章 90: Chapter 80
Merlin and Balthazar burst into the inner courtyard, their eyes locking onto Takmet and his army of red-turbaned warriors. The courtyard, filled with tension and the smell of dust and sweat, seemed to shrink as the imminent battle loomed. Takmet, though a coward at heart, understood that Memnon's fall would strip away his life of luxury. In a desperate attempt to retain his power, he had gathered his men to quell the insurrection outside.
Takmet's face contorted with rage as he spotted the duo. "Get those bastards, kill them!" he roared, spittle flying from his mouth.
The red-turbaned warriors, swords gleaming, charged towards Merlin and Balthazar with fierce determination. The sound of their battle cries echoed off the stone walls of the courtyard.
Balthazar drew his sword, the blade reflecting the light of the setting sun. "There are too many of them," he muttered, gripping his weapon tightly.
Merlin calmly rolled up his sleeves, revealing the Ten Rings. The intricate engravings on the rings lit up with a mesmerizing blue and purple glow, the light coursing through the veins of his arms. "Don't worry," he said, a confident smile playing on his lips. "I'll thin out the group."
With a flourish, Merlin extended his arms, and the rings transformed into a glowing, segmented whip, crackling with blue energy. He swung the whip with precision, the segments moving with fluid, snake-like motions. The whip created sweeping arcs of blue light as it sliced through the air.
He swung the colossal chain in a wide arc, he threw five of the rings, which linked together by blue energy to form a spinning energy disc. The disc spun rapidly, radiating an intense blue glow that illuminated the courtyard.
The linked rings shot forward, cutting through the ranks of the red-turbaned warriors with devastating force. The spinning disc hummed with power, and sparks of blue light flickered around its edges as it tore through armor and flesh.
Bodies were sent flying through the air, armor shattered and weapons scattered. The chain continued its path, carving a swath of destruction through Takmet's ranks, each strike accompanied by a resonant boom and a shockwave that rippled through the ground of courtyard. They were thrown back, tumbling like ragdolls.
Many of the soldiers fell lifeless, struck down by the relentless energy disc. Some lay injured, groaning in pain, while a few managed to leap out of its deadly path, among them Takmet himself. Scrambling to his feet, Takmet's eyes were wild with fear, but desperation fueled his determination.
The surviving soldiers, though battered and bloodied, staggered to their feet. Fear was etched on their faces, but Takmet's roar of command cut through their terror. "Kill him! Do not allow him to rest!" he bellowed, his voice cracking with desperation.
The first guard lunged at Merlin, sword gleaming in the sunlight. With a swift motion, Merlin raised his arm, the rings glowing brighter. As the sword struck, a pale grey energy pulse radiated from the rings, creating a shockwave that reverberated through the air. The guard's sword shattered upon impact, and the force of the shockwave sent him stumbling backward.
With a flick of his wrist, Merlin directed the rings' power into his fist. He punched the nearest guard with such force that the man was lifted off his feet and hurled several meters away, crashing into a market stall. The crowd gasped, witnessing the sheer might of Merlin's enhanced strength.
Another guard charged at Merlin from the side, but Merlin was ready. He grabbed the man by his tunic and, with a powerful heave, launched him across the street. The guard flew through the air like a ragdoll, landing with a bone-crunching thud against the cobblestones.
Two more guards attacked simultaneously, their swords aimed at Merlin's chest. Merlin raised his arms, and the rings emitted another grey shockwave, blocking the strikes and sending the guards reeling. Before they could recover, he swung his arm in a wide arc, the rings trailing light. The force of the blow sent one guard crashing into the other, their bodies slamming into a stone wall with deadly impact, killing them instantly.
Merlin turned to face the remaining guards, his eyes glowing with determination. He extended his arms, and the rings pulsed with pale grey energy. With a surge of power, he unleashed a series of energy blasts. The pulses shot forward, hitting the guards with unerring precision. Each blast created a shockwave on impact, sending the guards flying back and leaving them incapacitated on the ground.
Merlin stood tall amidst the chaos, his eyes catching the movement of three more red-turbaned warriors rushing toward him with fierce determination.
Merlin's gaze hardened as he raised his arms, the Ten Rings gleaming with an otherworldly light. With a swift, fluid motion, he shot the rings towards the advancing enemies. They traveled at incredible speeds, streaks of blue, purple, and transparent light trailing behind them like the tails of comets or shooting stars.
The rings, with their intricate engravings glowing, were a blur of lethal beauty.
The first ring struck its target with pinpoint accuracy, releasing a slight concussive shockwave upon impact. The force was accompanied by a burst of energy that rippled through the air, creating a visible wave of distortion. The unfortunate warrior was sent flying backwards, his body twisting through the air before crashing into a stone wall with a sickening thud.
The second ring found its mark almost simultaneously, hitting the next warrior square in the chest. The impact was like a thunderclap, the concussive force lifting the man off his feet and propelling him several meters back. His weapon flew from his grasp, clattering uselessly on the ground as he landed in a heap, unconscious.
The third ring completed the deadly trio, striking the final warrior in rapid succession. The burst of energy rippled through his armor, the shockwave throwing him into the air. He tumbled head over heels before slamming into the ground, his body motionless and broken.
The rings, having completed their destructive task, arced back through the air, moving through the air with graceful, almost sentient movements. Their trajectories were perfectly aligned, an intricate dance that would bring them back to their master.
As they sped through the air, the rings emitted trails of blue and purple light, streaks that lingered momentarily in their wake.
Just before reaching Merlin, the rings slowed down slightly. The intense light from their engravings grew even brighter, the intricate symbols glowing with a fierce energy.
With a final burst of light, the rings settled back onto Merlin's forearms with a resounding, metallic click. The engravings pulsed once more before fading, the trails of light dissipating into the night.
Merlin then looked at Balthazar" Can I leave this to you , my friend?"
The Nubian smiled grimly. "You go—friend. I'll take these bastards on." Here and there in the half destroyed palace inner yard, the surviving guards were picking themselves up, regrouping.
As Merlin ran to find Memnon. While Balthazar raises his sword with eager anticipation,"All right then.who dies first?" as he cuts down one enemy after another.
But he looked around for Takmet, that cowardly traitor. But couldn't find him, he then spotted Takmet
Takmet, riding a night-black stallion up yard. He holds lance with a hook that curls from it's point.He jabs it at Balthazar who rolls at the last second. Balthazar climbs painfully to his knees.
A man on foot—a badly wounded one at that— meeting a horseman's lance with a sword was by all logic doomed to failure. And, as if proof of that wisdom, Takmet thrust his lance expertly and caught, with its hooked tip, the Nubian by his calf.
Takmet jerked upward, taking Balthazar's leg out from under him; the bandit king's other foot went with it, and he went smashing backward into a stone wall, sliding down to sit awkwardly on the corridor floor. On his backside now, bleeding, breathing hard, Balthazar was cornered, the smirking Takmet looming over him from his saddle. As the prince's horse trotted almost casually up to him, Balthazar raised his hands in surrender.
Takmet's smirk disappeared and a smoldering rage turned into a blaze rivaling the one in the palace around them. "Force me to kneel before you? What gives you such gall, Nubian dog? What gives you the right to ask a prince to kneel before such rabble?'
And the furious Takmet drove the lance forward, aiming between those massive raised hands ... ... both of which caught the lance, and held it fast. Takmet's eyes widened, his mouth dropped open.
Balthazar's eyes burned into whatever soul the wretch in the saddle still possessed. And he answered the prince's question: "What gives me the gall? ... About two hundred pounds' advantage, traitor."
And with a might few men could match, Balthazar yanked that lance, lifting Takmet off the saddle as if he were weightless, sending the slender prince flying... ... straight into a stone wall, where—as one might predict—he hit hard, like an insect into the helmet of a charging warrior. He slid down the stones, as if every bone in his body had been crushed into a puree, and puddled there, waiting for Balthazar.
It was not a long wait. The Nubian, with renewed strength, strode over, hardly limping now. Somehow the stunned prince managed to draw his sword, but even he knew the fight was over. A big hand reached out and squeezed the smaller man's wrist and fingers popped open, and steel clattered impotently on the floor. "Go ahead, Nubian," Takmet said, not defiant, just weary. "End it! Use your sword." The king shook his head. And raised a fist, no larger than the average child's head, casting a shadow that blotted out the face of the only son of the late King Ashur of Melor. "This," Balthazar said, "is for your father."
Then that fist came smashing straight into Takmet's wide eyes, and the last sound the prince heard was the sickening crunch of his own face, collapsing.
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