but so were all of his guards. The door to the main hallway opened, and he looked with hope at what he thought would be reinforcements, but it was Ollie, with more than two-dozen scorched corpses behind him.

"Sorry I'm late."

While the king was distracted, Michael slammed Ruin into his knee, causing him to fall, then he kicked him backward and shifted his blade from Ruin to Rend before driving it through his wrist and into the stone behind him then kicked the king's sword away before doing the same to his shield. He retrieved his sword and readied himself for the killing blow, but hesitated.

"What are you doing?" asked Bayle, approaching along with the others.

"Don't tell me you're going to spare him, Michael. I can't stomach that," said Marcus.

Michael shook his head. "No, I'm going to kill him. What do you think would happen if we all dealt a killing blow at once though?"

The others all exchanged a glance.

"Unlike you to think so practically, brother," said Pyotr.

"How dare you!?" screamed the king defiantly before coughing, some blood spilling from the slits in his helm. He tried to push himself up, but a swift kick from Pyotr's titled boots knocked him right back down.

"Let's get that helmet off," said Marcus leaning toward him.