BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan (44 page)

The dragon had switched tactics yet again, as
she began to try and bite him—nearly a dozen times did those
vicious teeth miss by mere inches, but only because he had
successfully evaded every time!

Once Baltor had made it to the top of the
dragon’s head, about two minutes later, he firmly braced one
arm—and both legs—around Dreeak’s horned ornaments, and with his
free hand, he drew his sword and stabbed it deep into the dragon’s
nearly-healed eye!

With a blackish-colored blood pouring out her
now-blinded eye, the beastly creature screamed out in pain as she
began flying directly toward the ground!

Still holding on for dear life, Baltor drew
out his other sword, and stabbed it to the hilt in Dreeak’s other
eye!

No longer was there a single scream from the
dragon … only four seconds later, they crashed hard into the
ground, crushing and/or killing about ninety-five dark gnomes, and
wounding another thirty! For now, anyways, the dragon did not
move…

Even though Baltor had been thrown clear upon
impacting the ground, he still managed to roll back onto his feet
after landing and with swords ready to strike!

Instantly all the black clouds that covered
the entire field dissipated, and everyone could see; there were
eight thousand, nine hundred fifty-six cavalry, and a hundred
thirty giants, yet still nearly six hundred fifty thousand dark
gnomes—corpses were littering the ground absolutely everywhere!

Despite the fact that the gnomes still had
the astronomical odds, they realized not only that they had lost
their magical powers yet Baltor had slain their leader and mother,
so they began to hastily retreat into different directions.

Before the last gnome retreated, another
forty thousand had been killed by Baltor’s forces who had never
stopped charging.

All the while the man himself remained
steadfastly busy as he ripped off every last piece of armor at the
dragon’s neck. And once done about six minutes after he had begun,
he removed a sword from the dragon’s eye, and began to slice the
head from the body, which took about a dozen swipes, as the neck
area was quite huge.

Once separated, Baltor jabbed the sword back
into the dragon’s eye, as he began to notice that the dragon’s head
was starting to regenerate!

It was only then that “strange and colorful
vapors” began to pour out the dragon’s mouth, which vapors
inevitably made their way up until they reached Baltor’s nostrils.
In less than a second’s time, he learned all the runic spells that
Dreeak had ever known, including teleportation and telepathy and
illusions.

With a ventriloquism-command that was heard
all the way across the battlefield, Baltor called his soldiers to
regroup, and they heard and obeyed.

Once gathered together near the center of the
battlefield, both the soldiers and the giants cheered, “Sultan!
Sultan! Sultan!”

Baltor, humble as always, simply nodded his
head in acknowledgement as he looked all around at his forces.

Once the cheering had subsided, a few minutes
later, he declared quite seriously, “The war is not yet over,
though soon it will be. The remaining gnomes must be annihilated,
so that they will not pose any further threats to our way of life—I
shall have the bulk of my forces destroy them upon their
arrival!”

After taking a deep breath, Baltor continued,
“As for our next mission, we will need to re-group all friendly
troops that have been slain, bury them here with honors, and burn
the bodies of the gnomes! Only once everything is cleaned up can we
then return back to our homes and families—for the Sharia
Empire!”

The troops hailed, “For the Sharia
Empire!”

After drawing a magical rune in the air, a
rune that magically glowed a bluish color in the air, Baltor
explained, “Just so you all know, as you can now clearly see, the
magic and the power that the dragon once held is now mine! I have
just created a magical barrier that will prevent the gnomes from
getting far…

“Last but not least, do not—under any
circumstances—remove the swords from the dragon’s eyes until we
have had its innards completely removed and stuffed as a trophy… Is
that understood, Forces?”

The troops responded, “Yes, my Sultan!”

Baltor concluded, “Two more things. First,
Major-General Ray, you here hereby promoted to
Commanding-General.”

“Thank you, sir!”

“Second, Ruling-General Stormea, please
ensure the troops set up base camp on the western side of the
battlefield.”

“Yes, my Sultan!” Stormea declared, before
looking and nodding his head once at Ray.

Ray turned his horse to face the scattered
troops on their horses or in their chariots, and then he called out
through his megaphone, “Form ranks.”

Once the troops had formed ranks, soon after,
Ray guided them to the western side of the battlefield in order to
begin the process of setting up camp and chow.

Ten seconds later, Darius and Traes launched
their hawks into the air, so that they could fly to the western
side of the field, and take care of the hawks need to feed.

Meanwhile, the giants stood idly by, as did
Cheo. Stormea sat upon his horse.

Baltor first looked at Yaush, and asked in
Valakanese, “Would you, my friend, do the honors of transforming
the dragon’s head into a stuffed trophy once we have returned to
Pavelus? I know you’re good at it.”

In Pavelian, Yaush emphatically responded,
“Of course, my friend!”

Looking around through all the giants, Baltor
asked in Valakanese, “Where is Salami?”

Yaush called out to the giants, “Anyone know
where Salami is?”

Most began looking around at each other
first, before looking around the battlefield, all for Salami. There
was only one giant amongst the entire bunch—eight feet tall, three
hundred pounds and without an ounce of fat—who continued to stare
at the ground while nodding his head affirmatively—this
forty-two-year-old giant’s name was Gnar.

Within moments, everyone’s eyes and attention
had focused on Gnar, yet still he had not spoken a word, nor looked
up from the ground…

Ten hold-your-breath seconds later, in which
everyone began getting increasingly nervous at the news they were
about to hear, Gnar finally looked up and around at everyone else,
before saying, “I do not know exactly where Salami’s body is at
this time, but I do know where his soul is…”

After taking a deep breath, he added, “He is
now in Elysium, drinking a hearty mug of ale in front of a large
bonfire in the middle of the Great Hall, along with a new battalion
of all our fallen comrades, including your Ruling-General Humonus.
They all have certainly earned that mug, each having died ‘a
warrior’s death!’”

Suddenly, the joyous look that was upon both
Baltor’s and Yaush’s face instantaneously transformed to sadness
and grief because they would both be greatly missing some of their
closest lifelong friends in the world—tears began to steadily pour
out of Yaush’s eyes.

After purposefully taking a few deep breaths
through just his nose, in order to keep his own grieving under
control, Baltor was the first to ask with great concern, “Should we
bury Salami, along with all my soldiers who also heroically died
upon the battlefield, Yaush? Or…would you like him, as well all the
martyred giants for that matter, to be buried in Valakan? Or
what?”

With an occasional tear flowing out of one of
Yaush’s eyes, he answered, “Shortly after we arrived to this very
battlefield—
sniff sniff
—and we were facing the gnomes face
to face, Salami whispered to me that if he was to die in this
war—
sniff sniff
—he wanted to be buried here amongst both men
and giants…”

After blowing out all the mucous clogging his
nose into the clean part of a slightly dirty handkerchief he had
kept in his pocket, Yaush continued, “I replied to him that I
wanted the same thing, as I want Jimnee to always remember me how I
was during my final stages of life…as ‘a man of honor.’ Therefore,
we should lay Salami to rest upon this battlefield. Later down the
road when we come back to pay homage, we can bring a life-size
statue and place it over his gravesite. As for my other fallen
brethren, my surviving brethren and I will need to decide this
privately…”

Throughout Yaush’s answer, Baltor fought
unbelievably hard to keep his own saddened emotions under control,
especially because he was really missing and grieving for Humonus.
After all, Baltor knew Salami pretty well for the last few years
and definitely missed this gentle giant, but with Humonus, he knew
this man for most of his life—a man who taught Baltor nearly every
bit of martial arts he knew.

Once the emotions were finally under control,
nearly a dozen seconds later, he cleared his throat and said, “Very
well, Yaush. Go take all the time you need, as you have all done
enough. My army will be quite busy. As for me, I need to go
retrieve the bulk of my troops still in the Vispano Province.”

Yaush, as well all the giants, silently
nodded their heads.

Baltor then asked in Pavelian,
“Ruling-General Stormea, your next mission is to directly oversee
the construction of the base camp, please? Oh, be ready to see a
portal open up sometime soon, and the bulk of my army arrive.”

Stormea replied, “Yes, my Sultan!” He next
began galloping his horse for the army.

Meanwhile, Cheo signed, “How are you going to
be getting there?”

Baltor said in the language of Pavelian, “I
need to teleport to the bulk of my forces, brief them on the
situation about the war that is nearly over, and then teleport back
here with them. From having killed the dragon, I’ve acquired all
her magical powers. While I am gone, will you take charge of the
army, King Cheo? You know what to do.”

With a smile, Cheo signed back, “Of course,
my friend.”

After a nod, Baltor concluded, “I will be
back shortly.”

Closing his eyes, he next mentally began to
draw the picture of Petrol’s face upon the world map inside his
head. Once the man’s current location was revealed, which location
was a thousand miles to the northwest between the Bospa Mountains
and the Galgaa Jungles, Baltor drew a rune into the air using just
his index finger. A moment later, a diamond-shaped portal just big
enough for him opened—in the middle of the air.

He waved one final time to everyone still
present, before walking through the portal and appearing forty feet
in front of the bulk of his army with Petrol and Thorn in the
lead—they were currently marching southeast. The second after he
had completely stepped through, the portal instantly
disappeared.

Of course Petrol, Thorn, as well the rest of
the troops had become “incredibly alarmed” at seeing a magical
portal pop out of nowhere for the very first time in their
lives—all suspiciously had weapons drawn, quickly surrounding this
man who appeared to be their Sultan, but could be another dark
gnome magic trick!

Extending both hands out peacefully in front
of him, Baltor greeted, “Greetings generals—it is indeed I, your
Sultan! The war is nearly over, but not quite. The dragon has been
slain, and the bulk of the dark gnomes, which still number in the
hundreds of thousands, have fled, but these escapees will soon find
that there is no escape...”

“We nearly won? How do I—or we—know that it’s
really you?” Thorn was the first to ask.

Baltor answered the question with another
question, “Remember our important conversation that we shared back
in the command tent shortly before the victory at Lasparus?”

“It is you, my Sultan—welcome back!”

“Good to be back, Commanding-General.”

By this time, Travail had arrived on
horseback, and now bore a smile on his face. “My Sultan…how fares
the war?”

At this point, Baltor briefed them, “Very
good…almost over but not quite. What I’m about to do, gentlemen, as
hard as it may be for you to believe, is to teleport all our forces
deep into the middle of the Galgaa Jungles, and there we shall
destroy the remnants of the gnome army, which should only take a
couple weeks, so that we can all go home. To explain how this is
possible in a nutshell, it is because I killed the dragon, and
acquired her magical runic powers, that I can now teleport entire
armies.”

Simultaneously, both Thorn and Travail
replied completely in awe, “Hmmm…”

Just before Baltor did a one-eighty degree
turn, he said, “If you gentlemen will just give me a minute, the
portal will be ready. Inform the men to be ready to march.”

“Yes, my Sultan!” both men cried.

After focusing on the image of Stormea, and
receiving an image of his location on the world map inside his
mind, a rune appeared in his mind. Immediately he drew it out.

A second later, a rectangular ten-foot-tall
by fifty-foot wide portal opened up in front of him—though slightly
weary from all the energy spent, Baltor stepped to the side of the
portal, and said, “Call your men to march through by columns of
ten, Commanding-Generals Petrol and Thorn. Once they are through,
Senior-Commanding-Knight Travail, call your men through…same
formation.”

“You heard the Sultan! By columns of
ten—forward, march!” Petrol ordered.

With Petrol and Thorn in the lead, the troops
began to march or ride through the portal—after stepping through
the portal they immediately discover with awe and shock that they
were now in the center of the battlefield in the Galgaa Jungles.
Joining them, inevitably, were Travail and the Vispano Knights.

About three hours later, which was the very
moment after Baltor became the last person to walk through the
portal, it closed. Immediately he collapsed to the
ground—completely unconscious.

Within a few minutes time or so, he was
revived and okay … just totally drained and exhausted. Baltor’s
final orders, before he headed for the command tent and laid to
rest for the night, was that Petrol, Travail, and Thorn become
briefed by King Cheo and Ruling General Stormea on whatever needed
to be done.