Questing Sucks (Book 1) (66 page)

“How dare you speak without my permission!” Sehn shouted at him. He leaned in close to the Champion and rummaged around in the man’s pockets, removing a satchel. He held it upside down and poured the golden coins contained within into his hand. With a satisfied grunt, he tossed the emptied bag to the ground and shoved the money into his own pocket.

“W-W-What is Sehn doing?” Saerith croaked.

Patrick gulped. “I think he just robbed the Item.”

“Oh, Gods,” Saerith moaned. “It looks really pissed off now. S-Sehn! What are you…? Gods, Patrick, he’s peeing on its shoes. Sehn! Stop peeing on the Item’s shoes. You’re going to make it even more upset! Just look at the face of it or him, or whatever he or it is. It’s getting angry!”

Sehn shot both Patrick and Saerith an angered glare. “If I were you two,” he said. “I’d be far more concerned about MY anger. Not only did you two hide from me the fact that you lived, but you commanded an entire army without my permission.” Sehn, while keeping his eyes on Saerith and Patrick, pointed his thumb casually behind him at the Champion. “You two shall be punished severely after I fuck this thing up.”

Patrick tried to hide the desperation in his voice but failed. “Sehn, you don’t understand. That thing…it’s like a God.”

Sehn threw his arms out and his face lit up with obviously faked fear. “Whoa? It’s ‘like’ a God? It’s…LIKE a God? Oh, no, if only we had a real God around. Oh, wait a minute…we do! Silence,
Fooltrick
. I have this matter under control.”

Did he just call me
Fooltrick
?”
Patrick thought
. My name is PATRICK!

The Champion roared. It was an inhuman wail of desperation. This time, when the earth shook, Patrick knew it wasn’t the Cockaliths.

Chapter 57: The Elf with the Human Tongue, Part II

 

Sehn wasn’t positive, but there was a small chance that he might have gone too far. At least, that’s how it seemed when the Champion—or Item, or whatever foolish title they gave this insignificant man—tilted his head back and roared with rage, causing the earth to shake and snow to fall from the tops of mountains.

The Champion’s voice contained both the high-pitched shriek of a bird swooping in on prey and the low, rumbling grunt of a snoring bear. The moment his ever-present shout caused the world to spin, Sehn looked frantically around him and into the faces of Saerith and Patrick. The two were worn and dirty, nothing at all like the princely men they’d been the last time Sehn had seen them—especially Patrick. The Human prince’s hair was a ridiculous mess, and his clothing was as filthy as someone taking a mud bath. Saerith, though, didn’t fare much better—rather than dirt, he was covered in blood. Pieces of grass and leaves stuck to him, using the blood as an adhesive.

Sehn shuffled uneasily on his feet. He was nervous and impatient. At the rate things were going, Saerith and Patrick were going to believe that someone other than Sehn had the ability to make the earth shake, and that would make him look weak by comparison. This was bad. This was really bad.

I need to act now,
Sehn thought.
Otherwise, they’ll think . . . they’ll think I am less powerful than someone!

Sehn tilted his own head back and released a similar-sounding roar. “
Raaaaaghhhh
!” he cried. “
Raaaaaghhhh
! Everyone look at
meeeee
. . . everyone look at
Sehnnnnnnn
! The only reason the earth is shaking right now is because I am
shoutinnnng
!
Raaaaaghhhh
! This other asshole has nothing to do with the earth shaking. That is one hundred percent
meeeee
. . .
Raaaaaghhhh
!”

Flocks of spooked birds fled across the valley, while both predators and game alike scrambled as far away from the Champion as their legs would carry them. Above, the Mages of the Order ignored the man’s roar and continued to rain down some kind of pathetic, girly-looking magic on the black-armored soldiers, putting them to sleep and ceasing the hostilities.

There were sparks of different colors from each of the mages, and Sehn wondered if any of them had even the slightest shred of dignity. Seriously, Sehn would rather die than be caught using a spell that shot something pink at an enemy. It didn’t matter, though—it was to Sehn’s advantage. He would personally execute each one of the sleeping soldiers once he was done with the Champion.

The Champion’s roar stopped abruptly, and Sehn slammed his hand over his mouth so that he too would stop roaring at the same moment the Champion did—otherwise, Patrick and Saerith would figure out that he wasn’t really the one causing the earth to shake. Not that . . . not that Sehn cared, or anything. He could make the earth shake if he really wanted to—he just didn’t feel like it. It’s true!

Hah!
Sehn thought.
If I wanted to, I could fart out a tornado and ride it back to Elvar.

Sehn nodded to himself. It all made sense. The only reason he didn’t snap his fingers and instantly vaporize his enemy was because that wouldn’t be fair, and Sehn required a challenge. But he COULD if he really wanted to, and that was the important thing to take away from all this.

“Sehn!” Saerith hissed.

Sehn shook his head and looked over to Saerith. “What do you want, peasant?”

“Y-You . . . you’ve been standing still rambling to yourself for almost five minutes. Not to rush you or anything, but.” Saerith pointed. “That man is about to kill you.”

Sehn coughed, choking and gasping on his own saliva as he caught the movement from the corner of his eye. The Champion’s rock-covered blade was mere inches from his face, gripped tightly by the man’s coarse hands. Sehn dove to the ground, rolling to safety only precious seconds before his head was split vertically in two. The Champion’s blade connected with the valley’s grassy surface, and the impact sent blades of grass and dirt scattering.

Sehn, ignoring his pained muscles, pushed off his palms and quickly got back to his feet. He glared at the Champion. “I wasn’t ready yet you dishonorable bitch!”

The Champion didn’t respond. Instead, he raised his blade and charged. With his catlike eyes and quick, frantic movements, he resembled more of a tiger than a man. So, he didn’t wish to exchange words, did he? Sehn didn’t care. If the man was this eager to die, Sehn would be happy to oblige.

“Remmos Salas!”

Sehn’s blade reignited at the same moment the Champion reached him. For some reason, Patrick and Saerith crouched to the ground and placed their arms over their faces while ducking their heads. There was a grunt, and then the Champion, as if using a sledgehammer, brought his blade down on Sehn, who without hesitation brought his own up to meet it.

When the two weapons connected, Sehn thought his arms would fall off. The man was strong—there were no two ways about it. Sehn struggled against the Champion, gritting his teeth and planting his feet in the ground. It felt like an anvil had been dropped onto his chest.

After a moment, there was a small flash of light, followed by a piece of flaming rock appearing from the point where the two blades crossed. It soared just over the spot where Patrick’s head had been a moment before. It was odd, but even more so was the fact that Patrick had let out a high-pitched shriek.

Still struggling, with the blade bearing down onto his chest, Sehn grunted out through trembling teeth, “P-Patrick! Y-Your bitch-to-manliness ratio just decreased by thirty-four percent. I demand your resignation on my desk in Elvar by Monday!”

Sehn had more to say, but the Champion pulled back. The weight lifted off Sehn for just a moment, and then the Champion attacked a second time. Sehn growled as he met the crushing blow head-on, causing another wave of shock to travel down his arms and numb him from finger to elbow. Another meteorite-like thing soared low over the grass, crashing into a nearby rock formation and dissipating. The Champion repeated the maneuver, and again Sehn feared that his arms would be removed from their sockets.

“Be careful!” Saerith warned. “This is how he weakened Kellar!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Sehn yelled back. “I got this.”

Sehn knew what the Champion was attempting, but it wouldn’t work on him. It was obvious that the Champion wanted to bludgeon Sehn until the sword was ripped free from his weakened arms. But the Champion’s plan had one major miscalculation—Sehn was incapable of weakening, for he was the sum of all the power contained in the universe. Though, all that universal power did little to stop the shock in his wrists each time the Champion hammered him.

“Move!” Patrick demanded. “Sehn, get out of the way.”

Sehn ignored the foolish prince. He wasn’t some coward that ran from a challenge. He straightened his back and stiffened his legs, gripping his blade even tighter and preparing for the Champion’s next assault.

“Stubborn little one,” the Champion whispered. He grinned as he raised the rock-blade over his head. “Thank you for making this . . . easy for me.” He brought it down with another grunt, and Sehn stopped himself from flinching or looking away. The anticipation of the pain was worse than the pain itself.

The two blades connected, resulting in a shower of sparks followed by a fist-sized meteor that Saerith and Patrick leapt away from. This time, Sehn thought for a moment that his arms had actually fallen off. But with a nervous sigh, he realized they’d only numbed. The blade slipped a little from Sehn’s fingers, but he regained his grip before the sword left them completely. Again the Champion readied himself to strike.

I can’t handle another attack,
Sehn thought, panicked.
Damn it all, but I can’t.

When the Champion brought his weapon down, Sehn jumped back a few paces, filling with disgust at the need to retreat. It was a vile and sickening feeling. Him, The Great Sehn, forced to move away from danger. Yet, seeing the ground literally explode upon contact with the rocky-blade, Sehn realized he’d made the right choice.

“He moves at last,” the Champion whispered, “and here I was, hoping to end things quickly.”

It took a great deal of effort for Sehn to keep a hold of his Elven blade. His arms, from the tips of his fingers up to the blades of his shoulders, trembled and convulsed like they’d just been the target of his idiot sister’s lightning magic.

Sehn inhaled, calming himself. He twirled his blade and circled around the Champion, searching for an opening. When the Champion’s arms rose above his head and his stance widened, Sehn found the opportunity he needed. He dashed forward and leapt into the air, flipping once while whirling his blade down on top of the Champion’s.

The man reinforced his weapon by placing his palm on the base of the rocky-blade’s hilt and pushing upward at the same moment that Sehn’s blade connected—the result was a force that sent Sehn flying backward through the air in the same direction he’d come from. Sehn landed on the balls of his feet with a thud, falling into a crouch and raising his blade defensively.

Sehn, panting and sweating profusely, stood back to his feet on aching legs. “You don’t die easily, do you?”

The Champion looked over his shoulder at the two princes then back to Sehn. “I . . . do not die at all, actually.”

“Hah! We shall see about that.” Sehn rotated his shoulders and neck, working out the kinks in his strained muscles. “Perhaps it is time you learned that—Ah!” he shouted. “W-w-what the fuck is that!” Sehn pointed to something behind the Champion. “Watch out! Seriously, look behind you!”

“Hmm?”

The Champion turned around, and Sehn laughed ruefully. “You fool!
Remmos Salas! Remmos Salas!”

The fireballs sped through the air towards the back of the man’s head, and before the Champion could fully turn to Sehn, they connected with the side of his face, causing a loud smack. The Champion groaned and stumbled a bit before tripping over his own feet and landing roughly on his back.

Sehn jumped into the air with a fist raised in victory. “Yes! Yes! YEEEEEEEEESSSSS! Suck on that! This is what happens when you . . .” Sehn paused when he saw the Champion trembling on the ground in anger. This wasn’t good.

“And you speak of honor!” the man with the catlike eyes cried. In an instant, he was standing again, and an instant after that, he was rushing towards Sehn. If his attacks contained a wild anger earlier, Sehn knew that now they would contain a fury from the depths of hell. But what could Sehn do to stop him?

The Champion advanced, and unlike before, he didn’t attempt to bludgeon Sehn. This time, he used form and tact. He slashed vertically at Sehn, gripping the hilt of his weapon with both hands. Sehn parried and nearly dropped his blade—the man seemed to have doubled in strength. He attacked five times in lightning-quick succession—head, body, head, body, and head again. Despite the massive power behind his blows, he still managed a speed that pushed Sehn’s own agility to the limit. Five more meteorites scattered in random directions around the plains.