Free The Manticore Ascension: A Short Story in the Arena Mode Universe by Blake Northcott Page A

like, ten seconds ago?”
    The chain dangled lifeless from my neck.
    The House Lehmann pendant was gone.
    “You,” he groaned, “put it ...”
    “Inside your head.” As I said the words Taktarov toppled, cracking a chunk of marble when his skull hit the floor.
    It was the old ‘phase an object into an indestructible superhuman’s head and pull your hand out before it gets lopped off’ trick. Works every time.
    The room fell silent. No one even breathed. His soldiers gazed at their fallen leader with amazement and then, in unison, dropped to a knee.
    And they all stared directly at me.
    Holy fudge.

Chapter Ten
    A light snowfall dusted us, made almost surreal by the shaft of moonlight pouring in through the hole in the ceiling.
    The horde of kneeling red soldiers stared up at me as if in anticipation. What were they waiting for: orders? A rousing victory speech? Permission to leave?
    Drake and Dawson stood beside me, seemingly as perplexed as I was.
    “What now?” Dawson whispered, scratching at his mop of blonde hair.
    It was a good question, and I had no idea how to answer. I ripped a small swath from my shirt, using it to bandage the flesh that dangled from my thumb. I used my teeth to anchor one side of the tourniquet and yanked the fabric, tightening it until the bleeding stopped.
    King Lehmann dusted himself off and marched towards me, adjusting his bathrobe on the way. It was difficult to appear regal in fuzzy bath wear and slippers, but somehow he managed to pull it off. At least for the most part. “Stand,” he shouted, turning towards the soldiers. “You are now under my command.”
    They remained still.
    He scowled and turned towards his sons. “Drake, Dawson, take Taktarov’s body down to the laboratory and tell the scientists to begin extraction. I want every drop of blood squeezed out of this superhuman and harvested for research.”
    “What?” I shouted, throwing my hands apart. “Are you kidding me? This crap is what started the war in the first place! Once the superhumans find out you’re desecrating their leader’s body and weaponizing his blood, it’ll start an all new uprising.”
    “Maybe,” he said proudly, motioning to the kneeling soldiers. “But if they do come, my new army will be ready for them.”
    Drake stepped forward, placing a gauntlet on his father’s shoulder. “No.”
    The King’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “What do you mean n –”
    “I mean no ,” Drake stated, more forcefully. “This has gone far enough. I don’t know if there will ever be lasting peace, but for now ...”
    “We have to at least try ,” Dawson added. He glanced at me, offering a small nod. “For all our sakes.”
    “Give Taktarov a burial at sea,” I said. “Toss the remaining blood in with him, and call a cease–fire.” I turned to the kneeling soldiers, and motioned for them to stand. It was like controlling a video game: one wave and they all rose, falling into perfect formation. “Your leader is dead,” I announced. “And you now have the option to join House Lehmann.”
    The King threw his arms up, mouth agape, but whatever he was about to say got lodged in his throat. By the redness in his face I could tell it wasn’t going to be complimentary.
    “ And ,” I added, “you also have the option to return home and do whatever the hell you want. No prisoners will be taken.”
    After a moment of confusion the red soldiers ambled around and made light conversation, seemingly stunned that they were free. I knew how they felt.
    “This is it for me, too.” I said, turning to Dawson. “Are you still in the mood for an adventure?”
    The knight’s eyes filled with fireworks. “Are you...are we taking one of the jets?”
    “If you are ,” Drake added, “I’m coming with you. I don’t trust either of you to return Kingdom property in one piece.”
    “Fair enough,” I laughed. “Pack your bags. We’re heading out.”
    Drake breezed past me but stopped, turning on his