Chapter 103: The List (23)
The battlefield in Vivien’s mind glowed with golden light, the ground scorched from the previous clashes.
She stood triumphant in her delusion, arms raised to the heavens, hair flowing in an imaginary wind that made her look ten times more dramatic than reality allowed.
Before her, her loyal beasts gathered: the Boar, its tusks cracked but gleaming; the Slime, bouncing proudly as if gravity were a mere suggestion; and her newest champion, the Walking Tree, roots stretching deep into the soil, bark thick with resilience.
Behind them, in the audience stands of her imagination, Phillip sat upright in a wheelchair, his entire body mummified in plaster, waving his one free finger like a flag of victory.
Vivien pressed her hand to her chest, voice swelling with emotion.
“You have all fought bravely. Together we’ve toppled the serpent of arrogance, fried the jellyfish of cruelty, and stood victorious against the forces of darkness.”
She turned to each one in turn, her eyes glistening.
“Boar, Slime, Tree- you are not mere beasts. You are my comrades, my companions, my friends. And with the power of love and friendship, we shall overcome even the last of the villain’s foul champions!”
The Walking Tree groaned like ancient timber in response, striding forward with solemn dignity.
Its leafy crown rustled with pride as it lumbered into the arena.
Vivien’s gaze snapped back to the opposite side, where Lucien stood.
But unlike before, he did not sneer, nor cackle, nor taunt.
He was silent.
His arms hung loose, his eyes distant, shadowed with some unfathomable weight.
Vivien blinked.
“What’s this? Do you admit defeat already?”
She called across the battlefield, her voice mocking, triumphant.
“Are you such a coward that you cannot even summon your last beast?”
For a long heartbeat, Lucien did not move.
Then, slowly, his gaze lifted, his eyes locking with hers.
And even in her own hallucination, the intensity of that look sent a chill racing down her spine.
It was as though he had stepped out of her fantasy and was now staring into her soul.
When he spoke, his voice was grave, resonant, the kind that silenced all sound around it.
“What stands before you and your pets… is no beast.”
The ground trembled. Dust rose from the horizon.
Lucien raised a hand, pausing deliberately, letting the silence swell into something oppressive.
Then he declared:
“…What comes is my champion.”
From beyond the horizon, something massive leapt, crashing into the battlefield with earth-splitting force.
The ground cratered, shockwaves rippling outward, shaking even Vivien’s imagined Phillip in his wheelchair who still managed to cheer through a muffled “You can do it, Vivien!”.
When the dust finally cleared, the figure stood revealed.
A knight, tall and imposing, clad head-to-toe in silver armor that gleamed with otherworldly light.
Its faceless visor reflected nothing, its entire identity swallowed in anonymity.
In its hands rested a tower shield larger than the Boar, engraved with glowing runes pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
It did not roar.
It did not posture.
It simply crouched low, shield digging into the dirt, an immovable wall between Lucien and Vivien’s tree.
The Walking Tree swayed, roots digging deep, bark bristling for the clash.
It stood bravely, leaves rustling in defiance.
Yet Vivien’s chest tightened.
A pit yawned in her belly, gnawing at her confidence.
For this knight was not like the serpent, nor the jellyfish.
This one radiated inevitability.
And Vivien, even in her grand delusion, knew, this fight would not be so easily won.
***
The arena stood in breathless silence, every eye locked upon the standoff: Vivien’s stalwart Walking Tree and Lucien’s silver knight.
The tree braced, roots digging furrows into the dirt, bark creaking as it prepared to weather the storm.
Across from it, the knight crouched behind its runed tower shield, an immovable bastion of inevitability.
Vivien clenched her fists, biting her lip.
“Please… please, my noble Tree, you must endure. You must…”
The moment stretched.
And then, groaning, dragging themselves across the broken ground, two other figures stumbled into the arena.
Vivien’s eyes went wide.
“No! No, you mustn’t!”
The Boar, limping pitifully, each step punctuated by a pained squeal, planted itself beside the Tree.
Its tusks were cracked, its legs trembling, but still it lowered its head defiantly.
Behind it, the Slime, half the size it once was, its quivering mass shrunken to a wobbling puddle, bounced weakly after the Boar until it plopped down at its side.
Vivien’s throat caught.
“You’re too injured! You’ve given enough! Stay back! Please- don’t do this!”
But her beasts would not be swayed.
The Slime wobbled in her direction, giving a reassuring bloop, as if to say It’s okay, ‘Vivien. We’re with you to the very end.’
The Boar grunted low, eyes blazing with stubborn loyalty.
And the Tree groaned, branches creaking as though acknowledging her plea but refusing to yield.
They stood together in a crooked line: a broken boar, a quivering slime, and a lumbering tree.
An army of misfits facing a shining titan.
Vivien’s vision blurred with tears.
“No… not like this…!”
Thunder cracked.
Lightning split the skies, illuminating the battlefield in blinding white.
Vivien, in her delusion, ran forward, skirts billowing as if some invisible wind machine had been planted beneath her.
“NOOOOOOOO!”
She screamed, reaching desperately toward her beasts.
The lightning struck.
The ground erupted in a blinding explosion, engulfing both her faithful beasts and Lucien’s knight in searing light.
Vivien was hurled backward, her body tumbling in a dramatic slow-motion spin, before she crashed into the ground.
Dust filled the air.
The audience of her fantasy gasped in unison.
When her eyes fluttered open, she saw them, her beloved beasts.
The Boar, collapsed on its side, chest rising faintly.
The Slime, flattened into a shallow puddle.
The Walking Tree, its branches broken, its mighty trunk toppled.
All three lay fallen.
Vivien crawled to them on hands and knees, her tears flowing freely.
“No… no, please! You fought so bravely! How could one single knight take the blow that even all of you together could not withstand?!”
A laugh echoed through the ruins.
Deep, cruel, dripping with malice.
Lucien.
“Look closely, Vivien,” his voice boomed.
“That knight was never alone.”
Her head snapped up. She froze.
Behind the knight, two ghostly figures shimmered into being.
The translucent forms of the Winged Serpent and the Jellyfish hovered at its side, their essence coiling and pulsing with eerie light.
Their presence radiated terrible power, flowing directly into the knight’s armored frame.
Vivien’s heart shattered.
“No… no, it can’t be…!”
Lucien’s laughter swelled, filling the arena.
“Yes! I sacrificed them! I fed their life force into my final champion! Such is the path of true power! Such is the fate of love and friendship, devoured to strengthen the strong!”
Vivien clutched her chest, her whole body trembling.
“How vile! How detestable! To betray your own companions, to steal their light only to crush mine! You… you monster!”
She threw her arms wide, collapsing theatrically over the bodies of her beasts.
“Justice! Justice, strike this villain down!”
But the heavens were silent.
Her despair deepened as she turned, seeking comfort, seeking Phillip.
Surely her beloved Phillip would remind her that she had not lost everything.
Surely he would be there, cheering her name.
But instead.
She saw him being rolled away.
His wheelchair squeaked along the cobblestones, pushed by a radiant young girl with hair flowing like spun gold.
Phillip’s plaster-bound form turned toward Vivien one last time, his one free finger pointing at her as he spoke, voice muffled through layers of bandage.
“You let me down, Vivien. I cannot marry a loser. This, this is my new fiancée. She understands victory.”
Vivien’s jaw dropped.
“P-Phillip? No! Don’t leave me!”
But the other girl giggled sweetly, patting Phillip’s shoulder as she pushed him away, her eyes glittering with triumph.
Vivien staggered after them, crawling on the ground, arms outstretched.
“Phillip! Don’t go! I only lost because of Lucien’s vile tricks! I fought with love and friendship! Please, don’t abandon me!”
But Phillip only shook his plastered head, the words echoing like a hammer-blow:
“You lost, Vivien. And so, you lose me, too.”
And then he was gone, wheeled off into the distance.
Vivien fell to her knees in the rubble, tilting her head back toward the darkened skies.
Her tears streamed down her cheeks as she let out a wail so loud, so piercing, it shook the very foundations of her fantasy.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
The heavens rumbled with melodramatic thunder, lightning splitting across the void to frame her silhouette in pitiful tragedy.
Around her, her beasts lay unconscious, her love had abandoned her, and Lucien’s maniacal laughter still echoed.
To Vivien’s delusional mind, this was no mere duel.
This was the cruel betrayal of love itself.
