35. One Last Job

They were already flying high across the mountains. Zulfain was too shocked to see this hasty behaviour of Marco. It was already dawn and the sun was rising. Marco asked Zulfain to slow down as he wanted to close his eyes and rest for a while. The destination was quite far from the Crypto Mounts. They were flying to Yarolin.

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Marco had picked a sword from the treasures; the Sword of Fear that belonged to Boerath Zimon, that was crafted in the Jahm Paths. They reached Yarolin at a busy morning. Yarolin was a tiny circular city built inside a fortress. The fortress was surprisingly built out of tons of seashells; it focussed more on art rather than safety. The city was crowded in the market and work places. “Over there!”, Marco shouted, pointed to a large mansion where a large number of people had congregated at the door. It was the king’s residence; not a palace, but a sort of a mansion. Wooden door was present instead of gates, on which was hung a plate of steel that read, Emperor of the north east: FARWOHM MIRALD.

The guards stumbled in fright when Zulfain landed in front of the doors of the entrance. The crowds screamed and gasped as the guards pulled out their swords and surrounded Marco. “Who are you?”, one of the men bellowed.

Marco replied in a clear and smooth manner, “I am Marco Hymes, the seventh Emperor of Legendia. I warn you guards... if you lay one finger on me, I will cut your throats in a wink. This sword has been used on the Dark Lord so choose your step wisely...”

The guards looked at the sword that Marco was grasping. Marco continued, “I know that you are unhappy with your king and you also know that soon you all will be crushed by either Legendia or Irasy... so just let me pass and I will bring good news for you.”

They hesitated for a moment, but then lowered their swords knowing that this man is the king of an empire that defeated the Dark Lord. Marco strode in through the doors. Men working in the hall froze as they saw this young man striding across the hall towards the far left door.

“Sire!” Can I help you?”, a servant came trotting towards Marco.

“Where is Farwohm?”, Marco roared, his voice hoarse and furious.

The servant nervously pointed upstairs.

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Marco slammed the door open. Farwohm, partially naked rested on a sofa with three young nude ladies entertaining him. All of them sprung up to their feet.

“OUT!”, Marco ordered to the ladies. They jolted out of the room.

Farwohm screamed in anger, “How the hell did you enter and who do you think you are?”, he analysed Marco from his attire; in a night robe, “You aren’t from here are you?” He was short and stout; had hair all over his chest and face and was painfully fair in complexion.

Marco tapped the blade of his sword against the walls as he approached Farwohm, “You must have heard of Marco Hymes, haven’t you?”

Farwohm’s eyes locked on Marco’s for a long frightening moment. His heart was definitely pounding hard. “You... look... please... why don’t we talk. I can explain.”

“I’m not here for a parley. I’m here to take your head down.”

Farwohm trembled, “GUARDS! GUARDS!”

Marco smirked, “They loathe you, Farwohm. They let me in themselves.”

“How dare you?”, Farwohm shouted and stomped towards Marco.

Marco lifted his leg and kicked him hard on the chest knocking his breath out for next few heart beats. Farwohm groaned as he lay horrified on his back on the ground. “No... please... forgive me!”

Marco stopped just in time before he delivered another blow. Marco was breathing hard; his nostrils flared.

“I beg you,”, Farwohm pleaded, “I made a mistake... Please forgive me. It was unintentional.”

“It was INTENTIONAL, YOU SWINE!”

“Yes... yes... I know.”, Farwohm whimpered, “But the dark lord’s no more. I’ve realised it now but was ashamed to plead for forgiveness.”

“So why now, ha?”, Marco bellowed, “Because your life is swinging by this sword, right?”

Farwohm bowed down in prostration touching his head on Marco’s footwear. “Please, I beg you...”

Marco pulled his feet away, “You violated Zimon’s trust and played with his feelings and mocked his emotions... Do you have any idea what it is to have Zimon’s trust?”

Farwohm’s face was covered in tears, “Ofcourse... I was misled... I took him for granted... the Dark Lord misled me...”

“Now whom would you serve, you coward? There’s no Dark Lord to mislead you now.”

“Anything you say... anyone... but please... don’t bring this out in open. I am to deliver a public speech right now. All are waiting outside.”

SMACK!! Marco slapped Farwohm’s cheek with a force that slit open the skin of it. “Does it look like I give a s**t about your public speech!”, Marco blurted, “Your throne’s over now Farwohm. You surrender right now and I spare your life.”

“Thank you... thank you...”, Farwohm sobbed, “I surrender myself to you.”

Marco pulled Farwohm by neck, “I originally came here with intent to slay you. But when someone regrets his mistake, I give him a chance. You’re lucky I’m standing here instead of some other king.” And he pushed Farwohm away and turned towards the door.

Farwohm steadied himself and hastily pulled out a short knife kept in the fruit basket and charged towards Marco. Marco ducked sideways just in the nick of time grasping Farwohm’s gripped hand with his left hand. Marco swayed his right hand clutching the sword and sliced it across Farwohm’s throat. Farwohm’s head flew up in the air across the floor tumbling over the large metal vase.

A pool of blood covered the floor in every direction. Marco walked over to the slain head and picked it up by its hair. Marco wore a straight face as he looked for the veranda. He could distinctly hear the enthusiastic voices of the crowd and slowly, slowly the sunlight grew bright as he stepped in the veranda. The crowd hushed down; some shrieked at the sight of Farwohm’s head in Marco’s grip. Farwohm’s General ordered the guards to capture the intruder. Ten guards stormed in the veranda.

“Stay...”, Marco roared pointing his sword to them, “Abide where you are or I swear your death is certain.”, his voice was firm and determined.

One of the guards stepped forward and said, “We heartily want you to take over. We were just following our duty.”

“Don’t worry about that.”, Marco said and turned to the crowd and shouted, “I am Marco Hymes, seventh Emperor of Legendia and I come to here to seek vengeance of the late Emperor William Zimon, a man of honour and sincerity, who was deceived by this coward!

“Cowards such as him are not supposed to lead any empire. He was a man who purposely chose the path of vice. He harmed my people and betrayed Lord Zimon. I shall not stand such evil anymore.”, Marco threw the head at the gates, rolling into the crowd. “This is what happens to losers like him. Say, men of the north east, do you accept me as a ruler of your empire?”

Nobody uttered a single word.

Marco continued, “As per the traditions, I am supposed to destroy all your cities before I seize the throne, but I do not harm innocents. I instead propose an agreement in peace... Your empire is falling. Your government sucks the taxes out of your pockets and yet I see no worthy development in this city. Legendia does not tax its people. We ask for only loyalty. I give you my word, whatever the situation be, I will take care of this country and will prosper your future. What say?”

An old man stepped up the stair leading to the porch, just beneath Marco. He said, “I am the advisor of Yarolin’s internal affairs. I must say that this is an approval from my side. However... there is something Joseph has to say.”

A young man of Marco’s age gazed up at Marco, “I am Farwohm’s son from his second wife. To be honest, I hated my father. Our empire requires a ruler like you to save it from falling. We are inflicted with famine and disease. Please save us, Lord Marco. I can take charge of this empire as your hand. I will carry out orders as per your command.”

Marco smiled at him, “Agreed.”

Marco acknowledged the crowd’s applause, “HAIL LORD MARCO!”

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Marco and Zulfain returned to the Great Castle by evening. When Marco entered the great hall, he found it crowded by a number of men, his advisors, his Commanders and messengers.

“Your highness!”, Yoyo exclaimed as he strode to Marco.

“The messenger has great news for you.”

“What is it?”

“Engeria and Gobbut has surrendered themselves... requesting you to take control of their cities.”

Marco was relieved by the news.

“My lord,”, Marvelo said, “They are short of army personnel for a battle as you predicted. Now you are the King of Engeria and Gobbut.”, he smiled.

“... and of the north eastern cities too!”, Marco added.

The counsellors screamed congratulations in amazement. Peter hugged and smudged Marco. Marco beamed heartily, “And Lord Dean... the best news of all... The treasure is in my custody now... at-last!”