The Four-Armed Man and The Little Queen

Nation of Fiore, Kingdom Uva, Mão Invisível. Year 3397, Gemini(3) 23, 1016 ATW.

3 weeks after the Massacre of Red Town.

The tavern, Mounty Boat, at the end of the street was crowded, mostly by the soldiers and courageous warriors of Uva.

A cute and petite ginger girl passed by a table, serving a man with a thick bear. He slapped her across the buttcheeks and winked at her, she gave him a small glance before running over to the next table.

"Hey, lads. Did ya hear 'bout what the general did?" a large man with a thick neck spoke, in what he thought to be a whisper, needless to say that he was failing.

"Um? What?"

"General Renavan absolutely slaughtered fifty men. By himself."

The whole table gasped, with shock and awe. Some really didn't believe it, but they truly could imagine that man doing something like that.

"He's a fucking badass...!"

"Holy mother of god! Fifty?! Is the general a beast?!"

"Dude, that's crazy!"

"The general just set a new record!"

In the middle of the round of applause and compliments, one statement rang louder: "Then why hasn't he won the war already?"

An almost deafening silence stroke over the tavern.

"We-well, but that little... I mean, our enemies are monsters too." Someone said.

"Yeah, did you see what happened in Avalor? She took down the entire military force in that town in less than a week."

"The girl is a goddess of war. We're lucky to still be alive."

"Why don't we surrender at once, after all? What is the Count thinking?"

A tall man with a beard shouted: "Don't fuck around! We can't surrender yet!"

The blabbering kept going on and on.

Until a bloody man, a portion of his shoulder missing, entered the tavern with staggering movements. "H-hey...!"

Everyone looked over at him, a few murmurs here and there.

"S-she... Is... Here... The... Blarrgh—"

His words were stopped as the back of his head was struck by an arrow, the wooden object piercing right through his mouth and sticking out as if to mock them.

"Ahhh!!!"

"We're under attack!!"

"Mão Invisível is under attack!" "They are here!!" "Queen Leta the Third is here!!"

The soldiers took their swords, not many of them were already wearing armors, and the civilians tried to get out of the way; ducking under tables or running over the counter to hide.

About thirty men inside were soldiers, and around fifteen were civilians or workers at that tavern.

They tried to fight back, but common arrows quickly disposed of any opposition. The civilians that tried to fight back were also killed mercilessly.

With no actual resistance, Mounty Boat was quickly overrun by nothing more than a dozen men in camo uniforms.

Those green pleated camouflaged uniforms were used by the Rosé Army since the Battle in Avalor, Taurus 12, 1014 ATW.

Not as durable as a Knight's armor, but more practical and light. It also helped to hide around bushes and forests, perfect for surprise attacks; the main tactic used by the Rosé Army.

A fourteen-year-old girl, wearing a gray camo uniform, with a metallic tube clipped to the belt of her pants stepped into the tavern.

She shot a glance at a ginger waitress—probably around her age—her cold body lifeless on the floor, a wooden arrow attached to her back, a small, round pool of blood already formed at the white fabric of her uniform.

Underneath her was a bearded man, also bleeding.

"Caught in the crossfire, I suppose. Or," Queen Leta the Third moved swiftly, almost as fast as the wind, her hand taking the metallic tube from her belt.

A red plasma ignited from the cavity of the weapon.

"Fu..." the bearded man underneath the girl tried to shout and get the waitress off him so he could run, but his internal organs were already falling off his beer belly. "...ck"

The teenager clipped the lightsaber back to her belt and commanded her men to clean the tavern and help the injured civilians.

Queen Leta went out of the tavern and, just like inside, the streets were filled with the corpses of Uva's warriors.

Sixty, maybe seventy of them.

Not even one was left alive.

That hard was the strike of the little queen.

For her people, she refused to step back.

For her enemies, she would show no mercy until the very end.

The fourteen years old queen looked up, her cold and stoic gaze fitting the brick red roof of a average sized house.

"How cowardly can your men be, General?" she asked, her childish, yet powerful voice sending shivers even down her own soldiers spines.

The six foot one man jumped down, right in front of Leta, but her confidence didn't wave for even an instant.

"They hide behind the very people they swear to protect," she glanced at the tavern. "Such foolish acts are pathetic."

The 'Four-Armed Man' ignored her completely.

"I'm going to rape and kill you." he warned, as he stared down her body; a blue lightsaber igniting in his left hand.

And so: "You will try," a red plasma ignites.

With a long, telegraphed swing of his left arm, General Renavan aimed the blue plasma blade at the girl's leg.

If the superheated blue plasma touched her, even for a millisecond, the battle would be lost.

The first attack was crucial, but Renavan had already finished planning the second and third as well.

Once the girl's leg was amputated, he would pierce her saber-wielding right arm and windpipe slightly—just enough so that she could never utter a peep again.

*WOOM* the plasma blade cried.

But unexpectedly, his blade was blocked!

"...?" Renavan took a step back, surprised.

"What's wrong, General?" asked the pink haired girl.

With just a simple flick of the wrist, the blue blade was reflected back. Not much strength, just timing and technique.

Renavan cracked a small, derailed smile.

"Impressive, Queen. Your mastery in dueling is quite the unexpected sight. Yet, I'll still love to defile you."

And the man ignited a second lightsaber, a green one, in his right hand.

Leta the Third kept hers steady, holding the metallic handle with both hands.

They were about seven meters apart. Their plasma blades would come striking at any moment.

From a corner, some Uva knights came in with their swords and shields. Just to be intercepted by Rosé's archers.

Neither duelists took their eyes off one another.

No one could interfere.

They would be killed mercilessly if they dared.

This is a duel.

The highest honor men and women with a lightsaber could ever hope to receive.

"Nngh!" "Haaah!!"

And with a sudden burst of speed, the pair swung at each other.

With a swift movement of her hands, Astarte Igvar blocked the green and blue plasma, each strike pointing at her limbs.

Six, seven movements later, she noticed how hard it actually was to face someone who wielded two blades.

Unlike a long sword, the lightsaber barely had any weight—even a child could use it efficiently if they met the requirements—which meant that just a flick of the wrist could deal fatal damage.

Physical power was only necessary to break an opponent's guard.

Leta was significantly faster, but two plasma blades made the field even.

She couldn't break Renavan's blocks because he was much stronger than her. There was no way for a fourteen-year-old to overpower a grown man.

(I have to outsmart him.)

If Leta could predict his next few strikes and still keep sight of both his hands, she'd be able to counterattack a opening using her superior speed.

Once she deflected one of his swings, General Renavan would have to regain his balance in order to attack with his other saber.

That was the opening Leta the Third would use to finish her foe.

(Or that is what this girl is thinking.) The general recoiled.

He was still planning to attack just the way she expected him to.

"Hmm!"

Renavan swung his right hand horizontally, at arm's height, just to be met by Leta's red blade.

Since he expected that attack to be blocked, he didn't overcommit, and so didn't lose his balance.

Instead, the general jumped over the girl's head in a swift display of his physical ability.

Now from a superior, unexpected position in the air, General Renavan would make the girl meet her end with a single strike to the side of her unprotected head.

But...

*WUUUUM!*

He fell in the dirty paved street of Mão Invisível.

Even though he moved faster than many could react, that little girl, that queen, sliced off both of his arms and legs in a single circular motion of her plasma weapon. All while he was still horizontally in the air.

"Y-you... how—?" he barely could talk.

The once invincible general couldn't even raise his limbless torso to meet his foe's gaze.

His once unparalleled strength was completely gone. He had nothing.

The charred, amputee members didn't even hurt.

Confused, scared and yet amused, his curiosity overwhelmed the pain.

Even though he wanted to know, his consciousness was already fading. There was nothing but cold and darkness.

"You're truly an amazing man, General Renavan. Unfortunately," she kneeled besides his body, caressing his hair softly with her slender, silk hand, just like a caring wife. "I must not lose yet. My kingdom, no... my family needs an capable queen. That's why I can't lose. Not yet."

His eyes weren't even closed, but not fully open too. With his half open eyes, the Four-Armed Man saw as that queen got closer to his face.

Leta the Third was that man's only light right at this moment.

And without any other word...

She planted a loving, soft kiss on the man's cold lips.

Sure that she had heard a weakly whispered "Thanks", the queen nodded slightly and carefully laid the man's head on the cold gray pavement.

Her men, about thirty of them, walked ahead to circle their queen.

A few others were scouting the area to get rid of the remaining men of Uva.

That was not of her concern.

Queen Leta the Third did her best to contain her excitement—she had to, at least for now—and kept the cruel, inhumanely cold expression of a leader.

"Mão Invisível was conquered. Uva's mighty general was defeated. My companions...! Tonight, we feast!!"

And a wave of happy, satisfied howls washed over the small girl.