They readied themselves, drawing their weapons: Terminus' massive, hooked sword and Lato's thin rapier.
I activated Silky's power again.
Rust rose. "I will assist you."
"Sit," I commanded him.
He sat.
"This is my fight."
Terminus came first, swinging for my head, I ducked and struck his chest with a palm strike, feeling his sternum and several of his ribs break, and watching as he exploded from the back. He recovered quickly, however, and feinted a downward slash, but switched it up halfway to a right swing. I leapt over his sword and punched him in the face so hard that with a loud pop, his head flew straight off.
His body stumbled for a minute, but quickly began to form a new cranium. In the meantime, Lato attacked with quick jabs to the abdomen, which I slapped to the sides and proceeded to grab him by the throat and throw him back against Terminus, who now had a functioning head again.
The two recovered and prepared to fight again. I walked toward them slowly, intentionally raising the aura I gave off for intimidation.
They were unfazed and came at me simultaneously, and this time, they meant business. I managed to avoid their series of sword slashes, jabs, and various ethereal attacks and kick Lato way up into the air, then proceeding to grab Terminus by the face, knock his sword out of his hand and leap up after Lato.
I caught up to him and began my attack. Coating my arms in red lightning and flames, I flung Terminus through the air like a weapon and struck Lato.
Eventually Terminus managed to get out of my grasp and countered to the best of his ability. Together, he and Lato challenged me.
Our fight was intense, and the two of them did well. But in the end, their efforts meant nothing.
I punched Lato in the back and blew his innards out of his abdomen, while I punched a hole in Terminus' chest and grasped his heart.
I let Lato fall, as he was unconscious. But I held Terminus, who was fading in and out of consciousness.
"Why did you never trust me?" I asked.
"A piece. . .who does. . .as he pleases is. . .is of no use. . .to the king," he choked out quietly. "But. . what about. . .what about you? You. . .you have not. . .trusted me for. . .for some time now."
"A little birdie told me," I whispered.
"A name. . ."
"Corbin Tyler," I murmured.
I felt his heart skip a beat.
"You know him?" But he had passed out.
I dropped him and then slowly floated down to the ground again.
"This," Rust said, almost speechless. "This is unbelievable."
"I need them locked away," I told him. "Are you able to put them into Chaos?"
He shook his head. "I would need the approval of all of the rulers of the Cities."
"I see. Then what about te Underworld?"
He nodded. "I can do that."
-
"Almost immediately after we announced the imprisonment of Latorakena the White Tactician, and Caelis Terminus the King of Heroes, Lato's forces surrendered, and our own forces were confused, concerned, and skeptical.
"I explained the situation as best I could, and some were swayed to believe, but others thought me a traitor. And perhaps I was.
"Soon after, I helped Rust establish a new system of power. The Thirteen Cities would still have their leaders. However, they would not have the same power. They would be limited to management of their cities. The districts that they ruled over were overseen by thirteen inter-dimensional lords. Chosen by Rust, Xorn, and myself.
And thus, the Fifth Age ended."
"Well, that's a long story, Lord Scribe."
I laughed. "Indeed," the storyteller admitted. "But I am always happy to tell it."
"Do you ever worry about Terminus or Lato escaping?"
"Why would I worry about that? Or anything for that matter. The Fifth Age was not limited to the Third Great War, other things happened during this time that brought about some of the greatest powers known today, many of which are greater than me. Indeed, even now, I feel something is on the verge of occurring that will bring about the strongest power ever seen in the Rift."
The men all looked at each other, confused, but excited.
Then one man walked through the crowd to face the storyteller. He was dressed in poor clothing, nothing particularly notable about that, but his eyes. His eyes were a golden hue that seemed to shine.
"I have searched for some time to find thee," he said. "How luck should be on my side, that I should find thee in a tavern not so far from mine own home."
The storyteller eyed him cautiously. "Who might you be, stranger?"
"My name is Orion," he said, lifting his face. "Though, thou might know me as the Saint of Broken Blades."
The storyteller raised an eyebrow.
"I have come to offer thee a role in the coming times."
"Doing what?"
"Watching the greatest power in the Rift take shape."