Nay To Tyranny!
Mordred chugged down... she'd actually forgotten how many flagons she'd downed, and watched through blurry eyes as her opponent fell back, foaming at the mouth. She looked at the crowd around them before raising her flagon with a massive grin, "HAHAHAHA! WHO'S NEXT?!"
"SPARTANS! WHAT DO WE DO WHEN FACED WITH IMPOSSIBLE ODDS?! DO WE SURRENDER?!"
"""NAY!!!"""
"SO DRINK, MEN! DRINK LIKE YOU DINE WITH ARES!!"
"""AOUHHHHH!!!"""
Flagons were raised to the sky and cheers erupted around her grown men drank down all the ale available to them.
It was totally not weird that almost all of them were butt naked except for red cloaks and kilts or underwear, whatever the hell it was called.
Of course this just made her chug down hers with even more vigour than before.
Mordred had run into them during a celebration before war the day before, on her quest for a bear of her own to match her Master, and she'd gotten into a brawl with one.
After she beat his ass, one sidedly of course, they invited her to party with them and she never was one to say no to a night on the town... though it was kinda strange that it was well into the night when they started and the competition was still going on now that the Sun was up.
... More power to them for their resilience she supposed.
ANYWAY!
"Y'all drink like lishle gils! COME OHHN! I can drinsh for da whole weesh!" Mordred shouted out, red faced, "Damn! Can't belieb y'all are loshing to a chishck!"
Yeah, being a dude was cool and all but, it was way cooler to beat the shit out of grown ass dudes as a chick... Besides, King Arthur didn't have no sword neither!
"On God, spit yo shit my girl."
Wait... That didn't sound like the vocabulary these blockheads used...
In fact, it sounded familiar as shit.
...Mordred whipped around to spot a head of pale hair and a pair of violet eyes she was pretty sure she'd recall after she died, "Oh sup, Mashta..."
She tossed aside her drink and wobbled over to Nicholas, almost falling over multiple times. The Knight of Betrayal then proceeded to grab his face with both hands and... pinch it before trying to pull on his cheeks.
"You're nosh my hallucinathon?"
"Not sure man, everything could be a hallucination if you listen to the right or... I guess, wrong people?" Nicholas chortled, ignoring her action, and grabbing a roasting chicken wing off a table and lopping it at a fox-eared woman she hadn't seen before, "Cool peeps you got here?"
Mordred wow'd as the woman leapt up and grabbed it in her mouth, "What happenshed to the ber?"
"Gave it to Nero in exchange for a stall which we used to give Rome an addiction, good times."
"Neash!" Mordred gave him what she hoped was a thumbs up and a happy smile.
Of course it did come out looking like a retarded smile with drool coming out and all due to her being totally shitfaced.
Mordred's world spun and she came face to face with a serious Martha who had grabbed her by the shoulders, "You're alright? They didn't do anything to you right? And who gave you permission to go missing for days with these... these apes!"
"They're cool thoh!"
"Damn. Apes." Nicholas raised his brow, chortling as he stared down a 'random partygoer', "Nice muscles dude."
His question wasn't answered by the one he asked, instead-
"Yours are amazing too, young man! Where do you hail from?! It must be a land of mighty warriors!"
...It was a man who, both in presence and physical size, stood heads and shoulders above the rest. With neatly cut, short, dark red hair and bulging, chiselled muscles laid bare to the world because he too was butt naked save for an underwear.
Now, do remember that these were, naked, muscly men, partying with copious amounts of alcohol in the middle of what was essentially a desert.
"You could say that..." Nicholas drawled off, looking to the side...
"Anyway..."
He changed the topic completely.
"What y'all doing with my ki-... Mordred?"
"Hm, that one came upon us as we prepared ourselves for a war. I thought I should let my men have a bit of fun before..." The man grit his teeth, eyes burning in annoyance, "Nevermind. If you are a friend of hers, we welcome you!"
Nicholas nodded slowly before holding out his hand, "Hey, no gym bro can be a bad dude. Nicholas Martel, Chaldea Grunt."
"Hm!" The man inspected his hand before taking it and giving it a firm shake, "Leonidas I! King of Sparta!"
Even Nicholas' eyes widened a fraction at the name before he grabbed the man's hand with both of his own, "...Can I get an autograph?"
There was no good boy out there that hadn't watched 300 and didn't think Leonidas was manly as FUCK. The guy faced an army over a hundred thousand strong with fucking 300 men and inspired a whole nation to war.
"I do not know what that is but it shall be done. I see few willing to shake my hand."
Nicholas nodded his head like a fanboy, checking his 'pocketless' t-shirt for a page before moving to his pants and then his manny pack.
"...I wish Mash was here."
She had that notepad of hers she always carried around...
"How far is Rome from here?"
Maybe he could run to and back with a page and a pen?
"...I do not know. The fool that summoned me and my men did not deem it necessary to tell me of my enemy's capital." Leonidas answered his question plainly, sizing him up with indiscernible intentions, "I am only to intercept enemy forces and recapture Gaul."
Nicholas paused, "Gaul?"
He looked over to Martha scolding a whimpering Mordred on her knees, "Oi Martha! Didn't we just capture Gaul?"
"I believe that was the name of the region we took back, yes."
"Damn." Nicholas looked hesitant for perhaps the first time ever, looking around for exc- wait no, he didn't need excuses. He could just clock Nero for fighting Leonidas... but wait... Olga would get mad at him for that and it'd deprive him of the chance to bury one of the 72 Demon Faggots.
Strangely enough, Leonidas looked equally as disappointed as him, "Then we are to be enemies? A true shame."
"Wait, what if we have a wrestling match and you join us if I win?"
From what he remembered, Spartans had a thing for wrestling.
The drunken cheers and festivities ceased instantaneously, as if they had never occurred, and all heads turned to the men looking at each other.
"Did he just challenge the King?"
"I think he just did?"
"I don't know what this means but I want to say it anyway cause it sounded nice! DAMN!"
""DAMN!!""
Leonidas sighed and facepalmed, "Meatheads."
"Nonetheless!" The King of Sparta uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists with a grin on his face, "Very well! I will accept that deal! To hell with that mage and his tyranny! SINCE WHEN DID SPARTA YIELD?!"
Fortunately for Nicholas, Leonidas was just as much of a believer in beating the shit out of problems as he was.
-
"...Wha?"
Leonidas stared at the cloudless blue sky and contemplated the decisions that led up to this point in his life, a hand over his mouth.
He'd wrestled with the young man that challenged to a fight in admiration for his bravery in challenging a king of Sparta to combat while surrounded by his men... He even meant to let him off with a lesson and give him a few tips later.
All those thoughts went out the window when he collided into a wall in his attempt at tackling the youngster... Nicholas had then proceeded to hold his fists together and slam them into the King's back, flooring him.
He was even gracious enough to lift him by one of his feet and slam him onto his back so he didn't have to lie with his face in the dirt...
Hell... he couldn't even be mad.
It was a one on one and the boy no... man, had used purely physical strength to overpower him... A Proud Spartan.
So, the King laughed.
The musclehe- EHEM EHEM... completely serious and brave King laughed his heart out.
And when he settled down,
"Very well Nicholas Martel! I shall be your servant from this day on!"
Leonidas I of Sparta smiled wider when he sat up to see Nicholas ruffling the hair of Mordred as she passed out hugging him.
See now this, was the kind of Master he would be proud to serve.
Not a conniving mage that put the populace in danger and tried to destroy innocent lives.
-
Hope you enjoyed the chapter.