AN: Been playing Elden Ring a bit to pass time (after I beat Arceus Legends). I'm really cautious since I have to assume everything is strong enough to kill me. Also, those giant mosquitos creep me the fuck out. Just the way they move so fast and lunge at me. Ugh. Makes me shiver in disgust.

I've been dying a lot until I discovered the magic of wolf summoning spell. With the help of my pets, I was able to beat a boss on Zero Health. Literally no potions and I was just like 'ATTACK, MY PETS!'. Now I know how Hunderprest felt with his army of hounds.

Devising the King's Trials took a bulk of my time writing this. I think I did a good job, though.

This Chapter Marks 2 Million Words. 721 Favs. 735 Follows. Thank you all for sticking with this story (despite the inconsistent update schedule).

Disclaimer: I don't own Minecraft. If I did, I'd add Tacos.

Chapter 205

King's Trials (Part 1)

[Ringwood]

November 9th.

The big day. Or days, depending on how long these trials were. Captain Wynn had asked His Benevolence for every bit of information about the King's Trials as he could provide, and she learned that the last one, Notch's trials, lasted over three days. She and WorkingMann also had the added advantage of knowing what the trials would comprise of. That was information Carys' lackeys would be lacking.

Was it enough for a retired king to triumph in a contest of strength? Probably not, but that was why Wynn signed on as his Second, to protect him. She could handle the physical burdens of the trials while Mann could handle the mental and emotional ones. It wasn't a foolproof plan, but it was the best strategy she could think of to have a chance against the Paragons' representatives.

Oh, she saw who Carys sent. The well-equipped, enchanted diamond-clad reinforcements from Nitebane helped themselves to policing the perimeter of Ringwood's ruined capital as soon as they arrived. With them assisting the remnants of Ringwood's guards and the reinforcements Veronica secured from Daymonte, Wynn finally had peace of mind that what was left of her people were safe. The people finally had some assurance against the Griefers and Mobs.

But it came at a cost. Wynn was introduced to the candidates she promised positions for. Captains, council seats, even spots in the King's Trials. Nitebane was only helping Ringwood rebuild to have influence in another kingdom. That and the thousand sets of diamond armor Wynn was tasked with securing by the end of the year. If not for the new Testificate occupations trading in diamond armor, she might have thought it too tall an order.

Accompanying Carys' reinforcements were her chosen Captain and councilmen candidates. Two Captains and four councilmen. Only two stuck out to Wynn, and they were the two Captain candidates.

The first was female. Chinami9. She had long, waist-length, spiky blue hair ending in white tips. She had strong eyes of slate and wore a silk kimono of silver and blue. An enchanted diamond sword hung from her belt.

The other was male. KenjiStrawWalker. The sides of his head were shaved, leaving a small, tidy plume of dark-gray hair on his head. A few strands were woven through a large, ornamental, black bead and fastened there. His cobalt eyes were calculating and intelligent. He wore a black robe and straw sandals, and an enchanted bow hung off his back.

The two had greeted Wynn when they arrived. Chinami and Kenji were members of Team Alpha and Team Delta respectively and they formally claimed the two available Captain positions without delay. When informed about the King's Trials, they stepped aside and messaged Carys, and after a short while returned to accept the challenge. That had been yesterday.

Today, the trails would begin.

Wynn took up her rapier, tightened her armor, and left her temporary residence with a determined look set firmly on her face.

She wouldn't fail His Eminence again. It was time she redeemed herself.

[Nether]

The Charged Creepers were waiting for Spring and Carmen when they returned.

KillGore's Creeper grinder exceeded their wildest expectations when the fenced in pen was filled with Creepers, several of whom were already pulsing with an electric-blue glow. Instead of bothering to lure them out, Carmen supersized and plucked seven of them from the crowd before depositing them in a separate pen nearer to the Nether Portal. In exchange, Spring presented their first Wither Skull to an ecstatic munchkin.

"Yes! YES! Finally, after countless, fruitless endeavors to obtain such an item, my diabolical, pestilence-spewing fingertips can finally touch an ebony skull. This harbinger of doom and death will be but the beginning of the end! And I owe it all to you two, my comrades." He pocketed the skull and nodded respectfully. "You have my gratitude. Now that I have seen such results, KillGore is convinced this path he joins you on leads to world domination, and the enslavement of all who'd ever mock the evil that is KILLGOOOORE! MWAHAHAHA!"

Instead of saying anything, Spring and Carmen silently agreed to let KillGore laugh himself hoarse. At some point the awkward silence would catch up with him and he'd stop on his own accord, which he did.

"Well that's enough merriment for now." He said as if it was the other two laughing. "We have Creepers to ship out. Quadruple time!"

The Carmen clones rolled their eyes at the same time before muttering something in another language and moving away with Spring.

And so it was that Spring and Carmen repeated their Nether trek, carting off Charged Creepers, ferrying them across a sea of lava, and then detonating them at the Nether Fortress near a Wither Skeleton. It was tedious, but Spring and Carmen made the time go by faster by chatting and swapping stories. Carmen shared the story of the first meal she ever prepared while Spring talked about his first time at the Endward Cult's Gathering in the Redbone Desert.

Before they knew it, the unlikely trio held a trio of Wither Skeleton skulls between them, in addition to some soul sand picked up by Spring. Spring and KillGore, familiar with the Wither's power, could hardly believe they had the components and the means to summon such a deadly weapon at their leisure. This was something the cult had been working towards for many years, and they had accomplished it within a week. Thunder boomed and lightning crashed all around them, yet the trio were absorbed in what they held in their hands.

"So? Que sigue? What's next?" Carmen snapped out of the revelry first, voicing the question they all must've been thinking. They could summon a Wither - could summon more if they needed to, so long as the Charged Creeper farm was still in place. What would their next move be?

"Humph." KillGore considered. "Now that we possess a Wither, we must have it slay living Mobs to generate the Wither Roses I require for my Wither Skull Grinder. It'll be so advanced it'll make this Creeper ferrying we've been doing obsolete! This, KillGore swears."

"So we need to set it off some place where there's a lot of living Mobs." Spring hummed. "Do Crafters count?"

"KillGore does not know. KillGore's vision depicted a simple sheep falling to the Wither to produce the rose in question."

"Which means we'll have to put it where there's a lot of livestock." Spring nodded. "Cows, chickens, sheep, pigs, Testificates. How many roses do you think we'll need?"

"More than a hundred." KillGore said. "I'd prefer we gather as much as we can hold."

"No meager village is going to have those kinds of numbers. We need a big place."

"We're also lacking in Cabezas." Carmen reminded. "Wherever we decide to go, we may as well get them from there."

"I don't want us to draw attention to ourselves. The Kingdoms and Cult are sure to notice this." Spring voiced his concerns. "Plus, if we spawn this thing, we won't have the equipment to kill it. It'll rampage, killing every living thing until there's nothing left in Minecraftia."

"Good. That'll teach the world not to mess with KillGore."

"We won't want to get caught up in that. Ember drilled into our heads the importance of invisibility potions before unleashing those Withers on Ringwood."

"Hmm. Mayhaps there's a sheep farm we can target. True, the wool industry has done KillGore no wrong, but-"

"Dover Plains raises plenty of livestock." Spring suggested. "Maybe we can look for a populous pasture to-"

""""Fuera de la cuestión!""""

Spring and KillGore turned to the four clones who had blurted out in unison.

"Dover Plains is not a target!" One clone asserted.

"Not even a pueblo on the outskirts of their kingdom."

"If this Wither is as destructive as you claim, I want it at as far away from mi amor como sea posible!"

Right. She didn't want her love, Alton, to get caught up in the Wither in his Dover Plains home. If there was even the smallest chance he would die to their abomination, Carmen would fight the decision to the death.

KillGore had his protests, however.

"WHAT!? If your amor is so precious, just tell him to leave Dover Plains. There are too many pastures of livestock to let it go ignored. We're talking about a veritable goldmine of Wither roses, and you want to pass it up?" The shorty glared at each clone in turn. "I'm starting to wonder what sort of cultist you are."

"No soy cultista!"

"Hey, hey guys." Spring tried.

"All signs to the contrary!" KillGore shot back. "You helped us secure these skulls. I daresay you were pivotal in obtaining them. That makes you a cultist; that's how it works! And a very hypocritical one at that, to be so averse to harming one kingdom yet showing such willing bloodlust towards the weather institute!"

"I'm not a cultista! I just want to be me again!" Carmen nearly cried.

"Okay! That's enough!" Spring stopped KillGore before he could say anything more to upset Carmen. "We won't spawn the Wither in Dover Plains. We'll find someplace else." He assured, making the Hybrid and her clones back down.

"And you." Spring turned on KillGore. "You said yourself that Carmen's been instrumental to securing these skulls. Don't you think she's owed something back?"

KillGore pouted sourly before offering a curt nod of concession. He then went over to his ender chest and withdrew the cursed disc '11'. The very disc they needed for the ritual. He deliberately placed it in Carmen's grip before folding his arms and turning away petulantly.

"...Gracias." Carmen smiled before she hugged the disc close to her chest, her clones coming in and hugging her tight. That disc represented her hope in returning to her human form.

"You can thank me by helping to cover up this Creeper Grinder." KillGore handed some shovels and pickaxes to the clones. "If we hide it well enough, we can come back here and farm more skulls without the Weather Institute finding out. I'd prefer some backup skulls - more than a Wither's worth - but..."

"We don't want to push our luck. I get it." Spring nodded before getting to work unearthing dirt and stone. It was made harder with the rain pelting his back and soaking his skin, but he dug without complaint.

KillGore and the clones helped and they didn't stop until they were satisfied the Creeper Grinder was well-hidden. Unless the people at the institute knew the terrain or started mining nearby, the grinder would be kept hidden. As a final touch, KillGore relit the interior so that Creepers would stop spawning. Otherwise, there'd be thousands of Creeper by the time they returned.

"All set?" Spring asked, earning a nod from KillGore. "Great. Come on. Let's go look for a village. One of them is bound to have some pens full of farm animals."

[Ringwood]

The starting point for the King's Trials would be the base of Mt. Mur. Notch and the other Crafters that had made up the original trio of candidates had used the massive mountain to host their grand contest. It was where Notch realized his destiny as the first king of Ringwood. From what His Eminence had said, there was a stone brazier near the summit that served as a monument to the first trials. It would be relit after centuries of disuse.

Wool tents had been erected near the base of the mountain to serve as temporary lodgings while things were set up. The trials were reconstructed by the guards through a combination of what His Eminence, Mann, remembered, and from several old books outlining how the trials were carried out. The few Ringwood guards remaining took to officiating the trials and getting everything in place. That left the defence of Ringwood's walls in the hands of Daymonte's forces and the Paragons' forces. Paragons and guards from Daymonte still showed up to watch the trials, but only a small amount. It was pointless; unless they were officiating, they wouldn't get a good view of the action. The most they could do was be present for when the new king was crowned.

Wynn, Mann, and the other king and queen candidates were already in the tent prepping for the day. Only Mann and Wynn knew what to expect with the trials; a nice home-field advantage. Still, the Paragons were young and strong. Battle-ready, battle-hardened, agile, and with stone-cold resolve. Wynn saw all this with the candidates and their Seconds.

When Mann moved away, Wynn kept her eyes on him at all times until he was safely away from the competing Paragons. She didn't think they'd so blatantly kill him before the trials with guards around as witnesses, but she felt too uneasy around them. Things would be better once the trials were underway and she and His Eminence were miles away from them.

Of course, Veronica was there to chat up the Paragons' queen candidate with the white-tipped, spiky, long, blue hair. Chinami.

"Soooo, any chance that cool beauty of yours is going to show?" Veronica asked like she was good friends with the woman. "You know the one I'm talking about, right? Long purple hair - I mean real long. Scarred face."

Chinami shot the captain a flat look. "If you're talking about Z7, then I don't know. She's not in my team. I'm an Alpha."

"Drat. And here I was wanting to see her again."

Wynn's head drooped in exasperation. As much as she would prefer Veronica's unwanted advances to be aimed at some other poor sod, she didn't like Veronica being in the Paragons' corner.

"You should give up."

Wynn narrowed her eyes upon noticing the king candidate from the Paragons, Kenji, coming over to speak. "Excuse me?"

"You should give up." Kenji repeated, leaning against a pole with his bow held slackly between his fingers. "I heard about your loss at Ember's hands. You were there, yet you witnessed the demise of your king and subsequent queen. People have perished in these challenges from what I've heard. I'd hate for you to watch another royal die because of your failures."

Cold fury gripped Wynn's heart, her icy glare sending a chill up the spines of many a guard watching. Kenji ignored the frostiness, occupying himself with his gear instead. For him to bring up her greatest shame - almost rubbing her nose in it - it made her angry enough to clutch her iron rapier tightly and imagine plunging the tip through Kenji's balls.

"You think this is your moment of redemption, but it'll just be another bullet on your long list of failures. You won't be much use as a Captain if your mind breaks. Make the sensible decision and have Mann rescind his claim to the throne." Kenji advised. "I'd hate for Chinami or me to have to kill a washed up old man. It'd leave a bad taste in everyone's mouths."

"If anything should happen to him, I promise you these trials will have no winner." Wynn vowed darkly.

"I'm telling you this so as to avoid an unpleasant outcome." Kenji called out, stopping Wynn before she could walk away. "Mann is wise in his years and would make an excellent advisor, but not a king. Ringwood needs a strong, sure hand. Not some relic from the early years. I'm certain even he doesn't crave the position."

Wynn's lips drew down in a tight frown. She didn't want to admit how right Kenji was. Mann wanted a new king or queen to rule. It was only Wynn's insistence that convinced him to come back for these trials.

"Carys is trying to build something bigger than the kingdoms." Kenji continued. "She has plans, and those plans require a strong Ringwood. You've put your savior on a pedestal, so sure he can do no wrong, but is he the kind of king who would lead his army into battle? He's an old man! An old man you tore from retirement. Could you live with yourself should something befall him?"

"Don't feign concern when you're the one making the threats." Wynn snapped. "I'll make His Eminence the king no matter what you say, so just stay away from him and stay away from me. Is that clear?"

Kenji chuckled wearily with a shake of his head. "Diplomacy has failed us once again. So be it."

He loped off with Chinami and their Paragons, leaving Wynn visibly unsettled. She slapped her face with both hands to stave off her nerves.

"I'll protect him. I'll die before I fail again."

"With all candidates present, we can begin the trials." A guard designated as chief speaker announced. Outside the tents, before a small audience of green-capped guards, red-capped guards, and Paragons, Mann, Kenji, and Chinami stood with their Seconds, listening intently. "However, there are a few points I'd like to cover in the interest of keeping you informed."

"The King's Trials will be judged on a point based scoring system presided by an impartial panel of three judges. Each judge will cover one royal virtue: Mental, Physical, and Emotional. Just as it was done during the first trials when Notch claimed the throne as his own. The judges, and their helpers, will be observing the trials at all times and scoring the candidates appropriately. Each judge can award points as befitting a candidate's adherance to a virtue on a scale of 1 to 20. The most points a candidate can be given is 60, the minimum being 3."

"To qualify for said points, however, you must complete the main trial, which will be explained in-depth after the Candidates and Seconds are submitted and before commencement of the trials proper. Virtue points can be accumulated through a series of 'side quests' along the way. I am told these 'side quests' are completely different from stupid Scout Achievements or their asinine badges."

"BADGES! YEAAAAAAH!" One overeager Scout in the audience proclaimed, earning a plethora of flat glares before attention returned to the presiding speaker.

"Side quests can be performed at your leisure for points, but you must complete the main trial in the allotted time to be considered for the position of monarch. Failure to do so will strike you from the running and be counted as an immediate disqualification. Do you understand these rules as they have been outlined, or are there any points you have questions or concerns about?"

"Yeah, I got a query." The female Paragon, Chinami, said with a raised hand and a slanted posture. "Will we be penalized for interfering with the other candidates? This is a competition after all, so I want to know if starting fights will net me physical virtue points only to lose touchy, feely, emotional virtue points."

"Your actions - and the actions of your Seconds - will be watched and judged. So long as you don't violate the rules of the trials, you have free reign to do as you wish. The same can be said for a tyrannical monarch: do as you wish, knowing you will be judged by the people."

"So killing is fair game?" She asked next, making Wynn watch her like a hawk.

"As I said, free reign." The speaker nodded. "You may possess the bloody hands of a tyrant should you abandon the emotional virtues of the heart. A jester king, the one who shuns the mental virtues of the mind. A feeble king, the one who shies from the physical virtues of the body. Let these trials judge what sort of king - or queen - you wish to be. That is their purpose."

Chinami grinned lazily. "I know what I'm going for, then. You hear that, Mann? I got the greenlight." She made a point of looking at the retired king and gripping her sword, raising all sorts of alarms in Wynn's head. "If you don't call it quits, I won't be held responsible for what happens in these trials. You still want to do this?"

The retired king, however, merely gave her a dismissive half-glance, unbothered in the slightest, before making a statement.

"I'm prepared. Whatever happens, this will be the best for Ringwood. For I believe these trials will reveal the true kind of monarch these times demand."

"Spoken vaguely enough to be called prophetic. Bravo." Kenji clapped once.

"If that's all the questions you have at the moment, we can commence with submitting of the names." The speaker drew out three pieces of paper and an anvil. "As is tradition, the candidates will rename a piece of paper using their own hard-earned EXP. The first name they write will be the monarch candidate, their name, and the second name will be their Second who will be assisting them throughout these challenges. Candidate name, then Second name. You may abbreviate so long as it's legible."

Mann already knew the rules. He was the first to step up to the anvil, not even needing the whole explanation as he renamed the piece of paper with his EXP. He then handed the paper back to the speaker before rejoining Wynn. Kenji and Chinami did the same soon after, albeit with more reluctance.

"What a waste of perfectly good EXP." Chinami complained.

"It's tradition." The speaker defended. "By giving a piece of your accumulated EXP, you are marking this paper with a piece of yourself."

Chinami sighed before thrusting the signed paper into the speaker's hands. Chinami's Second was most likely the wiry male with the build of an assassin, Broderick. Meanwhile, Kenji's Second was a broad-shouldered man with brown hair, a stubble, and a flat nose, named Judson. He looked like a combatant. Wynn could tell that the two Paragons had chosen the best to represent them in the trials.

The speaker flipped through the papers before nodding with a satisfied expression and placing them into an ender chest for safe keeping. "And so, the names have been submitted. Now, your main trial." He waved one hand and several guards moved to a wooden pen from where groaning sounds were emanating. The Paragons only had a second to question what was inside before the doors were flipped open to reveal a pen of Zombified Villagers.

"...What is this?" Kenji asked, thrown off at the sight.

"Are we fighting these things?" Chinami asked next, her sword being drawn.

"No. These Zombified Villagers spawned during the night and were gathered by guards into this pen for the sake of the main trial, which is as follows: guide one of these Zombie Villagers to the stone brazier near the summit of Mt. Mur."

"We have to what!?" Chinami exclaimed. "What virtues involve herding Zombies!?"

"Patience, creative thinking, restraint." The speaker listed. "These are all qualities this trial will test, though this is only half of the trial. The other half will be explained at the stone brazier. You have three days to complete both halves of the trial and return to touch this stone marker." The speaker placed down a stone brick wall where he was standing. "Within that time frame, you and your Seconds may also complete any number of side quests scattered amongst the mountain's ascent. Observers for the judges will be watching your every move. They will not aid nor impede you, and you should do likewise. No harm may come to the observers as they fulfill their job for the judges. The new monarch will be whichever candidate with the most virtue points returns before the time limit ends."

"But how are we going to bring these Zombie Villagers up the mountain? It's day! They'll burn to death!"

"That's for you to figure out. Should a Zombie Villager perish, you must return back here for a new one. And no, you cannot bring backups. And don't think about stealing a candidate's Zombie. To discourage such a thing, we have name tags. You will name your Zombie Villager here, giving it a unique identity."

"Great. Another waste of EXP." Chinami griped.

"By giving a piece of your accumulated EXP, you are honoring-"

"Okay, fine, enough with the honor, I'll do it!"

"Very good. There are no other rules other than the ones I outlined. You may use whatever you find in the wilderness as well as any items or resources you have on hand. Before the trials commence, you are to be allotted a short recess to plan and strategize and allow the observers to get into position. I shall leave you to it, and afterwards you'll be placed at three different starting lines along the base of the mountain. Best of luck."

As the speaker left the Candidates and Seconds to their devices, Mann and Wynn were already grabbing their name tag and singling out a Zombie Villager for the journey. They weren't at all caught off guard by the odd tribulation, having studied the details of the King's Trials beforehand. They also didn't need time to strategize, as they already had a plan and the necessary items which they brought with them. Knowledge and preparedness would secure them an early lead against the Paragons.

Notch had to guide a Zombie Villager up the mountain during the First Trials, and he did it during the day by tossing the Zombie a helmet to shade it from the sun. Mann and Wynn already had a helmet and the rest of a set of diamond armor to give their Zombie Villager some good defense. It'd make it less likely to die early on its trek to the top. That was information Wynn was unwilling to share.

Also, the Paragons had no idea yet that the second part of the trial was curing the Zombie Villager and bringing the cured Testificate back down to the finish line. Wynn intended to keep it that way.

Wynn enjoyed watching Kenji and Chinami scramble frantically for some strategy. The Paragons were unfamiliar with escort missions, and escorting a Mob was so far from their comfort zone that they were at a loss. Not like her and Mann. They were ready.

When the grace period ended and the candidates were placed at their starting points with their named Zombie Villagers, Wynn bounded forward as soon as the fireworks sounded.

Behind her, His Eminence sucked in a great breath of air, his hands cupped around his mouth.

"THE ZOMBIES WON'T BURN UP IF YOU GIVE THEM A HELMET!"

Mann's voice, rivaling the late Captain Iron_Lung in volume, made Wynn turn around with dawning horror. There was no way the other candidates had missed that. Mann had pissed away their one advantage.

"Come along, Cobb II." Mann coaxed the Zombie forward like it was an infant learning to walk and not an undead monster trying to eat his face off. Also, the name - Cobb II - had been Wynn's idea.

"Your Eminence!" Wynn cried. "You blurted out our advantage! How could you make such a mistake?"

"In the interest of fairness." Mann nodded. "A monarch must be fair and just."

"Good virtue!" An observer suddenly popped out from some brush. He jotted something down in his book. "Bad for mental, but commendable for emotional."

Wynn looked blankly at the observer before turning back to His Eminence, who smiled knowingly. They were down an advantage, but leading in emotional virtue points - the kind the Paragons wouldn't touch.

Just how far ahead was Mann thinking?

[Feldkirch]

KillGore cupped his hands over his eyes in the approximation of binoculars as he gazed upon the Daymonte village of Feldkirch. Although the act didn't necessarily enhance his vision, it helped him focus on certain sights, like the sheep pens to the east of the village.

"Yes. Target acquired."

"You're really sold on this sheep thing, aren't you?"

"If the Bounty Day vision foretold sheep, then sheep it shall take!" KillGore snapped.

"We need Cabezas too." Carmen reminded, her clones observing the sizable village. It had a basic stone wall for defense against Mobs and Griefers, but also an equal population of Testificates and Crafters. They wouldn't be able to stand up to a Wither, though; those were Kingdom-leveling disasters. "With enough Cabezas, we can turn me back by the next luna llena!"

"First we secure the roses!" KillGore reminded. "Then your Hybrid form will still be needed to construct the Wither Skull Grinder! Only then shall KillGore grant you permission to change back into your less useful human form."

"And how long will all that take? No estoy esperando!"

"From what KillGore's heard, you've been waiting over three centuries already. What's a few more days?"

"Spring won't allow such a thing, will you Spring?"

"Spring needs the Wither Skull Grinder first and foremost. Do you refute this, Spring?"

"Spring!"

"Spring!"

Ugh, it's like I'm caught between a pair of whiny children! So much bickering. Spring thought. Is this what Ember went through with 4Blite and Jade?

"Carmen." Spring spoke suddenly. "KillGore made a concession granting you the cursed disc. Therefore, it's your turn to make a concession. It's only fair." KillGore smirked nastily while the Carmen clones stuck their tongues out at him, looking cross. "Once we have the Wither Roses and the Wither Skull Grinder is half built, we'll perform the ritual and turn Carmen back to her old self." In a reversal, Carmen brightened while KillGore squawked in protest.

"KillGore won't allow it! KillGore needs Carmen's giant size to aid in demolition and construction and protection and transportation!"

"You'll settle for half and like it." Spring put his foot down. "Carmen's already advanced your Grinder months ahead of schedule. Or have you forgotten how we outpaced the cult in securing skulls?" KillGore grumbled to himself, unable to complain or protest. "Then we're agreed to do it my way? In the interest of fairness?"

"Absolutamente." Carmen and her clones nodded. "For fairness."

"For. Fairness." KillGore grumbled, less enthused.

"Good." Spring focused back on Feldkirch Village, his eyes tracing from the sheep pen to the main square. "Okay. The Wither has some kick when it spawns. We don't want all the sheep to die in the first explosion. They have to be withered to drop a Wither Rose, right?"

"That's KillGore's assumption, yes."

"Then I'll go spawn this thing in the square." Spring nodded only to get stopped by Carmen and KillGore. "What?"

""""You can't seriously be thinking about going down there! To the zona de la muerte!"""" Carmen's clones babbled.

"KillGore agrees. It shan't be you. The honor should be KillGore's!"

"Oh, come on. I'll be fine. This isn't my first time being around a Wither battlezone. Besides, it's grunt work. We can't risk either of you two-"

A scalding hand touched his neck in a scolding manner, making him yelp.

"You."

"Are."

"Not."

"A."

""""Gruñido!"""" The clones said a word apiece before ending in unison. "Cabrón." One added as an afterthought.

"If anyone should go, it should be me. My clones can survive un golpe mortal."

"No, KillGore will go! Only evil incarnate is most deserving of the honor. As for my safety, KillGore has already devised a foolproof plan to summon the Wither and escape unscathed."

"Seriously?" Spring asked.

"Of course! KillGore does not lie!"

Spring mulled it over for a second before complying and fishing out the skulls and soul sand. "Alright. I'll take your word for it."

"Swipe!" KillGore exclaimed, snatching the materials from Spring's hand and guarding them jealously. "Yes. It's time for this world to know KillGore. And thanks to this tag," he held up a name tag, "they will soon become quite intimate with the name. Mwahahaha!" He then scampered off towards the village, leaving Spring and the Carmen clones alone on the hill.

"El esta ansioso. He's awfully eager. I thought these things were spawnable nukes."

"There's a time delay to make yourself scarce." Spring explained, lowering himself to lie on his stomach. "Despite its reputation as a Kingdom-crippler, it's not the death sentence it's made out to be. If it was, Leadstripe and Ember wouldn't have survived after summoning it."

"Well, even if he dies, I suppose it doesn't matter. Nosotros tenemos el disco." Carmen smirked as one of her clones spun it around on one finger. "We have everything we need for the ritual."

"There's just the small manner of transporting over seven-hundred Heads from where we stashed them." Spring pointed out. "We could use an ender chest like last time, but we'd be sending a clone dangerously close to the Northern HQ portal. It's a big risk."

"Do I really have to help build the Wither Skull Grinder before I can change back?" Carmen pouted.

"Just half of it. We all need to compromise."

"Sé, sé." Carmen huffed. "I'm actually sort of glad the chihuahua volunteered to go down there. Rather me than you, but rather him than us, you know?"

"I didn't think you'd be okay with us spawning it at all." Spring said rather reluctantly. "What with the innocent lives and all."

"If I'm being honest, I can't find it in myself to care. I've been a Hybrid for so long that I just want to be selfish for a change." Two of the clones hugged themselves. "Does that make me a monstruo?"

"No."

"Por qué?"

"Well," Spring hummed to himself, "I think real monsters don't care about anyone. I use my old Lieutenant, 4Blite, as an example. Guy killed his own division members and ruled through fear. Sure as hell didn't give a shit about anyone but himself. Even now, with those Plagues he's gathered, I don't think he sees them as anything more than tools to further his own ends. He doesn't care for any one of them. I should know, having served in his subdivision."

"You, on the other hand," Spring gestured, "didn't want us summoning the Wither in Dover Plains to protect your amor. And you didn't want me down there either. So you care, just not for people you don't know. I don't think that makes you a monster. It doesn't make you a saint, but you're definitely not a monster."

Carmen and her clones smiled. "Veo. Can't argue with that."

"Good. Now go eat your food and think happy thoughts." Spring threw out, making Carmen's vibrato rumble with mirth. Spring kept a watchful eye on the villager square, wondering when the chaos would start.

It wasn't until forty minutes later that an explosion ripped open the village square and a Wither popped out. The initial explosion killed or injured over a hundred Crafters in the packed square before the Wither began to fly around and target others. The skulls it shot from two of its three, terrible heads withered and killed large groups of people, adding to the death toll. It was pandemonium. Buildings and roads were blasted apart and Crafters were throwing others behind them to make for the horses and ride out. They weren't fast enough, though. Three-hundred dead, equal parts Crafters and Testificates. Then four-hundred. Then five-hundred. Spring later found out that Crafters didn't leave roses behind when withered to death. The Iron Golems making up the village's last line of defense were swiftly and decidedly eradicated. While some Crafters managed to escape Feldkirch, most did not, and the population was gutted.

"Dios mío..." Carmen uttered in horror as she watched the chaos unfold. The resounding explosions easily carried to their hill. "So that's what a Wither can do. They can't even stop it."

"None of us can."

Not unless you're wielding that invincible chestplate. Spring thought.

With the Crafters and Testificates and Iron Golems gone, the Wither focused its wrath on the livestock, slaughtering the flock of penned sheep with nowhere to go. They'd surely drop several dozen bouquets' worth of Wither Roses. Mission accomplished. But how did KillGore avoid that mess?

As if on cue, the dirt and grass beneath them shifted before breaking. A head of blond hair poked out, KillGore having gone underground to avoid detection. However, as he was helped out of the hole by the Carmen clones, he wore a crestfallen grimace.

"KillGore can't believe it. KillGore did it again, didn't I? KillGore literally did the exact same thing that got me an L last time, what am I doing!? This is exactly what my therapist told KillGore not to do!"

"Uhhh, what are you talking about?" Spring asked. "You did it. Mission accomplished."

"No, fool! KillGore set out to name the Wither something apropros. Something that embodied all the indignities KillGore suffered for being small! But I messed up and named it-!"

"Entrante!" A Carmen clone hissed pointing at the flying Wither approaching their hill. It had finished killing everything in Feldkirch and was now seeking out any sources of life. Two clones dove onto Spring and KillGore, stuffing them back into the freshly dug hole and evading the sight of the Wither's three heads by the skin of their teeth. They caught its name as it flew over. KillGore had named it.

And 'KillRoy's Furry' cried out in wanton wrath as it sought to bring death and ruin to Minecraftia, just like its creator. At least it had the added motivation for world destruction from being named something as ridiculous as that. Never had a name been so unintentionally misspelled into something so stupid. After the Wither that shall not be named flew off, and the three amigos pulled themselves out of the ground, Spring and two clones gave KillGore a few comforting pats on the back.

"Snf... KillGore... snf... needs not your pity... uwah..."

It must've been a curse.

"Oye, should we worry about that thing flying off to who knows where?" A Carmen clone raised her hand.

"Well, we could, just not voice or visibly show concern over it."

"...Okay."

"I'm sure someone will take care of it." Spring stared off in the direction the Wither went - South - with a smile that screamed denial. "Eventually. There's a lot of things that way."

"But importantly, not us."

"Oh yeah, we're definitely not going that way."

The trio soon entered the vacated village, stepping over wealth, gear, and lesser items in their search for Heads and roses. As luck had it, one of the Wither's many fallen victims was a wealthy owner of a SutsCo brand Pocket Box. Cyan in color. Spring found it and decided to use it to help carry the Heads. With that, plus Spring, Carmen and her clones carrying some or storing them away in an Ender chest, they just barely managed to hold the two-hundred-and-twenty-one Heads they needed to complete the ritual.

KillGore bounced back from his misnomer incident when he returned with his belt pockets stuffed full of black roses. They stank like a raw corpse left out in the sun for too long and Spring and Carmen didn't dare take a deeper whiff, instead covering their noses or else drawing a bandana up over their mouth. KillGore didn't mind the odor. As a matter of fact, he reveled in it.

"Smell that? HFFFF! That is the smell of hard-won success! Gaze in awe upon the rewards of perseverance! Mwahahaha!"

"So we can finally work on the Grinder, right?" Spring wanted to be sure. "You don't need, like, the stomach of a goat, or the eye of a newt, or some other crazy thing? We have everything you need?"

"Yes. These Wither Roses were the missing piece." KillGore nodded, placing one down in the dirt. The bloom was as black as night and smelled of death. Any lingering doubts that this was the wrong flower were put to rest when KillGore ran a hand through it, becoming withered almost instantly. Bistre particles danced around him as his life drained away until the effect expired. After that, he broke the rose and put it with the other stacks at his belt. "No doubts. These are them."

"So, what, we go make it now?" Carmen asked.

"That's exactly what we do." KillGore grinned evilly. "Back to Blitz Peak. We'll use the Nether Fortress we found. Better bring some dirt too-"

"Actually, hang on a moment." Spring raised his hand. "I expect building this thing will take a lot of work. We're already exhausted from getting this far. Carmen four times over." He nudged a Carmen clone's shoulder, making them all grin. "Why don't we take a day off to recuperate?"

"Out of the question!" KillGore exclaimed. "My destiny is within reach and you owe the Endward Cult! Why wait when there's work to be done!?"

"We hid the portal well. It's not going anywhere, and we've made a ton of progress." Spring pointed out the Heads and Wither Roses. "We earned a break, and we'll be better rested to power through the next phase of our plan."

KillGore paused to consider his words, humming softly. "Perhaps you are right. Being a natural leader includes knowing when to employ the carrot and when to employ the stick. Considering the labor involved, a day of rest is warranted. Fine!" He held up a finger. "KillGore approves one day of rest. Then it's back to work!"

"You got it." Spring nodded before a Carmen clone grabbed his arm.

"Voy a preparar una comida extravagante!" Carmen's vibrato warbled. "Get ready to have your taste buds wowed!"

"Simple steak will suffice." KillGore folded his arms.

"Oh, you'll be changing your tune soon enough." Carmen boasted proudly. "One bite of my specially prepared steak will make all other food taste like ojete."

And so, the trio of unlikely allies shared a wonderful meal in a ruined village, and KillGore weeped tears of envy when he took that first bite of Carmen's cooking.

[Mt. Mur]

"Your Eminence, we must hurry!"

Wynn was frantically gesturing for Mann to pick up the pace. One foot was planted higher than the other on the mountain they were ascending. However, for all Wynn's urging, Mann moved at the same pace as the Zombie Villager they were escorting. Cobb II moaned and groaned trying to swipe at Mann, but he always remained outside its range.

"Please! We need to pick up the pace or else you'll lose the Kingdom to-"

"Wynn." Mann spoke sharply before easing up. "Calm."

"But-!"

"This is not a sprint, nor a race. Them finishing first doesn't mean anything if we finish with more virtue points. Besides, we can't go any faster than our charge. Best to go at our own pace, wouldn't you agree?"

"But we can't relax our guard!" Wynn insisted. "Kenji and Chinami as good as swore to come after you! How can I remain calm whilst fearing an attack at all times!?"

"You take a deep breath and trust your instincts." Mann instructed. "You've been a Captain for years; you'll know when a threat's coming."

"If I knew that, then how come I was unprepared for the Endward Cult." Wynn spoke regretfully. "All my experience and instincts were reduced to empty words before Ember_Waves. I'm just a-"

"You've indeed suffered a grave loss." Mann admitted. "But we fall so that we can learn to pick ourselves back up. Why, when I was an heir, I heard that Notch had many failures and regrets hanging over his head. But did he let that stop him? Did he let those failures shape him? No!"

Mann leaned out of the way as Cobb II tried to claw at him.

"He kept on fighting. He was a shining beacon of hope and civilization in a cruel and unforgiving land. That's why we honor him today. Now how would Notch feel knowing you were so consumed by despair that you couldn't watch out for his legacy?"

"He'd probably roll over in his grave." Wynn noted sadly. "But that's why I brought you back. To leave the Kingdom in your capable hands."

"Would I have fared any better in your shoes?" Mann asked seriously. "Faced with a powerful Endward Cult Executive I would've been useless. You could at least fight her. Buy time."

Wynn bitterly remembered how powerless she had been against Ember. They both wielded the same Tinker's weapon, yet Ember was a master. Wynn thought she was fairly skilled before getting handily trounced while fighting beside a fellow Captain. She had since realized how big the world truly was.

The two were brought out of their musings by a monotone and phoned in cry for help.

"Oh haaaalp, oh haaaalp." The voice cried. "My matrimonial nugget fell down this convenient well. Oh, halp, halp, haaaalp!"

"Hark! A cry for help!" Mann dramatically exclaimed while pointing. "One of our citizens needs us! Come, Wynn! We must lend him our aid!"

Mann hurried towards the voice, Wynn trudging behind while guiding Cobb II, her hand palming her face in embarrassment. She knew the trials would be fake, but the guards could have acted a bit better. She and Mann couldn't pass up the virtue points, though.

They came across a crudely constructed stone brick well with a guard fake weeping beside it.

"Oh. A pair of noble travelers. Please. I was admiring the matrimonial nugget my darling wife proposed to me with when it slipped from my fingers and dropped down this random ass well. Please, please, please retrieve it for me."

"Not to worry, distressed citizen. Being a monarch, I'd be happy to put your needs ahead of my safety!" Mann smiled before jerking his head to Wynn. "Be a lamb and retrieve it."

"What was that you just said about a monarch being happy to do it?" Wynn talked while pacing in a circle so that the armored Zombie Villager wouldn't get her.

"A monarch must also delegate menial tasks." Mann had his response ready. "Besides, it doesn't matter which of us completes the task as a monarch's follower reflects upon the monarch themselves."

Wynn shook her head before stepping up to the well and clambering into it. It was crudely made - no more than a one meter wide hole dug into the ground - but there was at least water at the bottom. She jumped down and landed safely in the water before kneeling and feeling around for the tiny nugget. Her questing hand eventually found it before she dug into her pack for a bucket of milk. She drank the milk and used the empty bucket to scoop up the water and place it above her, making a waterfall she could swim up, scoop up, and re-bucket in a continuous cycle until she reached the top.

Once there, she clawed out of the well, soaking wet and miserable, and held out the nugget to the 'distressed citizen'.

"Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you." The guard showered her with fake praise. "You are a truly virtuous Crafter."

"Be more careful next time." Mann advised, preoccupied with Cobb II. Wynn squeezed the water out of her hair and shook as much dampness out of her clothes as she could before squelching and squashing away. "That went rather well. Eh? Well? Get it?"

Wynn stabbed the ground with her rapier and twisted. "I have to walk in icky, wet, swamp socks now."

"They'll dry. Just like the tears from that distressed citizen thanks to your efforts."

"Those were crocodile tears and you know it." Wynn willed off her socks to cease the infernal squelching and squashing.

"Still so frosty. You won't make many friends acting so callous like that."

"No time for friends. Not when I'm busy with work."

"What about Veronica? She came to your aid when you needed help?"

"Veronica and I are just Captains walking in similar circles. We know each other through work." Wynn explained. "Also, she keeps hitting on me despite my feelings on the matter. I've very clearly and repeatedly told her no."

Mann spared a glance at the Zombie Villager following them. Specifically at the name Wynn gave it. "What about this Cobb you've named our charge after?"

"Cobb..." Wynn paused for a second before sighing. "Okay, yes, Cobb is a friend. But I'd rather not discuss it. I told you he's a wanted man after getting falsely framed as an Executive by the Paragons. I can't show sympathy for him when anti-cult sentiment has never been higher. I haven't seen him since he snuck into my tent and I... cried into his shoulder." She added with embarassment.

"Seems he has it rough. Well, I'm glad he returned to Ringwood to comfort you." Mann smiled. "It's nice to know you have people looking out for you."

"I can care for myself." Wynn affirmed. "Just not for my kingdom."

"Always so hard on-"

Wynn suddenly tackled Mann out of the way of a flaming arrow. She forced His Eminence down, drawing her rapier and glaring at the direction the shot came from.

It was Chinami's Second, Broderick. He had a bow drawn, his next flaming arrow striking Cobb II and setting the Zombie Villager ablaze. Beside him Chinami laughed.

"Let's see if this Cobb is any harder to kill than the original!"

AN: No Inventory List for these Chapters. They'll be put back in when we return to Cobb and Carys' sides.

Spring and his two amigos are making headway into both the Wither project and turning Carmen back. He has to carefully balance their needs if he's to keep them cooperative. However, he still finds the time to hand out breaks for a job well done. Also, KillRoy's Furry is loose on the world. I like the idea that he just makes mistakes when naming things, but what devastating things will KillRoy's Furry get up to in Minecraftia's south? Probably nothing until I have need to address it, fading into obscurity like Wynn's whiskers.

The King's Trials are also in motion. This chapter took so long to publish because I was debating how to do the king's trials before settling on this point-based quest system with sidequests littered along the way. The bit about the virtues of Heart, Body, and Mind is a little too close to home in regards to Cobb's internal organs. Then again, he is a King_Cobb.

Omake Time. And this Omake will put the Chapter over the 2 Million Word Threshold. Neato.

My Craft Stew: Cutthroat Market

On the streets of Dover Plains, one of the vilest Crafters ever to have existed was doing his damnedest to enact his brilliant plan.

"Buy Sdraw's Confectionaries!" Sdrawkcab called out from his sweets stall. "We have cookies, cakes, and pies! All delectable and ready to order!'

His voice lured in a few customers, but most of them passed his sweets stall in favor of the more popular one down the street.

"Awww, he's so cuuuuute!" A chorus of female voices cooed.

"SILENCE!" KillGore cried out in fury. "KillGore is neither cute nor awww-worthy! He is ruthless! Pure evil! And he is only selling sweets to help kickstart funding for his evil plans! I command you to buy my overpriced, sugary foods! They are like KillGore, innocent on the outside, but heart attack enducingly evil on the inside! BUY THEM AND LEAVE, PEASANTS!"

"He's insulting us, but he's so gosh darn cuuuute! I can't help but buy from him!" One female gushed before raising a fistful of emeralds. "I'll take forty!"

"Fifty!"

"Make it a hundred! I'll buy whatever this cute bundle of fluff says!"

Sdraw glared at his competition through closed eyes (don't ask me how) before turning to his assistant baker.

"What want, boss man?" XoX rumbled, his muscular chest bared for all to see.

"There is a wind blowing from the east. I want you and your sweaty muscles stationed here in 3... 2... 1..."

A breeze did in fact come from the east, making XoX's wild, vermillion locks cascade behind him as if in slow motion. His muscles dripped with sweat from hours of baking in the hot sun. The females turned as one to gaze upon him with hearts in their eyes.

"What a hunk!"

They stampeded away from KillGore's stall, much to the shrimp's umbrage. Now they were throwing their emeralds at Sdraw's stall, the devious mastermind raking in the wealth.

"Thank you, thank you all for your patronage!" Sdraw accepted the emeralds gratefully as he handed out confectionaries.

"Boss, these ladies are touching XoX's butt."

"Hands to yourself people!" He chastised. "There's a butt touching fee of ten - no, no, fifty emeralds." As soon as he said that, more emeralds were heaped upon him. "Aha, Sdraw you are a genius."

KillGore tightened his fists in impotent rage. He swore he'd never resort to this, but he was left with no other choice. He splashed his eyes with a Splash Potion of Water to simulate tears before making a piteous sound.

"Uh... uwah... uwaaaaah!"

Sdraw's female customers suddenly turned on a dime towards the crying smol boy.

"My customers... uwah... I lost them becuase... snf... KillGore isn't good enough... uwaaaaaah!"

"NOOOO!" The women shrieked, abandoning Sdraw's stand and taking their emeralds back to the munchkin to soothe him. "Don't cry little one!"

"Your cookies are delicious!"

"Snf... snf..." KillGore fake sobbed, his lip becoming tremulous and hating every second of it. "R-Really...?"

"The best there is! Please don't cry!"

"Look! We have emeralds! Can you give me a hundred cookies?"

"I'll take two-hundred!"

Sdraw frowned deeply as he lost all of his customers yet again. Muscular hunks were no match for crying smol boys, it seemed. His Domino ability should have foreseen such a thing. Fortunately, he had a backup plan.

"XoX." He uttered softly. "Rend that smol boy from existence."

"Okay, but XoX got his Warhammer stolen while someone was molesting Xox's butt."

"What?"

"Here! I'm out of emeralds, but take this Warhammer!" One female begged, throwing it on the counter of KillGore's stall in place of emeralds. KillGore took it up with an appreciative eye.

"...Damn it all to hell!" Sdraw beat his fists against his stall.

Should've brought in Teal. She'd draw in the male customers while KillGore took the females.

FAV. FOLLOW. REVIEW. PM. FORUM. DISCORD. FUDGE STRIP COOKIES.