The New Order (12 page)

“Villager! Why have you not paid tribute today? It's almost sunset!”

Leonidas did a double take. He couldn't believe what was happening. The player had looked straight past him to Moganga. She looked outraged for a moment before her face suddenly looked mortified, as if she were the one who had interrupted their ritual.

“Oh, I am very sorry! I have forgotten to organize the collection today,” said Moganga meekly. Leonidas was flabbergasted. He had never seen Moganga look submissive toward a player before in his life! Who were these guys?

“Well, then,” replied the one in the tunic, “I suggest you
round that up quickly, villager. That silly little song you were doing can wait.” His voice was calm, collected, and cool, yet menacing and chilling to the core.

Leonidas realized the players didn't recognize him. He supposed the soldiers must be here for some other reason. Come to think of it, he did vaguely recall that Caesar had, some time ago, shared intelligence with him that Stan had sent troops to protect the NPC villages. He recalled that Caesar had been quite upset about it, too, stating that the villagers were integral to a later phase in Lord Tenebris's plan.

As soon as he realized this, he was livid. What audacity he had to address Moganga, the leader of the villagers, with such disrespect! It was bad enough for an average player to insult the villagers, but what if these soldiers really were here to protect the villagers and they were still insulting them? Leonidas was about to open his mouth to defend Moganga, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught her giving an almost imperceptible shake of the head. Leonidas was confused, but he bit his tongue nonetheless.

“I will organize them now,” replied Moganga with great humility. “You shall receive your tribute as quickly as possible, sir.”

Sir
? She was callin' him sir?
Leonidas had never heard Moganga address a player as her superior in his life.
What was goin' on here?

No more was said for a while, as Moganga ordered the villagers to go and collect their tribute, whatever it was, and bring it to the church. The villagers obeyed without question, and they all filed out of the church. Leonidas watched in shock as slowly but surely, every villager returned to the church with a good stock of supplies in hand. Mella and Blerge returned with armfuls of wheat and carrots and dropped them at the feet of the players before quietly returning to their seats.

The other villagers soon followed. Libroru brought a whole mess of arrows to the pile, Ohsow the butcher added a large number of cooked chickens, and Leonidas's eyes popped as Leol the blacksmith dropped a significant number of uncrafted diamonds and iron ingots onto the heap. Even more startling was when Moganga herself dropped some of her own personal supply of glowstone dust, which Leonidas knew she guarded jealously, onto the pile. As the size of the pile increased with each villager, so too did the size of the ecstatic grins on the faces of the three players.

“Your contribution to the army is much appreciated,” said the lead soldier with the tunic and chilling voice as the three of them covetously stuffed their inventories with the villagers' supplies. “As usual, we'll expect another payment in three days' time. Go back to whatever you were doing, villager,” he said, with a condescending look at Moganga, before
he led the other two out the door, slamming it behind him.

The instant the door slammed shut, the villagers broke out into a cacophonous cheer that caught Leonidas off guard. They all swarmed around him, greeting him, exalting him, staring at him to be sure he was real. As excited as he was to be with the villagers again, he couldn't properly enjoy it until he figured out what had just happened.

“Excuse me, everyone,” said Leonidas, and instantly, the congregation fell quiet.

“Yes, dear Sacred One, Leo-nidas?” asked Moganga reverently. Leonidas had to suppress a chuckle. He had almost forgotten the disjointed way that the villagers pronounced his name.

“I'm so glad to be back here, ya have no idea,” said Leonidas. “Right now, though, I'm pretty tired from hikin' all the way out here. How about I just take a rest tonight and I can catch up with you all tomorrow?”

“Your wish is our command, dear Leo-nidas,” replied Moganga. She turned to her people. “People of the village, nightfall is nearly upon us. All villagers are to return to their homes immediately. The Sacred One Leo-nidas shall stay in the church for the night. All people of the village shall meet in the church when the sun next rises, at which point we shall proceed to speak with Leo-nidas. Now, off you go!” she said firmly.

Leonidas was always impressed by how readily the villagers followed Moganga's commands. Not five seconds after her mandate was finished, the church was completely deserted save for Moganga and himself.

“I have noticed that you have suffered from wounds, Leo-nidas,” said Moganga, gesturing to the arrow marks in his shoulder and arm. “I shall mend your wounds hastily, and then, I too shall respect your wishes and leave you to sleep in peace.” And with that, Moganga, in an almost businesslike manner, reached into the folds of her purple robes and pulled out the same type of glowstone dust that she had just given to the soldiers. Leonidas climbed onto the altar and lay down on his stomach, allowing Moganga's magic-enhanced hands to treat the wound on his shoulder. Leonidas allowed himself one sigh of relief as the pain began to ease, before he started talking.

“Hey, Moganga, I have a couple questions,” he said slowly.

“If I am able to answer your questions, Leo-nidas, I most certainly will,” replied Moganga kindly.

“Well . . . they're about those guys that just came in. First of all, who are they?”

“Oh, those players are members of the army of a very brave player named Stan2012,” she replied. “He is the new ruler of the players of this world, and he believes that the villages should have protection in case bad players come into
our village. We are all very happy regarding their presence here.”

Leonidas nearly fell off the altar. “What? You guys are happy that the soldiers are takin' your stuff?”

“It is a small price to pay for the protection,” replied Moganga. “The soldiers explained to us when they first came to our village that they would require resources to protect us. Therefore, every third day, we villagers offer tribute to them, giving them all the goods that we can.”

“And you guys are all okay with that? It doesn't make life harder for ya to give these guys so much of your stuff?”

“Oh, certain aspects of our life have become more difficult,” replied Moganga as she shifted the focus of her healing to the puncture wound on his arm. “Many of us now go to bed hungry each night because our farmers are giving so much of their crop to the soldiers. It is a small price to pay so that we are protected from dangers.”

Leonidas's stomach clenched. He did not like the sound of what was going on. “What about an Iron Golem? You guys have a pretty big village here, don't ya have an Iron Golem to protect ya?”

“Oh yes, we do,” replied Moganga. “However, the Iron Golem is more adept at fighting the evil monsters that threaten our village at night. The players have told us that they are specially trained to combat bad players who might
come into our village and attempt to do us harm.”

Leonidas had nothing to say to this. He knew what he had to do next; however, it might not be prudent to do it with Moganga's knowledge. He simply let her finish her job healing his arm. When she was finished, she simply walked over to the ladder at the back of the church and climbed to her quarters without so much as a good night.

Leonidas smirked. The NPC villagers certainly were quirky little buggers, but he loved them like family. He couldn't bear to see them abused for their naiveté like this, and he determined that he had to put an end to it immediately.

A few minutes after Moganga had entered the loft, Leonidas prepared himself for what he was about to do. He pulled on his leather armor and slung his bow over his back, praying that he wouldn't have to use it, but prepared to do so if the necessity arose. A quiver of arrows at his right hip and an iron sword at his left, Leonidas silently opened the front door of the church, stepped outside, and closed the wooden door behind him with a faint creak.

CHAPTER 12
CLASH OF THE SAVIORS

L
eonidas glanced at the sky. The moon was almost a complete square in the star-speckled black velvet sky. He remembered the old days, fighting off massive waves of mobs each full moon during the siege on the village, always failing to kill the elusive Spider Jockey. The village was safe tonight, but within a few days, the three players would have to fight off the largest horde of evil mobs they had ever seen.
Even more of a reason
, he thought,
for gettin' these soldiers to leave the village
.

The village had an eerie, ominous feeling, in the light of the moon, slightly extenuated by the wavering torchlight. The roads were silent, save the distant sound of evil mobs crying in agony, punctuated by splats. This, he supposed, was the Iron Golem doing its work. Besides this, Leonidas's ears caught the faint sound of joyous, raucous laughter and conversation.

Leonidas traced the sounds to a house at the far end of the gravel road, near the outer border of the village. He dashed up to about ten blocks away and then silently snuck up to the back window. He began listening to the conversation within, hoping for any more information about these mysterious soldiers.

“Can you believe this? This is like, twice as many diamonds as last time!” one of the players exclaimed,
his voice deep and with a slightly Russian accent. There was the clinking sound of the player sifting his blocky hands through a pile of diamonds.

“I know, man, I know! And I can't believe this chicken!” This player had an upper-class accent, and sounded as if he were talking through a mouthful of food. “Honestly, what does the villager thing put in this stuff? It's delicious! When I go home, I'm taking one of those villager things with me so it can be my personal chef!”

“Oh, come on! The chicken, seriously? That's what impresses you? Not the stack of hundreds of diamonds and gold and iron ingots?”

“We could mine our own diamonds if we wanted to, man, but I don't think that any player alive could make chicken this good!”

“I can't believe you, man.” The Russian guy sighed in exasperation. “You'd choose a chicken buffet over a diamond buffet? I mean, just think about it! How hard is it to get a chicken, and how hard is it to get a diamond?”

“It's not about how hard it is, it's about how good it tastes!” This player seemed irritated now. “The meat is just so succulent.”

“Aw, why am I even bothering with you?” the Russian player scoffed. “You don't get what I'm saying, you've never mined a diamond in your life!”

“Well, I've tried a few times, but it's so hard! You have to fight off a ton of monsters down there, it's all claustrophobic and everything, half the time you can't even find . . .”

“I
know
! I've actually done it before, unlike you! So I actually understand that it's really nice to have these villager things do all the work!”

“Hey, it's not my fault my dad gives me all the diamonds I want!”

“How did I get stuck with you as a partner? You're a total brat, you know that?”

“I didn't ask to get drafted; don't yell at me!”

“Would you two shut up!” a third voice bellowed, and Leonidas almost fell out of his crouch in surprise. He recognized this voice as the one who had ordered Moganga around in the church. “I might as well be working with two of the villagers. You two are so insufferably idiotic!”

“Hey, sorry, Boss, but I just like chicken, don't yell at me!” the upper-class player replied snootily.

“That's enough of you,” the boss said in his cool, collected, yet terrifying way. “Why haven't you two started to craft the diamond armor yet?”

“Why would we need diamond armor?” the Russian player asked. “We're not actually going to protect the villager things, are we?”

“Of course not!” the boss scoffed. “These villagers are
unintelligent animals. I don't even understand why President Stan wants the things safe. What are they doing for him? We should just count ourselves lucky that we got assigned out here, where we can just sit around, do nothing and let the . . . ah . . . taxes pile up!”

The player laughed as Leonidas was fighting to keep himself from vomiting with rage.

“So . . . er . . . what's the point of crafting the armor again?” the upper-class player asked.

“What? Oh, right,” the boss replied as if being awakened from a daydream. “We need to look like we're doing something if President Stan sends someone out here to take a report on us. The diamond armor makes it seem like we're actually trying.”

“So . . . we're not actually going to be fighting anything?” the upper-class players asked.

“Of course not!” the boss laughed. “I certainly don't care about the villagers! They're just mindless NPCs, right?”

“Well, of course I agree . . .”

“Then we're not gonna be fighting anything!” said the boss in an airy voice, clearly amused at how slow his soldier was being. “And even if we were doing anything, it's not like there's anything out here that's an actual threat!”

“That's where you're wrong,” snarled Leonidas under his breath as, unable to contain his indignation any longer,
he sprinted to the front of the house and slammed the door open.

The three players whipped their heads up in shock. Leonidas was taken aback for a moment by the sheer amount of materials that he could see in the house. The players were gathered around chests spilling over with chicken, cookies, wheat, carrots, potatoes, diamonds, gold, iron, and dozens of other things that the villagers handled in their professions.

The player with futuristic blue armor and the one with the tunic, who was clearly the boss, were sitting atop two wood blocks on the ground. The bearded player knelt next to a crafting table and was in the process of crafting a diamond chestplate. All of them wore an identical look of outrage on their faces.

“What do you think you're doing?” the one with the blue armor asked in his upper-class accent.

“I'm demandin' that ya leave this village. Right now,” said Leonidas firmly, eyebrows creased and voice shaking in fury. He drew his bow and loaded it, much to the alarm of the three players. “And you're to leave all the materials that you've taken from the villagers here.”

“Who do you think you are?” the boss asked in a voice of composed fury, keeping his cool, but obviously flabbergasted nonetheless.

“Wait a minute . . . ,” said the bearded one in his Russian
accent. “You're . . . You were that player who was in the church with the villagers when we collected our taxes today!”

“Ya weren't collectin' taxes,” seethed Leonidas, pulling the string of the bow back even farther. “Ya were abusin' the villagers. Ya knew that they weren't smart enough to see that ya were takin' advantage of 'em. Ya three don't deserve to call yourselves members of Stan's army. You're just a bunch of thugs.”

“How dare you!” cried the boss, slamming his fist onto the crafting table in rage. “You have the audacity to speak to a ranking officer of the army of . . .”

He stopped in midsentence as the arrow left Leonidas's bow and flew directly toward him. The boss's eyes followed the arrow as it passed within an inch of his neck before embedding in the wall behind him. He spun back around to look at Leonidas, outraged.

“Yeah, I do,” replied Leonidas, loading another arrow, no trace of mercy in his face. “As much as I despise the three of ya, though, I don't wanna kill ya. Don't make me. I'll spare the three of ya if ya leave this village, don't take anythin' with ya, and never come back. It's your choice.”

There was a moment of tense silence. Then, slowly, the boss smiled, and, quick as a flash, he whipped a diamond pickaxe out of his inventory. The other two followed his lead, the armored one drawing a bow of his own and the bearded
one pulling out a diamond sword.

“Very well then, stranger,” the boss replied. “If you'd like to fight, then we will gladly oblige you. We are members of the army of Stan2012, the greatest armed forces in Minecraft. There are three of us and only one of you, so if you're man enough, fire the first shot.” A sinister grin broke on his face at these words.

That was all the invitation Leonidas needed. Leonidas jerked the bow downward, rapidly changing aim from the boss's head to his stomach, and fired. With equal swiftness, the boss flicked his pickaxe downward and deflected the arrow with a rapid spin, laughing and waving his free hand forward. The bearded player rushed Leonidas with his sword drawn, while the armored player shot an arrow at Leonidas from afar.

Leonidas ducked the arrow and short-hopped backward to dodge the powerful downward strike from the bearded player's sword. This initial strike shifted the gears of Leonidas's mind into tactics mode. The armored one clearly wasn't a great shot, and the bearded one's overpowered initial strike told Leonidas that he wasn't great with a sword either. That left the boss as the only true threat, as he had moved surprisingly fast with that pickaxe.

Leonidas sprinted into the street, followed in hot pursuit by the bearded one, while the armored one fired more shots.
Leonidas reloaded his bow as he ran, and in an instant he spun around, took aim, and shot an arrow straight at the bearded one's chest. He managed to deflect the first arrow, but the next two sunk directly into the bearded player's heart, causing him to keel over sideways, a ring of items bursting about him.

For some reason, Leonidas felt uneasy. Although the rage he felt at these players' maltreatment of the villagers could not be expressed in words, Leonidas still felt a twinge of uncomfortable guilt as he saw the lifeless body of this player whose name he didn't even know. Despite this, he also couldn't help but think:
one down, two to go.

The next kill was even more effortless. Leonidas's skill with a bow was equal to the skill of the armored one tenfold. While none of his opponent's shots had come close to touching Leonidas, it only took one arrow from Leonidas's bow to send the armored player the same way as his bearded comrade.

There, again, came the twinge of guilt, now even more than before as he realized the implications of what he had just done. This player hadn't even wanted to join Stan's army, he had been drafted.

But Leonidas shook away the feeling, for the time being at least, when he heard a voice from behind him.

“Very impressive, my friend. Clearly, you are more skilled than you look.”

Leonidas spun around and locked eyes with the boss, still standing in the doorway of the house containing the villagers' loot. He smiled that unnerving, merciless smile, holding up a loaded bow. There was no hint of anger in his voice, no hint of any concern that Leonidas had just killed his two comrades. The only emotion present was coldhearted amusement. Leonidas's temple twitched with vehemence, and he knew he would feel no remorse at all for ending this life.

The two arrows flew at the same time. Leonidas dive-rolled to the side, and then looked up to see that the boss had done the same. Leonidas shot off three more arrows, which the boss evaded by sprawling onto the ground and tunneling with his pickaxe into the sand.

Leonidas knew what the boss was trying. Leonidas stepped up onto the wooden ring encircling the nearest wheat farm and, with a running dash, leaped and grabbed on to the edge of the roof of the nearest house, loading his bow and waiting for the boss to come up from the ground.

Leonidas waited, but the only sounds he could discern came from the Iron Golem's distant massacre. He began to become a little unnerved. Where was this guy? Shouldn't he have resurfaced by now?

Leonidas heard the sound of a string being stretched just as he thought this. He barely turned in time to see that the
boss had silently resurfaced behind him, and an arrow was flying straight toward him.
Very clever
, thought Leonidas bitterly as he dodged the arrow, losing his balance and tumbling off the roof of the house.

He landed on the ground with a sickly thud, and he felt pain course through his leg. Through gritted teeth, Leonidas glanced up to see that his bow had fallen on the ground a good ten blocks away. At the same time, he became aware that the boss had rounded the corner of the house and was charging at him at full speed, diamond pickaxe drawn.

Leonidas quickly formulated a plan. He reached for the bow before allowing himself to fall face-down on the ground, pretending to be completely out of energy. The boss gave a devious grin, and he was upon Leonidas in moments. He raised his diamond pickaxe, and right as the killing blow was about to fall, Leonidas sent the iron sword he had been concealing swinging up toward the boss in an almighty thrust.

The sword struck the boss across the arm, opening a gaping gash in his right shoulder. As he clutched his arm in pain, he was in no position to stop Leonidas from scampering over to his bow and sending four arrows into his chest in the space of less than two seconds.

Leonidas watched in satisfaction as the boss staggered backward toward the house, seconds away from death. That satisfaction turned to horror in an instant, however, as the
boss haphazardly tossed a block of TNT onto the ground and touched it with a redstone torch before finally collapsing.

Leonidas could only hobble as fast as he could on his crippled leg toward the house outside of which the TNT block sat hissing. As soon as he realized whose house it was, he bellowed in desperation, “LIBRORU! Get out of there, quickly!”

The front door flew open seconds later, and the groggy-eyed head of Libroru poked out.

“What is happening out—” the villager began to ask, before he was cut off by the explosion.

Leonidas, who had desperately and senselessly been limping toward the house, was knocked back by the force of the blast and felt the heat scorch his arms as he tumbled across the gravel road. As his disorientation faded, and his world slowly fell back into place, Leonidas felt a terrible pain coursing through both his legs. He forced himself to glance up at the scene around him. What he saw made his stomach dissolve.