I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.

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The Bigger They Are...

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I'm being fitted in my new armor: all jet-black metal with golden trim, a breastplate with the shape of a muscular torso in front and a display of sharp spikes behind, gauntlets and boots emblazoned with the symbol of the Mipedian tribe, and a horned helmet similar to the one I wore in the M'arrillian war.

"The people of Middle Earth shall all fall before me," I growl in a deep voice as I look at myself in the mirror.

I hear several of my assistants cracking up behind me. The Mipedian helping me with my armor doesn't get the joke, though. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I sigh. I clench and relax my hands, testing the gauntlets' flexibility, then test the range of movement of my arms and legs. In the mirror, Sauron, Lord of Mordor copies me. "I was just commenting that this kind of armor is usually seen on a villain in Human fiction."

"Huh," the Mipedian grunts. He clasps a blue cape around my neck and steps back. "Done."

The armor feels heavy. I can tell it's going to slow me down, but without the invisible force field Ulmar's invention granted me during the war I absolutely need a solid wall of metal to protect me. And I'm going to need that protection soon.

We almost made it to ten solans of peace. Almost.

Bylkian did his best to persuade his fellow conjurors against taking violent action against otherTtribes, but one refused to listen to him any longer: a member of Bylkian's own camp, Drimesse. He and several like-minded conjurors attacked an Overworld supply line. King Iflar is sending my army out to arrest Drimesse and his accomplices. We leave tomorrow.

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Fifty infantry, thirty Mipedians wearing only the bare essentials, plus twenty Humans wrapped in almost as much armor as I am. Malvadine's in that group.

Fifteen cavalry, all riding Skeletal Steeds, automaton horses that cannot be spooked by battle. Mudeenu and Maliph are with them.

Ten muges, absolutely critical for this mission, because conjurors are also skilled in the use of mugic. Among the muges are Sobtjek, Tiaane... and my daughter, Hera.

I had argued with Iflar that she was too young, that thirty solans was far too soon for anyone to enter combat, but it seems the rules are slightly different for royalty. Mudeenu's first combat experience was at the age of thirty. Iflar first fought at the age of twenty-five.

I then stated that Iflar cannot force anyone to enter military service before they were legally an adult. Then I learned that Hera had volunteered. After throwing the most dignified tantrum I could muster, I gave in.

"She'll be fine," Maliph says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"I'm not worrying," I lie unconvincingly.

Maliph snorts. "Then you wouldn't be glancing back all the time."

"Well, let's see why I'm worried," I growl. "We're heading to Ra'opa Shakk to arrest a clan of conjurors. They are most assuredly not going to come quietly. And Hera wants it to be 'Take Your Daughter to Work' day."

Maliph doesn't reply. Good. Too bad Hera is too stubborn to see that this is a bad idea.

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Drimesse is not happy to see us. He calls out some kind of command as my army approaches, and all thirty conjurors in his camp line up to meet us. I stop my Skeletal Steed a somewhat safe distance away before calling out, "Drimesse! You are under arrest for the unprovoked attack against Overworld civilians-!"

"Our enemies, if Your Highness remembers correctly," Drimesse sneers as he walks forward. The other conjurors fill in the gap left in the row as they watch. "King Iflar seems to have forgotten that the Overworlders are not the friends of the Mipedians."

I slide off my mount and take a few steps forward. "The Overworlders have respected the peace treaty between our tribes for over a decade, the treaty drawn out and signed by both Maxxor and Theb-sarr."

"A tool to ensure our victory during the M'arrillian war," Drimesse counters, storming to within arm's reach of me, "and now a barrier between us and the elimination of those foul creatures."

It's bait. He wants me to argue, so that he can trap me with my own words. "Drimesse, you and your clan will surrender to us and be escorted to Al Mipedim, or we will beat you down and drag you there."

Drimesse bares his teeth. "You cannot do such thing to a fellow Miped-"

I raise my hand, and Drimesse stutters in surprise. I slide a small scroll out from the sleeve of my gauntlet, unroll it, and read, "'To ensure the protection of the people of Al Mipedim, and to prevent action from being taken against them for the crimes of their brothers, I, King Iflar, do revoke the citizenship of Drimesse and his co-conspirators. For example, as they are no longer Mipedian citizens, the people of Al Mipedim are not required to come to their aid if they are attacked by foreign powers. However, they will still be offered those protections if they submit themselves to the law. Signed, Iflar, King of the Mipedian People. Witnesses to the signing, Osiris, Prince of Al Mipedim, and Maxxor, King of the Overworlders.'"

I roll up the scroll and return it to my sleeve while Drimesse stares, dumbfounded. He seems to recover quickly, though. "We don't need your protection," he spits as he walks back to his clanmates "and here's why!"

I feel the ground rumble beneath my feet. I turn and run from the source of the movement, towards my army. "Warbeast!" I bellow. "Infantry, weapons ready! Cavalry, ride around and disrupt the conjurors summoning them! Muges, prepare-!"

The ground heaves upwards, and sand flies everywhere as a dark blue, serpentine form erupts. Its scales begin to glow with bright blue runes, and its mouth flies open to reveal many rows of sharp teeth. Its head pitches forward, and a tremendous roar turns the air around it into a furious sandstorm.

The wind catches me, lifting me into the air and throwing me many feet. I hit the ground, roll, and leap to my feet with the momentum. For a second, all I can do is stare.

"Titanix." I'm terrified. I can't move at all. I-

A voice behind me shouts, "Osiris, get down!"

I drop to the sand, and a searing ray of heat blasts over me, hitting the warbeast directly in its ugly maw.

I rise to my feet, draw my cyclance, and aim it at the monster. Out of the corner of my eye I can see another warbeast drop from the sky, and I can hear the roars of another nearby. The light and sound of mugic flows from both sides of the battle, and fire and air and rock spiral across the battlefield.

I pull the trigger of the cyclance, and a bolt of lightning burns a hold through Titanix's head. The warbeast shrieks and spasms, then dissolves into glowing sand.

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Five conjurors still stand, the others unconscious or surrendering. The last of the summoned warbeasts, Ere, a giant flying cobra, lays headless in the sand, twitching as it dissolves.

I limp forward and point my sword at the five. "Your beasts have failed you, and you're all out of mugic. Don't make this harder than you already have."

Drimesse has a wild look in his eyes. "I will not bow to you!" His tattoos start to glow, and light starts to collect around the five.

I drop my sword and reach for my cyclance. I need to disrupt the summoning, they could be calling any kind of dangerous beast-

Glowing chains erupt from Drimesse's fingers and wrap around my weapon as I aim it, and my cyclance buckles under the pressure and breaks. "Ha!" Drimesse laughs. "Run! Run while you still can!"

The lights surrounding the five conjurors collect behind them, forming into a large stone. Air begins to spiral around it, twisting into six funnels. The stone shapes itself into a head and torso, and the wind funnels become four arms and two legs. The warbeast, Blazvatan, shakes its head, then opens its glowing violet mouth and roars.

"Run or die!" Drimesse cackles. "You cannot hope to beat-"

The conjuror to Drimesse's left slumps over, his mugic power exhausted.

Drimesse's gloating dies in his throat as he stares at the unconscious creature. His eyes widen as, one by one, the other conjurors also fall. He turns around and looks up at Blazvatan.

The newly summoned warbeast shivers with its eyes closed. Streaks of lightning dart through its tornado arms and legs, and glowing cracks appear in its body.

Drimesse takes a step backwards, but the warbeast snatches him off the ground. Blazvatan's eyes open, and it roars at the conjuror, its mouth now glowing red. Drimesse screams in pain as the creature tightens its grip.

The smart thing to do would be to let the warbeast burn itself out, now that Drimesse has lost his control over it.

Sometimes I'm not very smart.

"Drop him!" I bellow.

Blazvatan blinks, then looks down at me. The arm that holds Drimesse winds back, then throws the conjuror at me. Drimesse collides with me, knocking me to the ground, then slides across the sand behind me.

I don't have time to get back up when a heavy weight presses on my chest. Blazvatan's foot presses down on me, and I'm only spared by my armor, armor that even now I can hear groaning in protest.

Blazvatan's foot grinds a little, and the warbeast roars. It lifts its foot up and prepares to stomp.

A young voice screams, "Fortissimo! Save my dad!"

The creature's foot comes down, and I put my hands up. The massive collection of rock and wind, weighing maybe as much as a mountain, comes to a complete stop as it hits my hands. I push, and Blazvatan stumbles backwards. I stand up, my eyes now level with the beast's.

Fortissimo is a simple but powerful mugic. Those subject to its power become, oh, about the same size as Blazvatan.

Blazvatan recovers its footing, and it charges.

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Up next: The Harder They Fall

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