Chapter 89: Enchantress?

Chapter 89: Chapter 89: Enchantress?

Victor barely had time to be shocked before Popo’s axe came down again.

He rolled.

It struck the dirt where his head had been. Another swing, and he rolled again, scrambling across the ground like a rat.

Fuck! Fuck!! Fuck!!!

The third attack came and Victor caught on Vigil at the last second, but the force of it knocked the sword clean out of his hand.

The moment it left his grip, he felt it. The +5 stamina drained out of him, and his breathing turned rough and ragged.

His back was already bleeding, soaked warm down to his waist. Normally the Dire Lion’s mane would have defended that strike.

But somewhere in the fight with Vrok, the mane had slipped off his shoulder, and that was the moment Popo chose.

Victor wondered how such a thing never happened to superheroes. Still...

Note to self. Permanently sew the mane to my clothes.

Victor looked up at his brother, chest heaving.

Off to the side, Vrok turned and laughed, the gash across his body still dripping. "Good! Good, good, good! You saw your people were losing, and you came to save me, right! You’ll make a fine slave."

Popo looked at him like he was something stuck to his boot. "This has nothing to do with you. I’ll take your head after I’m done with him." His mouth curled. "And I’ll tell the tribe I defended the chief against the son of the orc chief, and avenged his death."

Victor’s frown deepened. Even he had to admit that this was a perfect excuse.

They would buy it, and The tribe would remember Popo’s valor. He had been chief before, so slipping back into the seat would be easy. And suddenly Victor felt a regret he’d never expected to feel: that he hadn’t ended Popo when he had the chance.

He had read stories where brothers backstabbed each other. But this was Popo. The same Popo who had nearly died for his character when they were little. The same Popo who had always put his little brother first. Even in the game’s lore, his love for Milkshake22 was clear. Losing the duel wasn’t enough to twist him this far. The Popo he knew would have been proud.

So what’s pushing him?

Then his eyes drifted past Popo and caught a figure standing under a tree branch in the distance.

Foto.

Her eyes were fixed on the two of them. You have got to be kidding me.Does she hate me that much?

"I’m your brother," Victor said. "What are you doing?"

Popo raised his axe. And in his eyes, Victor saw something flash. Dark. Quick.

It was familiar... he had seen it in the eyes of characters in the game when they were under a... spell.

He knew everyone in the tribe had unlocked mana by now, but this was different. Victor glanced again at Foto and then he saw her fingers working at her side, a thin thread of black energy coiling between them.

Shit. She unlocked something too?... Enchantress.

Victor suddenly understood why those manwha’s had protagonists killing people with petty grievances towards them.

It was to eliminate future problems like this.

Should he have also killed Foto from the very beginning?

It was not like she showed her fangs... until now.

Popo’s axe came down for his head again.

Victor rolled, caught Vigil with his fingertips and felt the stamina flood back, and threw the blade up in time to block. But Popo kicked it out of his hand again.

The stamina drained. The axe lifted for the killing blow.

Victor’s mind raced. Words. He needed words.

"Have you forgotten?" he said. "Mother. What she said before she died. She told you to look after your little brother. Are you going to go against her will? Is this what she wanted?"

Their father was for the sake of honor, but their mother... oh that was personal. Enough to snap a strong willed person like Popo out of it.

It worked. The black in Popo’s eyes seemed to waver for an instant. His arm hesitated.

"END HIM!" Foto screamed.

The dark swallowed his gaze again, and the axe swung down.

Shit! It’s over.

Victor attempted at using the mane to block.

CLANG.

A broadsword caught the axe.

Kiki.

Victor had never been so relieved in his life. She drove a straight kick into Popo’s chest and sent him stumbling back.

"This is treason," she said, her voice cold and clear. "A disgrace to the ancestors and to every Barbarian. You raise your blade against your chief in the middle of a war, and stab him in the back. You are nothing but a... COWARD."

The word landed. The shadow in Popo’s eyes cracked fully. He looked at Victor, then at Kiki, jaw clenching, visibly torn.

Behind him, Foto opened her mouth.

Popo looked back at her. He gritted his teeth. Victor could have sworn that he saw tears in his eyes. Then he turned and ran.

Foto froze. She cursed under her breath, glared at Victor, and fled after him.

Kiki leaned down and hauled Victor to his feet.

Wow. She’s always here to save me. At this point I’m more of a princess than a chief.

"Didn’t I tell you you’d regret leaving him alive?" she said.

Victor blinked. "You know about that... But he’s your betrothed..."

Kiki’s face went flat. Eyes on him as if yo beat him up, but was merely respecting his station. She turned away without a word.

What did I say this time?

She walked toward Vrok.

The orc was dragging himself backward across the dirt, bleeding but nowhere near dead. Most of what Victor’s cuts had hit was fat, not organs. He was far from fresh, though. He was in no shape to fight a Level 5 Barbarian.

"Hey, barbarian woman," Vrok said, edging away. "How about this? Kill that fool you call chief, and I’ll make it easy on you. You’ll become the best slave I have. I’ll even make you head of all my slaves. I won’t let any orc touch you. Well, once a week. No. Once a month. Wait." His voice cracked higher. "I’m the son of the chief! Do you know who my father is? He will rain fire on your whole land if anything happens to me! My father is..."

Kiki’s broadsword swept across his neck.

The head tumbled sideways into the dirt.

"Trash!" She spat, looking at her sword in disgust.