Finally. I swear I wanted to have this one up like a week ago... alas. Sorry for the delay! And thank you for the reviews! Seriously, you have no idea how much I appreciate your comments. Yeah, the fight scene was definitely my favorite part to write last chapter. Hopefully this chapter proves that Craig and Clyde deserve each other, because they're both idiots.

Please enjoy!

On the dawn of the third day, Craig woke to the repeated buzzing of his phone on his night stand. He was ready to curse out whoever was calling him this early, but instead of a phone call he found a series of rapid-fire texts.

r u awake?

need u

bring hats k

Craig didn't know whether to sigh or to scowl. He wound up yawning, and texted back.

I'm awake now. Thanks for that.

Granted, he was the one who forgot to put his phone on silent, but still… why wasn't the text icon disappearing? Craig backed out of his conversation with Clyde and sure enough, he had another unread message. It was sent about twenty minutes earlier from Cartman.

You're a fucking traitor, Craig. We're coming for you.

Craig smiled contently at the screen while his phone buzzed twice more, suddenly not minding the rude awakening. It was a good day.

opps! sry :( :(

redy 2 make it up 2 u tho ;)

...Or was it. He stared at the winky face for entirely too long before shaking his head. It was probably supposed to be a colon, or Clyde was just being his usual self. Seriously, he was never one to think too much about his words, actions, or even texts, and Craig needed to stop reading into them. What he did need to do was help conquer the land of Zaron, so with that in mind he got ready, dug up a box of extra hats, and went next door.

He vaguely wondered if anything would be different today, now that he had his official elevated status and new base. When he stepped into Clyde's backyard, he was far from disappointed. Vampires and sixth graders alike hailed him and cleared a path. Even one of the undead cats greeted him reverently with a brush against his legs. This in particular shouldn't make him feel powerful, but it did.

"You," he said to a nearby older boy with an eye taped to his forehead, "carry this for me."

"Yes sir, right away." The cyclops relieved Craig of the box and followed him dutifully as he scaled the fortress. Yeah, it'd be a good day. Everything he'd worked for had finally come to fruition, and he'd be damned if he let anything ruin it, even – no, especially – any of his mixed up feelings about Clyde. Today was for hanging out and conquering stuff, plain and simple.

So with that decided, Craig solidified his resolve and entered the throne room.

"Hey," Clyde greeted slyly, "what's goin' on?"

…That was a very good question.

"Hi Clyde," he said uncertainly as the cyclops set down the box and left them. Clyde's smile only grew as he lounged against his throne, thoroughly satisfied. Was this seriously how he responded to victory? It was like he'd been voted cutest boy all over again. Not that Craig disagreed with the assessment, but it made Clyde utterly unbearable at the time.

"Hey," Clyde said again. "So how's your day goin'?"

Kind of like how he was starting to be now. "Quit it. We just executed the greatest betrayal in the history of Zaron and that's awesome, but they're still going to try to get the Stick back. You can't be all smug when we need to prepare."

Clyde didn't seem to get it right away, but when he did, he deflated. "Oh."

Craig felt a small pang of guilt, but suppressed it. They were friends, and aside from that that, he was his chief assassin right now. He didn't have to be all sensitive just because Clyde was; he was terrible at it anyway. Maybe it was a good thing that they would never-

No, none of that. He was focusing on the game today.

"I have been, you know. Preparing," Clyde clarified, getting down from his throne. He led Craig over to a craft table that held a small collection of art supplies along with a notepad, a few cyclops eyes, and a whole bunch of round emblems. "See? I made a rulebook," he said proudly. Craig was already picking it up and flipping through it. It began at 'Dark Lord Clyde rules all' and ended with 'Cartman eats shit.'

"It's good," Craig said with an approving nod.

"Good! I made these for everyone too – here!" He grabbed an emblem that was clearly set aside from the others and fixed a piece of double-sided tape to the back before rounding on Craig. Craig waited for the personal space invasion, but this time, it never came. Instead Clyde stopped abruptly short of it, and after a moment slowly held the emblem out to him instead. "Um, here."

"…Thanks." Craig ought to be relieved, but he couldn't help feeling a twinge of disappointment.

"Do you like it?" Clyde asked, prompting Craig to refocus and actually look at what he'd been given. The emblem was black with the white circled skull of their banners, and had a red ring around the outer edge. It was almost identical to the ones stacked on the table, the 'almost' being because unless Craig was mistaken, his was a bit neater than the rest.

"Yeah," Craig said, brushing his thumb over the symbol. "You made all of these?"

"Yep," Clyde said with carefully constructed nonchalance. "Figured my evil minions should get something all cool and unifying and stuff for pledging their allegiance to me. Obviously my chief assassin gets his first."

"Obviously." Craig put down the rulebook stuck his emblem just below his shoulder so he could tug down his cloak a little to cover it in combat. He already decided he wanted to keep it after the game, and he didn't want it ruined.

"And you saw the rules about your boss powers and immunities?"

"Yes. So I'll get my shadow clones soon?" Craig glanced back at his hat box.

"I promise," Clyde nodded. "And then there's that other thing you asked for..."

Craig froze. Somehow, against all reason he'd convinced himself that the whole kiss thing just wouldn't come up again and they'd both safely pretend it never even happened. No such luck of course, because here it was, coming back to bite him in the form of some vampire chick Clyde probably already had picked out and everything.

Well, forget it. That was yesterday's grave, and there was no way he'd lie in it today. "I don't want that anymore."

"Wha- you don't?"

"No. I thought it would work out – like, for my character – but it doesn't." There. Perfect.

"But-"

"At all," Craig interrupted quickly. "Besides, there's something else I want instead." There wasn't, but since he needed to steer them away from this conversation forever he went with the first thing that popped into his head. "Animals."

"…What?!" Clyde's expression was a mix of unbridled horror and disbelief.

"Animals," Craig repeated. "You know, formidable allies that I can take into battle with me? Like cows, or," what else did South Park have? "Cows."

Clyde let out a relieved sigh. "Okay," he said, though he still seemed dispirited. What was up with him today? Before Craig could decide whether or not to ask, Clyde continued. "If you can go get them, I'll have the army make space for them here. I'd come with you, but I need to go to the graveyard with Vampir and the others."

"You couldn't do that last night?" Craig raised an eyebrow.

"I was going to! But you know how the vampires are; they didn't want to-"

"-get in trouble, yeah," he finished. He didn't like it, but it did make sense.

Clyde nodded with an apologetic smile. "Don't worry, though. Naturally you have all the resources of the army at your evil disposal, including any henchmen you want to bring to help out."

"That's okay," Craig decided. "It's nothing a level thirteen thief can't handle."

The easier route was to take the sidewalk all the way down and head north at the railroad, but that would take him past the Zaron and Larnion territories. Even with their kingdom's abolished, both ex-factions were bound to be pretty pissed so Craig tried a more evasive route to the farm by heading northeast through the markets.

He had nearly arrived when he came across a horde of rats ravaging a cat. "Hey!" he shouted as he picked up speed, trying to scare them off, but the rats didn't seem to be bothered. At least not at first, because they did scurry away before he reached them. Craig found out a moment later that that was because the cat was no longer moving.

"Fucking rats," he muttered, pulling out one of his many refilled vials of Taco Bell sauce. It would make it all okay. "Want revenge?" he asked the cat as it slowly reanimated.

"DURCH EURE SCHULE!"

"Thought so." Craig took to a run after the rat horde, cat minion quick on his heels. The pursuit took them to the U-Stor-It and the muffled screams of a dying princess trying to shake them off.

Craig paused, more out of surprise than any sort of malice, but resumed the counter-assault when his cat minion charged fearlessly forward. It only took moments for him to slay the horde of murderous vermin, and save the princess to boot. For his first day of being openly evil, it was all very heroic.

"You saved me!"

"Not on purpose."

She broke character to glare. "God, Craig, are you ever not an asshole?"

"Well excuse me, Princess. Going to do something about it? I don't see your army," he challenged, taking out another vial of Taco Bell sauce in the meantime. Hopefully a bit of necromancy would make up for the heroism. Besides, who was he to waste perfectly good dead rats?

Princess Kenny watched this reanimation silently. Craig's cat minion hissed, displeased, but the rats stayed in line and stood at attention, much to his approval.

"Want to know where they are?" Princess Kenny then asked, almost casually. "What they're planning?" There was something undeniably conspiratorial to her tone that got Craig's attention. It takes one to know one, after all, and suddenly Lady McCormick wasn't so easy to dismiss.

"Whatever it is I'm not falling for it," he said carefully.

Princess Kenny chuckled and twirled her hair. "There is nothing to fall for, traitor." The designation didn't sting; it wasn't meant to. "I offer only truth. Think of it as an exchange, should you like."

"And what could you possibly want from me."

"Well," she pretended to think, "do you have any more of that?"

Craig followed her eyes to the empty vial in his hand. "No way. Undead minions are our thing," he said harshly.

"How fortunate, then, that I'm not interested in that."

"Uh huh. Then what do you want it for?"

"Maybe I'm having tacos later."

"Fine, you don't have to tell me, but you don't have to get anything from me either. Find your own." He turned to leave.

"Wait. The remaining factions have formed an alliance to destroy you."

Craig snorted. "Is that all?" He'd suspected as much anyway, and he wasn't impressed.

"We mean to recruit the pirates."

"Kindergarteners. Terrifying."

"The Federation."

"Isn't that just Kevin?"

"The girls."

He paused. "No way. You can't get girls to do this."

"Maybe not me," she said slyly, "but what about Douchebag?"

…Shit.

She had him there, and she knew it. "He's in the abortion clinic for them right now, you know, finding out who the two-faced bitch is. I bet you anything it's that slut Rodriguez," she mused, idly admiring her nails.

Okay. So they were probably going to get the girls. Craig considered the Army of Darkness and concluded that with the new recruitment efforts they'd be just fine, but still, it was good to know. "And instead of helping them, you're here helping the enemy."

"Something like that," she winked. "It'll be our little secret. So?"

After a moment of consideration, Craig pulled out a full vial of green sauce and handed it to her. He didn't care what she did with it. Besides, it's not like Clyde had the monopoly; if she wanted it that badly, she'd find a way to get it regardless. Maybe that was what she was doing out here in the first place.

"You have my thanks," she said graciously.

"Whatever." He would keep this meeting in mind, but whatever Princess Kenny was planning, he really didn't think it involved him so he really didn't care. He had stuff to do.

"Wait," she said, stopping him yet again and moving closer. "You saved my life, dear traitor. Please accept this token of my royal gratitude."

Oh, crap. "Don't-" he started, but it was too late; she leaned in to kiss Craig on the cheek, and he in turn promptly buckled and lost the contents of his stomach. "H-Hate you…"

"Teeheehee."

Princess Kenny skipped off, leaving Craig to unsteadily drag himself further down the street as he tried not to retch again. He failed on two counts. Trying to keep his animal minions from eating it was half the battle – and did absolutely nothing for how grossed out he still was when he reached the hobo he was looking for.

"I'll give you a good price… uh… just take it," he wisely handed Craig a cure potion before he had the chance to throw up over his wigs.

"Thanks," Craig managed, feeling better once that was out of his system. He got a small health potion there too, snacking on it to restore his energy as he headed up to the farm.

Fucking Princess Kenny. She was lucky Craig hated Cartman more than her.

Nazifying cows proved to be quite easy when Craig found three of them dead. He supposed he hadn't considered what he would do if they weren't. Regardless, it all worked out, and he left the farm just minutes after his arrival with a small army of a cat, rats, and now cows in tow.

"Stay with the rest of the army when we get to the fortress," he told them as they reached the marketplace on the way back. "You'll like it, Clyde has the coolest base. He is a dark and terrible master- hey, stop!" he snapped at the rats as the group began to scurry ahead. They didn't listen, focusing instead on getting to – another cat?

"HALT!" Craig demanded. That did the trick. "You guys are officially demoted from minions to slaves," he told the rats sternly as he stomped past them to see what the fuss was about. It turned out that it was a cat – a living one.

"Mrow?" It innocently flicked its tail.

"Sorry, kitty. The Army of Darkness only accepts creatures of the dead," he explained.

"Mrow…"

Craig hesitated. Thinking about it, most of the animals he had seen at this point – smaller ones especially – had been killed in one way or another. What were the odds that this one would stay alive and okay on its own? It was certainly possible, seeing as it'd made it this long, and yet…

"All right, kitty. You still can't join the army, but maybe you should come with us anyway. Not all of the zombies out here listen to us – even though it says clearly in the rules that they have to – but you'll be safe at our fortress."

"Mreow," it replied contently, taking a few slow steps forward. Craig smiled and met it halfway, kneeling to pick it up. That's when it happened: an elven arrow soared, and landed true. The cat was killed instantly.

Everything seemed to still for Craig as he turned his head up slowly, greeted by the sight of a full party of elves. The archer was already stringing another arrow. "Die, traitor!"

Craig calmly pulled out what was left of his last vial and let the green liquid drip over the fallen feline. Then he put the vial away and stood. As he rose, so did the cat, joining the assemblage of zombie feline, rodent, and cow.

It took their growls and hisses for the elves to realize their mistake, but Craig didn't care. His eyes narrowed coldly. "Let's rumble."

The elves never stood a chance.

CATS RECRUITED (5/5)

QUEST COMPLETE: CAT ORGY

QUEST COMPLETE: REVENGE

LEVEL UP!

"The chief assassin returns!" A vampire kid exclaimed.

"Inform the dark lord," Vampir replied.

"That's stupid," Craig said shortly. "He'll be informed when I go talk to him. Besides, I have another job for you. These animal minions – and rat slaves – need to get situated. The cows fight with me, and just put the rest wherever they'll be most useful. Also, search the town for any small animals that are still alive and bring them here." They had nothing to do with the game, after all, and if he could still protect some he would. He was just glad that Stripe was staying safe in his room – something he was now making his sister text him regular updates on.

The two vampires shared a quick look before Vampir spoke up. "Quests like that are a little beneath our levels, per se…"

"Is that so. I'm so sorry. What's your rank here?"

"General."

"Okay. And what am I?"

Vampir hesitated, but Craig's stare was unrelenting. "Second in command."

"Oh, that's right. I am. Looks like you have to do what I say."

"Right away, sir," Vampir said, looking around quickly. Craig passed him, withdrawing to the fortress. He didn't care if he delegated, he just needed it done.

This time Craig didn't have to go as far as the throne room to reach Clyde, finding him instead on the fourth level amid at least a dozen other fourth graders. Clyde didn't seem to notice his arrival, but that was probably because at least half of the other kids were also Craigs, practicing with their daggers, playing with their cloaks, or just lounging about while others chatted.

Only one boy didn't particularly fit, but Clyde was in the process of fixing that, reaching up to pull one of Craig's hats over the blonde's head.

"There," Clyde said, satisfied, but only for a moment before he blinked up at the boy. "Actually hold on, some of your hair is still- here," he put one hand on his shoulder and reached the other up to his face. Then the tips of his fingers brushed against his cheek as they concealed the stray lock of blonde hair beneath his blue hat.

Craig glowered.

Clyde lingered. "Wow." They were so close; why wasn't he stepping away? Why weren't either of them? "You look so much like him…"

The blonde smiled. "That's good, right?"

Oh, fuck this right here. This was not okay. The real Craig stalked forward and snatched his hat clean off of the impostor's head. "He looks nothing like me."

They both jumped at his intervention. "Craig?" Clyde asked, sounding surprised and maybe even a bit guilty, but Craig wasn't paying attention to him right now, instead focusing his anger at the would-be clone.

"Take that crap off," he demanded. Was he- was he taller than him? "Now!"

The blonde scrambled away, quick and fearful. At least he knew his place. Of course, Craig only realized once he was gone that the room had fallen into silence at his outburst; some of the other clones even shared hesitant glances.

Clyde was the one who finally spoke up. "But Craig, he looked almost exactly like-"

"No, he didn't," Craig shut him down promptly before taking a short look around. "You," he decided, tossing his hat at one of the non-Craig fourth graders, "you'll take his place. Congratulations." This inspired a small round of polite applause from the other shadow clones.

In the meantime, Clyde grabbed Craig's arm and pulled him aside. "Seriously?"

"Yep. He looks way more like me."

"Craig, he's black."

"…I don't see race." He crossed his arms pointedly. Craig was glad Token wasn't here. Anyway, who cared if they didn't look similar? It was his clone army. He should get to decide who was and who absolutely wasn't invited.

Thankfully, accusing the dark lord of misguided racism worked like a charm; Clyde became flustered immediately. "I-I don't see race either!" he insisted.

Yeah, declining Craig's offer to join them was definitely a smart move on Token's part.

"You're right," Clyde went on, "now that he's got the hat on, he looks like, way closer than the others. The others!" he repeated suddenly, letting go of Craig to gesture to the rest of the clones. "So yeah, here it is, your own personal clone army. You guys can all stay on this floor too, like, as your new quarters. I trust this meets your approval?" he asked, with more concern than ceremony.

Craig opened his mouth to question this, but then realized how unfair he was being.

Clyde had obviously worked really hard on everything, and Craig was just being a pissy prick in return. Damnit. What happened to today being a good day? Stupid elves; stupid blonde kid. Craig felt like he should maybe apologize, but wanting to avoid anything potentially awkward, made an effort to smile instead.

"It does. This is actually really, really awesome," he said, finding it easier to sound genuine when he truly was.

"Yeah?" The dark lord perked up hopefully.

"Oh, absolutely."

"Well, good." And just like that Clyde's grin was back, pure at first, before turning mischievous. "Hey, let's go up to the evil throne room for a minute? There's something you've got to see."

"Sounds cool."

"C'mon!" Clyde didn't even hesitate before grabbing his hand and pulling him along, and Craig was proud of himself; he didn't give it a second thought.