A/N: I know that this chapter took a while to be uploaded, but when life throws a hardball, it's a bowling ball going at Mach 11. Nevertheless, here is the tenth chapter of The Imperial Daddy. I hope it was well worth the wait.
Speaking of this story, after much thinking, I have decided that this will be a 12-chapter story. So the next chapter will be the last regular one before the finale.
After having to stomach down his daily bowl of Fiber None cereal for breakfast, which he could of sworn Ga'ran created solely for the sake of punishing him, Inga entered Rayfa's private quarters, where Nayna was standing by the stairway leading up to the young princess' bedroom with a worried look on her face.
"So, how's Rayfa doing?"
"Same as yesterday, Inga." Nayna sullenly replied with a shake of her head. "That attorney really did a number on her confidence. I've never seen the poor dear so broken."
"She still hasn't left her room?"
"She briefly left once or twice to use the bathroom, but whenever I'd try to console her, she'd just run back in, balling her eyes out and yelling how she wanted to be alone."
"I see…" Inga morosely noted as he started to make his way up the stairs.
"Don't waste your breath trying to cheer her up, Inga. You know how stubborn Rayfa can be when she's like this. But then again, that shouldn't be much of a surprise considering who her father is…" Nayna smirked, prompting the Minister of Justice to waste no time in turning around and flashing the 'elderly' servant a death glare.
"You'd better be referring to my headstrong attitude and the wellspring of fortitude that has allowed me to be married to your sister for over two decades without jumping off Mt. Poniponi, see…!" Inga snarled. "Because otherwise…" The Minister of Justice took a crumpled up execution paper from his pocket before slamming it against the wall and stamping it with gusto.
"Inga, Inga, Inga…" Nayna chuckled with a shake of her head. "If there's one thing Rayfa got from you, it's your bravado and ability to make empty threats. After all, you know fully well why I'll never be executed."
"Damn it, Amara...!" Inga snarled as he returned the execution paper to his pocket. "You always know how to push all the wrong buttons, see!"
"What can I say? It's a gift bestowed upon all those descended from Her Holiness." Nayna tittered before returning to a more serious countenance. "But in all seriousness, Inga. You can't deny how many similar Rayfa and Dhurke-"
"Listen here, Amara!" Inga roared, half tempted to charge at the former queen who had the gall to remind him of the cruel fact that Rayfa was merely his child by adoption. "Rayfa and Dhurke are nothing alike! Nothing at all, see!? Dhurke's a loudmouth, bluffing, blowhard terrorist who has made life hell for me, while Rayfa, on the other hand, is a kind, sweet, smart girl who has done nothing but give me joy in an otherwise bleak and pain-filled existence! And I refuse to view that damn dragon as her biological dad!"
"You know, Inga, she gets those good qualities from me."
"Shut up!" Inga snapped, wadding up the execution paper in his pocket before throwing it at Nayna's head, which, as one would think, merely bounced off and fell to the ground without doing any real damage.
"Inga, that was just plain sad, and this is after Ga'ran showed me a video of you crying and trying to fight her off with a bowl as she tried to make love with you a few mornings ago."
"How about instead of running off that big mouth of yours, you leave me to comfort my daughter in peace." Inga growled.
"Fine, have it your way, Inga…" Nayna stated as she left the building, allowing Inga to the climb the stairs, each pace making louder the wails of sadness from behind the locked door of his beloved daughter's bedroom.
"Rayfa…" Inga stated as he lightly rapped his knuckle on the pink door. "You wanna talk?"
"No! Go away!" Rayfa shrieked.
"You sure? 'Cause you can talk to me about anything that's bothering you, see?" Inga stated in as comforting a tone he could muster.
"Well I don't want to talk about it! Just leave me alone!"
Not one to calmly sit back and let his daughter suffer, Inga took out the spare key to Rayfa's bedroom that he kept on him and used it to unlock the door, and upon entering the room, the Minister of Justice flinched at the state of the place.
The windows, which would let in plenty of natural light, were completely covered by their blinds, leaving the dimly illuminated lamp hanging above Rayfa's bed as the only source of light and making the place feel like a cave. Though that was the least of Inga's worried as he looked to the ground, noticing a plethora of used, crumpled tissues scattered about the ground around the bed, which, under a large mound of quivering, sobbing covers, housed his poor, emotionally distraught daughter.
"Come on, Rayfa. I know you're not in the best of moods, but at least turn on some lights." Inga sullenly commented as he flipped the light switch, prompting the young princess to stick her head of unkempt hair out from underneath the covers to glare daggers at her father with red, tearstained eyes.
"No, I don't deserve light! Light is for winners, not worthless failures like meeeee!" Rayfa wailed, burying her face into her covers as she resumed her crying.
"Don't say that, Rayfa. You're not a failure, you're an extremely capable young lady." Inga softly retorted, sitting down on the edge of his daughter's bed as he lightly stroked her hair.
"Don't try to make me feel better, Father! My Divination Séance was a complete failure because I'm a useless nincompoop!"
"Rayfa, listen to me." Inga said, grabbing the princess by her shoulder so that he could look her in the eye. "You did that séance perfectly. The only failure in that courtroom was that bum chief prosecutor who arrested the wrong guy."
"But it still doesn't change the fact that I was chased out by that vile barb headed attorney!" Rayfa growled, her face reddening as she clenched her fist. "Ooh… I have never faced such humiliation in all of my days! Curse Barbed Head, curse him to the foulest depths of Hell!"
"Well, don't you worry, Rayfa. After that trial let out, I gave that mook what for…" Inga smirked. "Yeah, I stared him down, and then told him just who he was messing with… that if he tries that kind of stunt again, things may not end so nicely for him."
"Really?" Rayfa asked with a sniffle.
"Of course! No one hurts my daughter and gets away with it, especially not some no-goodnik foreign attorney- strutting into my courtroom with his cheap, ugly blue suit and jagged hair, acting all high an' mighty like he owned the joint. Just who does he think he is?"
"I don't know, but I do know what he is: a foolish nincompoop!" Rayfa chirped with a grin.
"That's right, Rayfa." Inga jovially stated as he ruffled his daughter's hair. "'Cause if he's dumb enough to try defending another crook, I'll do everything in my power to make sure the DC Act sends that mook on a one-way trip to the Twilight Realm, see? I'd even go the extra mile and arrange it for Prosecutor Sahdmadhi to prosecute that case. After all, who better to strike down a wretched attorney than the child of one…? So, feel any better?"
"Uh-huh…" Rayfa sad with a soft nod, taking out a tissue from beneath her covers and drying her eyes out.
"Good. Need anything before I head out?"
"Well…" Rayfa said, cocking her head to the side and tapping her chin in contemplation. "There is one thing…"
"Yeah, I'm listening."
"A few days ago, I saw a wonderful episode of The Plumed Punisher where they showed a promotion for a limited-edition clock that plays the theme song every hour, which they will be giving to 50 lucky viewers, and I was wondering…"
"If I'd make sure you were one of the lucky ones?"
"If it's not too much trouble, Father. I know how hard you work, and the last thing that I'd want is to burden you with my selfish request." Rayfa sullenly stated, looking down at the bed in shame. "But I really want that clock!" The princess proclaimed as she looked up with her father with saucer-sized eyes filled with desire. "I've sent in at least 100 submissions, but I'm worried that I won't get it!"
"Trouble? Ha! As if…! I'm Justice Minister Inga! I get what I want, when I want! So if I wanna get my Rayfa a Plumed Punisher clock, then I'm gonna get her a Plumed Punisher clock! Heck, I've got so much clout that I even get stuff that I don't want!" Just ask Ga'ran…
"Oh, thank you, Father! You don't know how much this means to me!" Rayfa rejoiced as she squeezed her father in a bear hug.
"Don't mention it, Rayfa. I'll have that clock here so fast that the manufacturers' heads'll be spinning!" Inga smirked as he chomped down on his cigar stamp.
"Whaddya mean you can't get me a clock?!" Inga roared, squeezing the life out of his poor cellphone. "I'm the show's freankin' producer and writer! If I want something Plume Punisher-related, whether it's a shirt or mask or tennis shoe that I'll shove up your ass, I'm getting it, end of discussion! And if you've gotta problem with it, I can sign ya right up at the top of my execution list, Mr. Mah'nu Fac'tor!"
"B-But, Minister Inga…" Mah'nu nervously stammered. "The contest… it ended yesterday and we're currently delivering the clocks to the homes of the lucky recipients. So as much as I'd love to give you a clock- and trust me, I really, really would- there are none to give."
"Then make one or I'll have one made out of your skull, see?" Inga snarled through clenched teeth.
"But… But that would put the number of clocks at 51…"
"So, make a 51st clock. What are you, daft?"
"Oh, no, no, nooo…" Mah'nu said with a definitive tone of apprehension. "If word gets out that we produced a clock solely for Her Benevolence, the entire Plumed Punisher fan base will go mad! Our company can't afford any more angry mobs!"
"Really…?" Inga sneered. "You do realize that the show's fan base consists mainly of small children, right? Even I could fight 'em of!"
"Don't underestimate the might of children, Inga. Last month, we released a Plumed Punisher action figure that accidentally had an orange cape instead of a red one and the fans reacted by breaking five of our factory's windows, assaulting three guards who tried to stop them, and attempting to light the building on fire. If it wasn't for the police showing up, we would've been done for!"
"Oh right, I remember… You reported that a group of Defiant Dragons were attacking the place, but all my boys found when getting there were a bunch of brats running away with their tails between their legs."
"Yes, so if they found out about us producing an extra clock for Her Benevolence, coupled with rising Defiant Dragon support among the youths because of yesterday's not-guilty fiasco… Holy Mother, I don't even want to think about what would happen to my poor factory!" Mah'nu bemoaned.
"Well, then give me the mailing list! And don't you try none of that 'we respect our customer's privacy' crap! 'Cause Rayfa made us sign up for the Plum Punisher Post phone service and you mooks are always calling me at ungodly hours of the damn night!"
"Minister Inga, as long as Her Eminence keeps giving us tax exemptions, we'll give you whatever documents you want." Mah'nu said in a smug, sleazy tone- a complete 180 from his emotional state mere seconds prior. "Just give me a minute to email them to you..."
"Now that's what I like to hear." Inga smirked.
"Oh, while we're on the topic, Minister Inga, how would you like to join the Plumed Punisher Email Patrol? Only five dahmas a month to get breaking news on all Plumed Punisher related merchandise."
"Don't push your luck, buddy." Inga growled.
"R-Right, s-sorry…" The CEO stated as he reverted back to his meek nature.
Later, in the precinct's conference room, Inga paced back and forth, staring at the officers who were standing at attention in neat, orderly rows.
"You are some of the most capable men in our great kingdom, forged from extensive physical and mental training to be the best crime fighters you could be. Is this true?"
"Sir, yes, sir!" The officers shouted in unison.
"Well, that's what I though until yesterday when you lazy bums and that useless chief prosecutor made a mockery of my courtroom with that Blight guy getting that Ahlbi brat a non-guilty verdict… Ahlbi, for cryin' out loud!" Inga growled as he glared daggers at men. "Now, any other guy wouldn't hesitate to fire the lot of you, but because I'm so kind and merciful, I'm willing to give you mooks a second chance, see? Now, are you ready to redeem yourselves?"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"In that case, listen up because we can't afford to waste time." Inga stated as he took out a clicker, which upon pressing turned on a projector that flashed a picture of Rayfa in her smug pose on a large screen at the front of the room. "This is Rayfa, your princess and my lovely daughter. Now, because of your shoddy work yesterday, Rayfa is now…" The screen transitioned to a picture of Rayfa with a sullen expression on her face. "Sad. So how are we gonna fix this problem? Simple..."
After fiddling with the clicker for a few seconds, Inga managed to transition the screen to a picture of the Plumed Punisher clock.
"We get this clock for Rayfa. Now, after talking to the spineless mook running Chee'opo Toys, I found out that there is a single clock being delivered as we speak in this cart…" A picture of a simple cart with a yellow banner depicting a broken cartoon robot head and the name 'Chee'opo Toys' written in Khura'inese nailed to the side was flashed on the screen. "which will pass through this location here." A map of the capital city with an 'x' placed over a specific intersection near the Bazaar appeared on screen. "Now, your task will be to split into three groups and intercept the cart and bring the clock back to me. Understood?"
"Sir, yes, sir!" The officers stated in unison once again.
"Now, given the importance of this mission, failure is not an option, see? So if this job goes down the tubes, I won't fire you. No, that'd be too nice. Instead, I'll make each and every one of you watch a video of Ga'ran dancing around in THIS!"
Inga transitioned the screen to a picture of Ga'ran posing seductively in a tight, see-through purple negligee, causing most of the officers to burst out in fits of screaming, their wide, unblinking eyes unable to look away from the screen, with those of slightly stronger constitutions being able to power through the horrid imagery and cover their faces.
"That's right…!" Inga stated with a maniacal, toothy grin and saucer-sized crazy eyes. "Gaze upon the abject horror! Bask in the unholy splendor of those painted on, masculine eyebrows, those thick frog lips, and that menopausal belly fat! Flee from this room and complete your mission as the image of what I have to go home to every night is burnt into your minds and souls for all eternity!"
Upon being dismissed, the officers wasted no time in fleeing from the room screaming. However, one officer, instead of rushing out of the building with the rest of the secret police, snuck down a nearby flight of stairs and into the dimly lit, vacant basement of the precinct and took out his cellphone.
"Is the apple orchard clear?" A deep, hushed voice asked.
"The horse trots through the pasture." The officer whispered, holding the cellphone close to his cheek as he carefully eyed his surroundings to make sure that he was truly alone.
"Good to hear, Nee'spee!" Dhurke bellowed. "Anything from the enemy front?"
"That depends, are you going to be quiet for once?" The rebel snapped as he nervously scanned the area. "I can't spy on the secret police if I get arrested because you can't use your inside voice!"
"Sorry, Nee'spee." Dhurke stated in a quieter tone. "I'm still getting used to having a spy in our ranks."
"Clearly..." The Defiant Dragon said with a roll of his eyes.
"So, what news do you bring?"
"Big news, Dhurke. Inga has sent the secret police on a mission that could very well be our biggest blow to the Ga'ran regime yet. Essentially…"
Nee'spee told Dhurke everything that Inga had told him and the other officers, including the Ga'ran negligee punishment- if he had to suffer with that imagery, then so would the rest of the rebels.
"Holy mother of the Holy Mother…" Dhurke responded with a tone of shock and awe. "Is this true, Nee'spee?"
"Trust me, Dhurke. Who in their right mind would make up such a sick punishment…?" Nee'spee stated with a shudder. "Almost makes me feel sorry for Inga… almost."
"Well, go out there and continue your work while I rally the Dragons present with me. And remember, Nee'spee, a dragon never yields… After we claim the clock, that phrase will provide you strength when Inga punishes you and the rest of his thugs with that video."
"Yes, Dhurke." The spy said with a nod before ending the call and rushing back up the stairs.
In Dhurke's dusty, insect-filled law firm, the leader of the Defiant Dragons, with Datz at his right, stood before a group of about 20 or 30 other rebels.
"Fellow Defiant Dragons, lend me your ears…!" Dhurke assertively stated with a raised hand. "After talking with our new spy within Inga's secret police, Nee'spee Po'nage, I have learned of an important opportunity… one that will allow us to land a crippling blow against both the secret police and Ga'ran in one fell swoop! We shall steal… a Plumed Punisher Clock!"
Upon hearing this news, a wave of confused murmurs spread about the room like wildfire, the other rebels concerned as to whether their brave, charismatic leader had finally gone mad.
"Now, I know this may seem like a fool's errand, but rest assured, it isn't. You see, Inga has devoted every ounce of manpower he has to steal that clock. Why would Inga do such a move, you may ask…? Apparently, Her Benevolence was so devastated by the Fighting Phoenix's victory yesterday that she needs that clock to get out of her sullen state. And that's where we come in…"
"You mean we're getting the princess a clock?" A stern-looking bald-headed man wearing a yellow and red robe asked. "Look Dhurke, I didn't become a dragon to suck up to the royal family."
"And we're not, Su'urnd." Dhurke calmly replied. "Think about it, if we are in possession of the clock that Her Benevolence desires so badly…"
"They'll have to bargain with us if they want it back, or run the risk of no Divination Séances..." A man with wavy, black hair waring a cap and a green robe stated with a sly grin. "I like the way you think, Dhurke."
"Exactly, Smu'Glese. This clock can serve as a powerful trump card in our quest to rid the land of Ga'ran's corrupt rule and the DC Act! That is why I am putting Datz in charge of claiming the clock, which will be in a Chee'opo Toys cart that will be passing through the intersection of Ga'ran Street and Amara Avenue outside of the Bazaar…" Dhurke stated as he put a firm hand on Datz shoulder. "while the rest of you distract Inga's goons and so that Datz can do his part of the mission. Dragons, soar forth and strike with unyielding might!" Dhurke bellowed at the top of his lungs, holding his arm out and clenching his fingers to resemble a dragon's maw as his fellow rebels descended into the sewers.
However, Dhurke quickly stopped Datz before he could leave.
"Datz, before you go, I need you to send word out to the other dragons in the field to head over to the Bazaar and fight any members of the secret police they come across."
"Can do, Dhurke!" Datz replied with a toothy grin and two thumbs up. "Anything else?"
"Hmm…" Dhurke cocked his head to the side for a brief moment, contemplating the situation before returning focus to his right-hand man. "Yes, in order to ensure victory, we need to rally as many people as we can muster, even if they aren't dragons."
"Got any particular groups in mind?" Datz asked as he peeled an apple with his kukri.
"Indeed." Dhurke said with a sinister grin. "One whose presence will be as powerful as it will be ironic..."
About 15 or so minutes later, Inga was sitting in his office, with several walkie-talkies placed on his desk, when suddenly one of them, with a large 'A' written in marker on a piece of tape attached to the side beeped, prompting the Minister of Justice to answer it without hesitation.
"Leader A, what's your status? You got the clock?"
"Yes, Minister Inga. We found the cart right where you said it would be and have claimed the clock for ourselves." Officer Reesig Neede calmly replied as he held the Plumed Punisher clock in his free arm like one would a baby. "Preparing to- Officers, ready yourselves! We've got company!" The veteran law enforcer stated in an uncharacteristically panicked tone.
"Neede, what the hell's going on out there?" Inga asked with a tone of mild concern, not for the officers, but for the clock. If something were to happen to it, there'd be no way he could face Rayfa.
"Dragons, and lots of 'em!" Reesig yelled as he punched a rebel who was charging at him in the throat with the hand holding the walkie-talkie before tripping another one with a low-sweeping kick.
"Dammit, Dhurke…!" Inga snarled as he slammed his fist on his desk. "Look, Neede, as much as I'd like to see you guys put the kibosh on those Defiant Thorns, the clock's our main priority, see? So leave those mooks alone for the time being and get back to the precinct."
"Trust me, Minister, I would love to do that…" Reesig stated as he delivered a powerful elbow to a rebel's jaw, forcing the man to the ground with a stream of blood trickling from the side of his mouth. "But these damn rebels got us surrounded! And to make things worse, I sent Ooute to a prime spot to provide cover fire for just such an emergency and he hasn't confirmed his position since we left!"
"Ok, just keep your mitts on that clock for as long as you can. I'll send one of the other groups your way." Inga put down the walkie-talkie and grabbed one with the letter 'B' on it. "Group B-"
"Not a good time, Minister Inga!" The officer yelled as he and his teammates fought against several rebels. "Dhurke's goons got us pinned down! We need backup and we need it now!"
Upon hearing this news, Inga picked up the third and final walkie-talkie with the letter 'C' on the side. "Group C, what's your status?"
"Minister Inga! Thank the Holy Mother you called!" The office screamed. "You won't believe the hell we're going through!"
"Let me guess, you're being attacked by the Dragons." Inga groaned.
"No, worse! Somehow, The Plumed Punisher fans got wind of the clock and are swarming us like army ants in search of it! We don't know how long we can- Holy Mother above, the fat, creepy adult male fans have just arrived…! And they have brooms and plastic-"
"Officer! Officer, do you read me!?" Inga yelled into the walkie-talkie, but all he could hear was the crackling of static. "Dammit!" The Minister roared as he slammed the defunct walkie-talkie on his desk. "Of all days and all the places in Khura'in to strike, Dhurke just had to choose the area where Rayfa's Plumed Punisher clock is! Did Ga'ran give him pointers on picking the worst times to screw me over?! Because this isn't Dhurke's normal shtick- too aggressive and large-scale, even for that loudmouthed blowhard…"
Inga got up and walked over to and looked out a nearby window that gave him a nice view of the city from his seventh story office as he thought of how to handle the situation.
"No matter what Dhurke's trying to do, he needs to be stopped. I can't risk losing that clock because of those idealistic mooks. …Well, if Dhurke and his Defiant Douchebags wanna play hardball, then I'll be more than happy to play his little game…" Inga smirked as he pulled out his cellphone and made a call.
"Hello?" A cold, yet calming male voice stated upon being connected with the Minister.
"Execute Operation Avian Princess. Head to the intersection at Ga'ran Street and Amara Avenue and make sure the Plumed Punisher Clock there remains in police custody. Use any means necessary to ensure your success, even if ya got to gut a few dragons to do so."
"Yes, My Minister." The voice replied before ending the call.
"Well, Dhurke, you and your boys think you can mess with the Plumed Punisher? Well, let's see how tough you are when her inspiration cuts ya down to size." Inga sneered as he chomped down on his cigar stamp.
About 10 minutes later, despite the valiant efforts of Group A, the officers had been overwhelmed by the Defiant Dragons. Exhausted, Reesig laid on his side next to his downed fellow officers, his arms wrapped around the Plumed Punisher Clock like a clamp as Datz stood over him, giving him his infamous smirk.
"This… This is the best the big, bad secret police had to offer? I've had meals that put up more of a fight than that!" Datz joked, bursting out into laughter and pointing at the downed officer.
"Screw… Screw you, Are'bal!" Reesig panted as he flashed the rebel a death glare. "We… We would have won… if you damn rebels… weren't such cowards… with your damn ambush!"
"We aren't cowards, we're strategic." Datz stated with a more serious countenance. "You've gotta be when you're hunted down like a dog 'round the clock. Now, why don't you be a good sport and hand over the clock?" The rebel grinned as he started to peel an apple with his kukri.
"Over my dead- ugh…!" Reesig grunted as a sharp pain rushed through his side.
"Oh my Holy Mother, you're so pathetic that it's funny!" Datz chuckled as he burst into another fit of laughter before quickly calming down with a sigh. "But in all seriousness, I'll be taking that clock now."
Datz bent down to take the clock for himself and the Defiant Dragons, but before he could, he was interrupted by one of his fellow rebels.
"Wait, who's that?" The man said with a confused look, pointing to a figure standing a bit off in the distance dressed as Lady Kee'ra.
Datz, upon looking to see who the rebel was referring to, predictably burst out into laughter.
"Hahaha! Um, buddy, hate to break this to you, but it's a bit early for Khura'ineen!"
The figure- a disguised Rheel Neh'mu- was unresponsive, completely speechless and motionless as they stared at Datz.
"Oh, I get it. You're one of those obsessive Plumed Punisher fans who's pretending that they're from the show and are here for the clock. Well, sorry to break this to you, but this clock has been claimed by the Defiant Dragon for the sake of your freedom. So-"
Rheel slid a warbaa'd dagger from his sleeve and pointed it at Datz.
"Ooh, a plastic dagger!" Datz melodramatically bemoaned with a grin on his face. "Watch out, guys, 'she' might scratch you!"
Suddenly, without a single moment of warning, the Rheel dashed towards the rebels at a breakneck pace, appearing as a yellow and black blur as he began to cut down every Defiant Dragon in his path.
"That's no fake dagger!" Datz exclaimed with a look of terror in eyes as he watched this Lady Kee'ra slicing down his comrades one by one as if they were mere blades of grass, leaving their lifeless corpses to rest in a crimson sea of blood.
"Datz, what should we do?! She's literally killing us!" One of the remaining rebels asked with a tone of panic.
"Only one thing left to do, fellow dragon: tactical retreat! Make your way back to the rendezvous point!" Datz replied as he ripped the clock out of Reesig's hands with surprisingly little effort and began to make a run for it into the Bazaar.
However, Rheel, not willing to let Datz escape, dashed in front of him, pointing his blood-stained dagger at the high-ranking rebel.
"So, you want a piece of Datz Are'bal, eh…? Well, who am I to disappoint?" Datz smirked as he pulled down his goggles over his eyes and took out his kukri.
Without a moment of hesitation, Datz and Rheel were engaged in the heat of battle, their movements swift and their attacks powerful as their blades hit against each other with loud, metallic clangs. But despite the two combatants both possessing great skills, the battle was slightly tiled in Rheel's favor since he, unlike Datz, was free to use both hands and didn't have to worry about letting go of the clock, as seen by how the disguised officer was able to push Datz back into the Bazaar with his offensive prowess. However, there was one thing about Datz that made him a great combatant, no matter how rough the situation got: he wasn't afraid to fight dirty.
As the two warriors' blades were locked, Datz noticed a warbaa'd sitting peacefully on a perch in front of one of the stalls and hit his elbow against the wooden structure, causing the majestic beard to let out a loud 'roar' in self-defense, distracting Rheel for a brief second. However, despite its brevity, this small window of time was enough for Datz to ram his shoulder into his opponent, causing Rheel to drop his dagger as he flew back into a nearby stall.
"I'll take that." Datz announced as he picked up the warbaa'd dagger, holding it in the same hand as his kukri. "Can't let this sword harm any more rebels now, can we?"
The second-in-command of the Defiant Dragons, having disarmed his enemy and sending them crashing into a stall, was sure of his victory and began to make his escape. However, Datz's overconfidence made him commit one of the most common, and deadliest, mistakes a combatant can make: turning their back on an opponent who's been yet to be confirmed as unconscious, restrained, or dead- a mistake that quickly showed itself in Rheel rushing over to Datz and tackling him to the ground.
Meanwhile, in the Inmee household, Tahrust and Maya were engaged in a friendly game of Kachu'demahl at the kitchen table when Beh'leeb brought them a plate of homemade magatah'men.
"Are either of you hungry?" Beh'leeb asked as she placed the plate on the table.
"You know it, Mrs. Inmee!" Maya chirped as she wasted no time in stuffing a magatah'man in her mouth and was grabbing for two more.
"Thank you, Beh'leeb. I cannot voice the wonderful job you do at taking care of us… perhaps a little too well." Tahrust grinned at the sight of Maya enthusiastically shoving magatah'man after magatah'man into her mouth as if they were her last meal.
"Think nothing of it, dear. You, Maya, and Puhray are my family, and I will not sit idly by when I can make your days better."
"Such a wonderful outlook on life, dear Beh'leeb; one that brings a smile to Her Holiness' face!" Tahrust jovially bellowed before a worried look spread across his face. "But speaking of Puhray, have you seen him? It's not like him to miss a rousing game of Kachu'demahl."
"Yes, when you were using the restroom, Puhray burst forth from his room and, in the most urgent tone, told me of how he had important business to take care of, running out of the house before I could even ask where he was going." Beh'leeb sighed as she gazed down towards the ground with a worried look in her eyes. "I do so hope that he will be alright, what with all the civil unrest caused by the rebels and secret police alike. After all, Puhray is such a sweet man who would never so much as harm a fly…"
Meanwhile, Rheel had Datz's back pinned to the ground, his knees pressed against his shoulders, as he repeatedly punched the rebel in face before reclaiming his dagger.
"Yes, Puhray is a soul most kind and with not the faintest inclination of hostility, but you must remember, dear Beh'leeb…" Tahrust closed his eyes and clasped his hands together. "the Holy Mother is watching over Puhray, and She would never allow harm to come to one whose only desire is to bring others closer to Her."
As the Head Priest was saying this, Rheel was trying to stab Datz in the throat as the rebel held back his foe's dagger-wielding arm with his free one.
"You're right, darling. The Holy Mother will ensure that Puhray is treated with nothing but the utmost kindness and respect by all those who he comes across.
At that moment, Datz mustered his energy and delivered a powerful kick to Rheel's stomach, sending the disguised officer flying off of him and landing with a thud on his back a foot or so away.
"More Magatah'men, please!" Maya chirped, flashing Beh'leeb a pair of puppy dog eyes as she extended the empty plate towards her.
Not wanting to take any chances, Datz quickly got back on his feet and, with a bit of parkour expertise that he learned from the military, made his way to the rooftops of the stalls and started running. But, much to the rebel's disdain, Rheel had made his way up to the roofs as well and began chasing after him, with the two warriors jumping from roof to roof like fleas. However, all good things in life must come to an end, and rooftops were no exception to this, so with his back to a the streets of Khura'in and the embodiment of the nation's ancestral warrior charging at him, Datz had no choice but to jump down onto a yak-drawn cart that was passing by, with Rheel following suit. Upon hearing the commotion occurring in the back of his cart, the driver turned around to see what was going on, only to accidentally get an elbow to the face from Datz, sending him tumbling out of the cart as his noble beasts of burden continued onward.
Thus, their final arena was established- a small, confined cart with little legroom, forcing the two combatants to rely on their skills with the blade as the yaks became spooked with each loud clang, prompting them to run down the road faster and faster as the fight progressed. And while Datz could have easily jumped out of the cart at any time, he knew that if he did, his foe would simply do the same, thus compelling the rebel to try to take advantage of his formidable strength to overpower his more-agile opponent and end the fight right then and there. So that's exactly what Datz did, clashing blades with this mysterious fighter as the cart ascended up a narrow path into the mountain range near Mt. Poniponi.
Meanwhile, Free'aka, who had been braving the rugged landscape, finally made his way up to the top of the small mountain that he was assigned to and prepped the RPG that he was carrying, loading it and taking aim through a crosshair down at the fighting occurring near the Bazaar.
"O-Ok, Free'aka, you can do this! You've come all this way through that forest filled with snakes and tigers and mud! You just have to aim at those rebels and blow them to smithereens just like Mr. Neede instructed. Mr. Neede's a nice man, you can't let him down, Free'aka, because if you do, he'll hate you, and so will Minister Inga, and he'll make you watch that video of Her Eminence!" The high-strung officer took a deep breath as he scanned the area below for rebels. "Just calm down, Free'aka, just caaalm down… You can't find rebels unless you're calm. Gotta be cool like ice… cool like Minister Inga… cool like- Those rebels assaulting those poor officers! Oh the humanity! Why won't they stop punching them?!" Free'aka bemoaned at the sight of his fellow officers' distress. "Well, they won't be punching for long in three…" The officer steeled his gaze. "Two…" Free'aka licked his lips as he tried to keep calm. "One…" The anxious officer's shaky finger hovered over the weapon's trigger.
However, right when Free'aka was right about to fire, a butterfly flew in front of his crosshairs, the weapon's magnified lens working against him as his vision was greeted to a sea of vibrant purple for a brief moment, prompting him to scream and jerking to the side as he inadvertently fired his weapon towards the road below.
Though despite the direction of fire being severely off, the grenade did manage to interact with a rebel as it hit the cart that Datz and Rheel were fighting in, exploding and sending the two combatants tumbling down a nearby cliff into the forest below.
Fortunately for Rheel, he was able to use his dagger to his advantage by stabbing it into the cliff he was sliding down, allowing him to come to a stop as he hung from her weapon on the wall of rock while seeing Datz use a few small, black parachutes with the Defiant Dragon logos on them from his satchels to glide safely towards the forest below.
Not willing to let Datz escape with the clock he was sent to retrieve, Rheel pushed off the cliff with his legs and pounced forth in an attempt to take down the high-ranking rebel- a strategy the proved successful as Datz's parachutes snapped from the additional weight, sending both men falling into the forest.
Thanks to the protective armor that he wore under his Lady Kee'ra robes, coupled with the fact that he had Datz to cushion his fall, Rheel was pretty much unscathed while the rebel beneath him struggled to remain conscious. Though right as Rheel was about the claim the clock- which had surprisingly survived the fall with nary a scratch- and complete his mission, Datz used the last of his energy to toss the coveted item over to a Defiant Dragon who was hiding in the forest, who, upon catching it ran off into the woods, before passing out.
Rheel could have chased after the rebel, but he knew better. Thanks to his training as both a monk and an assassin, he knew that once someone ran off into a forest like this, finding them was nigh impossible thanks to the thick brush, multitude of trees, and plethora of caves that were connected in a network of sorts. Plus, to chase after that rebel would mean not arresting Datz, the second-highest ranking member of the defiant dragons. So, despite going against his original mission, Rheel decided to stay with Datz, restraining the rebel's arms and legs with some rope that he kept on his person before calling Inga up on his cellphone.
"So, you get the clock?" Inga sternly asked with a hint of hope in his voice.
"No, My Minister, the rebels escaped with it into the woods, but I did not come out of this conflict without a reward, for I have apprehended Are'bal. I know that this does not excuse my failure, and I vow to track down that clock without rest while continuing with my new rebel-hunting duties."
Inga sighed. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Neh'mu. Sure, I'm a bit disappointed that you didn't get the clock, but with Are'bal in our custody, we'll sweat its location out of him with some good old fashion interrogation."
"But out of curiosity, how do you plan on doing that, My Minister? Obviously, such a hardened rebel, especially one as dense as Are'bal, isn't going to crack very easily."
"Trust me, Neh'mu, I don't give a damn how much those rebel mooks preach 'a dragon never yields', a round or two of watching Ga'ran dancing around in a negligée is enough to break any man's will… especially when the pudding cups come into play." Inga smirked. "So bring Are'bal over to the station so we can get his trip to Royal Penitentiary Number Four squared away."
"Yes, My Minister." Rheel replied as he ended the call.
Inga then proceeded to pick up the walkie-talkie for Group A and called Reesig.
"Neede, what's your situation?"
"Better, Minister… I don't know what got into them, but the rebels all of a sudden decided to retreat from the area like a bunch of rats fleeing a sinking ship. Sure, we're a bit banged up, but we'll survive."
"Good. Now, I'm gonna need you guys to do a special mission for me, one that involves paying a certain foreign prosecutor a little visit…" Inga stated with a sinister grin.
Later in Gaspen Payne's surprisingly plain-looking office, the Chief Prosecutor was filling out some paperwork when suddenly Reesig and two other officers entered the room.
"Well, hello there, officers." Gaspen smirked as he tapped on his toupee. "How can I help… Why are you staring at me like that?" The sleazy prosecutor nervously asked, a few drops of cold sweat starting to trickle down his brow. "And why are you closing the door?"
"Don't worry, Payne. Minister Inga just sent us here to discuss your new position..." Reesig sneered as he took out a rope.
"Then why do you have a rope with- NOOOOOO!" Gaspen screamed in a shrill tone as the officers accompanying Reesig tackled him to the floor.
"Objection!" The Chief Prosecutor shrieked as he struggled under the two officers. "This is no way to treat your chief prosecutor! I am a highly revered man in both this country and my form-"
Gaspen was cut off by Reesig knocking the pathetic slime ball out with a swift blow to the head.
"Thank the Holy Mother, I've been wanting to do that ever since Minister Inga brought on that looser." Reesig sighed as he focused his attention to the other officers. "All right, boys, Let's get the Incredible Payne back to Minister Inga for his 'makeover'."
Later that evening, Inga stood by Rayfa's bed as he tucked her in nice and tight for the night, lightly brushing the back of his hand against her cheek as she slightly wriggled under the covers to get comfortable.
"Once again, sorry I couldn't get you your clock, Rayfa." Inga sighed with a look of disappointment.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Father. I love the temporary clock that you've made for me! It perfectly captures the spirit of the Plumed Punisher!" Rayfa chirped as she stared at her new 'clock' in the corner of the room, which consisted of Gaspen wearing a Lady Kee'ra robe and a special pair of gloves that had an illuminated digital clock attached to them, along with a brace underneath of his garments that kept he arms extended outwards. All the while, the Rookie Humiliator's feet were incased in a large block of concrete, preventing the sniveling coward from fleeing his new job as sentient clock.
"Glad you like it, Rayfa. I made it with love." Inga smirked as he gazed upon his handiwork, which was trembling at the arms.
"I'm sorry about that acquittal yesterday, sir! I learned my lesson and it'll never happen again! So can I please go home?" Gaspen whimpered.
"You're darn right it won't happen again, 'cause you've been officially relieved of your duties as chief prosecutor. But look on the bright side, you've gotta brand-new career helping out Rayfa. Speaking of which, it's officially ten o'clock, so you know what that means…" Inga smirked as he looked down at his watch.
"Please, Minister Inga, I don't want to…" Gaspen pathetically groaned.
"Sing, darn you!" Inga snarled as he took out a remote control from his pocket and pushed the big, red button in the middle of it, delivering a painful electrical shock to the former Chief Prosecutor, prompting him to sing the Plumed Punisher theme song in a series of sobs.
"That's more like it." Inga smirked as he chomped down on his cigar stamp. "Ok, Rayfa, if the clock doesn't sing for you on an hourly basis, or any time you're in the mood for some Plumed Punisher fun, just press this button." The Minister of Justice stated as he handed his daughter the remote control.
"I shall remember that, Father. I wish you a good night's sleep." Rayfa cheerfully replied.
"You too, Rayfa. Sweet dreams." Inga stated, kissing his daughter's forehead before turning out the lights and exiting the room.
"Time to lull myself to sleep with the Plumed Punisher theme song." Rayfa stated as she used the remote control, delivering another painful shock to Gaspen.
"Your Benevolence, please show mercy!" Gaspen pleaded. "I am but a humble servant of the Holy Mother who just wants to go home and get some sleep!"
"You dare defy me, o irreverent clock? I am the princess and royal priestess of this glorious nation, so if I desire that you sing, that is what you shall do!" Rayfa angrily proclaimed as she glared daggers at her new clock before delivering another painful shock to the Incredible Payne.
"You can't do this to me, Your Benevolence! I am a human being!"
"Sing for me, Clock!"
"Objectioooooooooon!" Gaspen shrieked as Rayfa delivered yet another agonizing electrical shock to the Rookie Humiliator.