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The Immortal Kobold

Xing Lei had achieved the apex, surrounded by friends and family he stood at the final gate before achieving true immortality, surviving this last tribulation would mean the completion of his lifes struggle. But we all know the heavens are blind and spiteful. Before Xing Lei can achieve godhood he is struck down Reborn in a land as foreign to him as possible, he must crawl back to the final stage, but not as a man. So begins the task of the Immortal Kobold. * Note: I don't own the image used for the cover art, if the one who does wishes me to remove it, just let me know.

Darth_Xiane ยท Fantasy
Not enough ratings
143 Chs

On The Hunt

The streets of the capital had broken down into open warfare, the average citizen had taken to barricading themselves in their homes and shops, while contingents of knights and demi-human slaves roamed the vacant streets, often meeting each other for violent skirmishes. A few of the slave groups were actively assaulting the outer wall gate house to try and let the forces of Silvertree in, the guards at the gate house found themselves repelling enemies on both sides of the wall, and while the elvish army was better equipped and coordinated, they weren't expecting gangs of former slaves to assault their wheel house from the city streets.

Xing Lei himself walked through the chaos like not one inch of it was his doing, his foot steps carried him towards the looming stone castle that rose along the cliff face at the center of the capital. It seemed the old king had had some insight, surrounding his fortress on one side by the nobles and the other side by the base peasants, in a sense it could be seen as paying favor to both the upper and lower crusts of society until one realized the peasant check point was a fort in itself, serving as the main barracks for the city's militia, rarely if ever, had the king come through that road to greet the lower caste of society.

In the distance, many houses of the noble quarter were already burning bright, knights and militia both were deployed to quell the rioting thus allowing a small reptilian figure to scale the low quarter barracks uncontested while the militia were busy tracking down the rioting former slaves. The castle itself was pretty standard in Xing Lei's opinion, while it resembled neither pagoda nor courtyard mansion, the rough worked stone and high peaked towers still gave it a majestic, if somewhat barbaric, feel.

Walking up the main wide path Xing Lei met no one in his ascent, it would seem that most of the defenders were either in the noble quarter already, or were drafted to defend the outer walls from Silvertree's forces. From this height, he could well see over the houses to the land beyond the distant walls, the forces that shone like a sea of molten gold were arrayed all around the north western hills, the sky itself dimmed slightly as a rain of arrows came hurtling down out of the blue to clatter noisily against roof tile, stone wall or raised shield. Here and there along the far wall the muffled shout of a pierced defender was sounded but these calls were few, it seemed to Xing Lei the defenders had well prepared for elven archer assaults.

Shaking his head he casually walked up to the shut portcullis at the main keeps entrance, here half a dozen men in shining armor stood ready to defend their lords front gate. While a few called jeers his way the majority sneered and ignored the presence of a solitary, unarmed, kobold. Chuckling to himself Xing Lei braced himself and raised both arms, willing a pair of hand crossbows from within his ring, his arms sunk a bit from their weight but he corrected soon enough and pulled the triggers.

Trusting in the drow weapons, the crossbows once again vanished into his ring as he charged the gate, the pair closest had stumbled back against their fellows. The left screaming in agony, the quarrel having lodged in his eye, the right slightly more fortunate, having moved slightly only had the quarrel shot at him scrape the bone of his cheek before flying wide. The more steady knight drew his sword and made to stab between the gate bars when the poison on those wicked barbs took hold.

The one in agony slumped into peaceful unconsciousness propped up by his fellows, the other staggered missing his vicious jab as Xing Lei scrambled up the bars, finding hand holds where no human could. The other knights yelled, a pair preparing a set of long bows to knock this suicidal beastling off their gate. Xing Lei simply skipped from bar to bar, his clawed hands and feet digging into the metal to propel him in different directions even as the arrows were notched and tried to find a bead on him. Yet he kept moving, climbing higher on the gate before clawing his way over the stone top.

The knights below rushed for the walkways, hoping to cut the kobold off on either side yet were surprised to find Xing Lei had not crawled in the window. Instead he had just continued his climb, digging his claws into the tiles to ascend to the sloped roof. Glancing about, he nimbly rushed along the peak before leaping out towards one of the stone towers, the knights gawking in disbelief as he clawed his way up to one of thos small windows and slithered inside. Behind him, Xing Lei could hear the cursing of the guards as a general alert was yelled, but now inside he began to stealthily make his way through the tight passage of the circular structure.

Thankfully this tower seemed more for servant use and he encountered no guards to speak of, though the stomp of metal shod feet echo'd closer and closer. The guards were sweeping from the base up, which suited Lei just fine as he took to the exterior again, finding hand and foot holds with his claws that no human could. Glancing at one point over his shoulder, he watched the distant gate of the city fall, a sea of silver and gold armored figures flooding in the main street from the region beyond. He'd have to hurry, else the elven army would likely siege the castle and his thoughts of beating old Ironhand a bit would go up in smoke.

Still, some things were going his way, between climbing the rough stone and slipping through windows Xing Lei was able to avoid much of the castle defenders, near as he could guess though from the layout of the structure the area which held the king was likely in the main buildings heart, with its treasure chamber below or nearby, eventually he'd have to get his hands dirty. Glancing around Lei looked for the best spot to make his incursion, the outer walls and towers however seemed largely separate from the main keep, with training fields and gardens separating the two from each other.

Choosing a nearby lush garden, Xing Lei dropped from the wall into the concealment of the trees, quickly darting across the branches keeping alert for sentries. Oddly enough, he could sense none of the knights or guards in this area which struck him as strange. Surely even that old man or his underlings at least, would recognize this area as a potential entry point for intruders. Curious, he began deviating from his original course, swiftly moving about the thick tree coverage in search of whatever Ironhand needed to hide from everyone.

After a few minutes of rushing about, Xing Lei found what could have potential. Dropping from his latest perch he walked towards a marble building, two kingly statues framed its entrance, one holding a sword, the other a branch. Puzzled Xing Lei crept inwards, if he guessed right this was a tomb to the forefathers of old man Ironhand, but still, there was no solid reason to leave the area unguarded. Even proper tombs in his old life at least had custodians to maintain them daily, yet this was as silent as anything.

Pushing open the door Xing Lei was treated to an open hall, stone sarcophagi lined the side walls in ornate alcoves, a thick carpet stretched down the line before branching into a T junction. Looking to each spot, he could not really infer anything from the dates inscribed beneath dusty ornate pictures of the prior title holders. From what Xing Lei could tell at least, the country of Ironhand had existed for several centuries with each king entombed reigning from the throne for anywhere from ten to thirty years each.

Reaching the junction he sniffed, the smell of dust and incense was being tinged with a more powerful odor, glancing left then right Xing Lei followed the scent down the left corridor. Here several tombs were filled, but he could see several alcoves were empty, this was likely the more recent wing of the tomb, and yet the scent he now recognized as rotting meat, was getting stronger. Walking to the back wall he glanced into an alcove and grimaced, propped into a corner, dumped like a sack of garbage was a partial body, it looked like something had been eating it and had left the rest to rot away here.

What truly surprised Xing Lei was the face. While much of it was missing and the rest rotted and covered in maggots he could still see the tell tale thick mustache he had seen a few hours ago. If it was to be believed then this corpse, stinking deeply of decay, was Torvun Ironhand. Yet the smell indicated the king had been dead for a fairly long time, it was only the sealing of the tomb that had delayed its complete rotting away. Then who had directed the knights earlier? Frowning to himself he extended his hand, his alchemy flame bursting forth. Xing Lei felt the strength seeping from his body as he incinerated the remains.

Catching his breath he turned to leave, back the way he entered. The mystery of why there was no castle staff back here was pretty much solved, but that left a bigger question... Who currently sat on the throne? Rushing back through the woods, he no longer bothered trying to conceal himself. Who or whatever had replaced the king obviously forbade anyone from coming near here until the evidence rotted completely, he would find no opposition here, so it was more prudent now to just rush into the keep and confront the impostor. Still it bugged him, what was the end goal of all this? Selling the slaves to the drow, making the country into a xenophobic cess pit, putting on gladiatorial games for almost two if not longer years... None of it made sense. None of it seemed to tie together into a bigger plot to achieve anything. Wait. Could that be it?

Frowning Xing Lei bolted forward, he had to reach the 'king' before the elves, if his hunch was right they'd be walking into a trap. Bursting through a set of doors, startling a pair of trembling guards who looked no older than some fourteen or fifteen summers Xing Lei charged through the castle proper. Guards shouted. Maids screamed. The main keep was erupting in turmoil as Xing Lei charged through another set of double doors into what had to be the throne room. Looking to the end the startled king glanced up from where he spoke with General Gerald, the two looking shocked to see him, the knights lining the hall surged forward to put their armored bodies between the small intruder and their leaders.

As Xing Lei made ready to advance the noise from behind him increased, armored steps ran along the passage to the throne, the steps in the lead were far heavier than its companions, almost drowning out the lighter steps. Nearly over running him, the commander of the elven group brought up short, skidding to a halt to stare slack jawed at the kobold, then the troop of knights arrayed before the king. Smiling a toothy smile, Fleet Spear waved a metal clad arm and shouted in elvish, "For Silvertrees and Sweet Water!"

The group of elves behind her, decked in shining silver and gold armor raised their swords and flowed around their leader like an opened dam, surging forth to crash against the human knights as the tall Lizardfolk smiled down at her mate. Xing Lei chuckled and crossed his arms, "I get enslaved for a couple of years and you take over an elven kingdom, I'm really slipping."

Laughing and scooping him up they shared a rather wet kiss that made even her allies cringe a bit at their commanders boldness, "I told that elf that you didn't need an army. But now you have one my mate, that the Chief?"

Xing Lei smiled to himself wriggling out of Fleet Spears hands to turn and watch the king. Unlike General Gerald beside him who was practically ready to throw himself into the melee, the false king sat easily on the throne, a tricksters smile upon his lips gazing at Xing Lei with ill intent. His eyes reflecting an evil mirth that showed none of the old mans earlier cowardice, it seemed the time to show his cards had come.