The emperor of Camelot - part three

However, there was an entry point into the ring that was before the Camelot soldiers. The soldiers didn't walk into the ring. They halted two metres from the entry point to jeer and maliciously cackle at their cornered enemies.

Emperor Gerald, in his human form, landed on the ground inside the ring, a bit close to the entry point, in a half-kneel like a superhero. The rays from the fire illuminated his armor, which radiated blinding golden lights. He stood up and walked towards the crowd of Barbax soldiers, and the blinding sensation ceased.

There was a good distance between him and his enemies. His enemies watched as he approached. They saw his hateful glare at them, and his intentions were not hidden; he wanted to slay them all himself. These things angered some of the enemies, and they charged at him. Unfortunately, he wasn't an ordinary 'deluded' man. His dragon providence granted him enhanced physicality. One wouldn't be wrong in addressing him as a superhuman.

He swiftly and effortlessly dodged dozens of swings directed at him. He retaliated with a powerful hook, uppercut, or jab to every assailant. His attacks were all fatal, leaving his victims dead on the ground. After a couple of minutes, the Barbax soldiers came faster than he could handle. He leaped backwards. When he regained his footing on the ground, he spread his arms sideways, which caused a huge geyser of flames to manifest from thin air. The flames travelled towards the enemies before him, and they incinerated them to dry bones.

The fiery feat flushed blood off the emperor's face and left him gasping for air. There were still about a thousand survivors in the ring. He purposely left them alive. He squatted with his face down; he was still recovering from the toll incurred by his latest magical feat. He didn't seem to care that the enemy would cease the opportunity to attack him in this vulnerable position. Meanwhile, the surviving Barbax soldiers were fidgeting at the mere sight of the emperor. Most of them had peed their pants or whatever substitute they wore.

"I know that all of you will be cursing your luck," Emperor Gerald said to his enemies suddenly, still in his previous position. "The truth is that your bad luck came from a foolish man."

He straightened up and turned to the survivors. The survivors were between him and his soldiers.

"And many have died because of foolishness," he continued. "Unfortunately, too many of you are still alive."

The survivors knew what Emperor Gerald's last sentence entailed. They cuddled each other and retreated backwards. But the scorching heat and jeering laughter from the Camelot soldiers behind them forced them to halt.

Emperor Gerald said to the Barbax men, "If you want to continue living, you must earn it. My men and I have given you the right. The rest are in your hands."

Most of the enemy soldiers were confused. Only a few were smart enough to silently murder their comrades, unnoticed. It took the expression of amusement at the literal meaning of the emperor's words by the Camelot soldiers for the dumb Barbax soldiers to realise that an internal purge was ongoing.

The purge was filled with desperation; alliances were instinctively formed; betrayal happened within the alliance; the victims ranged from one to more; some people went on an incredible solo run but were unfortunately sent to their graves.

The Camelot soldiers enjoyed the show with such glee. It got some of them openly wishing that there was wine to accompany the entertainment. As for their emperor, he watched the violence with a frigid face. He contemplated whether his previous actions and those yet to come were extreme or not, as well as whether they were necessary or not. He wanted actions that would send a stern message to the Barbax king; he wanted the foolish king to know that he was miles ahead of him.

After considering that there were other territories that had an interest in conquering Camelot, he assured himself that his actions were necessary. He planned to have the survivors go back to Barbax and deliver a testimony of what they witnessed today. From the Barbax palace, word will spread around the continent about the red dragon of Camelot. People on the continent would now know that the red dragon was not a myth but reality. His only fear with this plan was that the story would draw the attention of his territory to territory-conquering mages. He dreaded confronting formidable magic-powered creatures.

As he thought about the future, the purge had reduced the number of Barbax soldiers to less than 120. An orc soldier who lay on her back, resisting with her two hands the driven knife of another soldier who was human, looked into the eyes of the golden-armored man. Her eyes begged him for help to escape death.

"Why are you looking at me?" the emperor asked the pleading lady. "Fight for your damned life."

The Camelot soldiers cheered at their emperor's passionless remark. Unfortunately, the lady didn't last more than 3 seconds before she died from being stabbed in the throat.

Emperor Gerald said frigidly, "Too bad she died before the 10-second countdown."

He commanded the Barbax soldiers to "Stop the fight!"

The brawling soldiers instantly stopped the violence and faced the emperor, awaiting further orders. A few more than a couple of them couldn't hang on, and they fell dead due to low blood levels. The Camelot soldiers guffawed at the comical death of their unfortunate enemies. The survivors were all covered in blood, their own or that of their victims. Nevertheless, they also suffered cuts. The number of survivors was halved to 53.

"I don't want to know how you will do it, and I promise you that you will surely not be pleased with my men teaching you how to make stretchers," Emperor Gerald said to the Barbax men. "I just want you to know that you all will stretcher the intact corpses of your comrades back to your country."

Despite having a downcast face, the emperor managed to make the survivors' faces contort more in anguish.

After three hours of frustration and anguish, the Barbax soldiers managed to construct five mega-cart stretchers and load the hundreds of corpses onto them. The carts didn't sport the traditional bucket design. Instead, it was constructed into a flat surface design. Tough, thick sticks were successfully mailed together to form a cart after many trials and failures, which were accompanied by jeers from the Camelot soldiers and admonishing glares from the emperor.