Herobrine's Message (51 page)

“Arraaaughh!”

Leonidas winced as a grating, high-pitched wail rang out from the other end of the alleyway. He opened his eyes and followed the gazes of Spyro and the three heads of the Wither to see what had made such an ear-splitting noise. What he saw made him question whether or not the Wither effect that was poisoning his body had affected his brain in any way. He couldn't possibly be seeing correctly.

There, at the other end of the alley, standing in the opening between the two brick buildings, stood Oob, Mella, and Stull. The three villagers were shrieking and wailing while looking up at the Wither, as if they were giving some sort of ghastly singing performance. The Wither, meanwhile, turned and surveyed the three villagers quizzically.

While Spyro just looked stunned, Leonidas's heart had dropped into his stomach.
What're the villagers doing here?
he thought to himself desperately.
Why aren't they in the Adorian Village? It's way too dangerous for them here!

Spyro finally seemed to snap back to his senses, and he glanced up at the Wither, who was now staring intently at the villagers, as if it were absorbing every single wail that they let out.

“What are you doing, you stupid monster?” Spyro
demanded, glaring up at the Wither indignantly. “Destroy those impudent villagers, and then destroy Leonidas!”

The Wither didn't shoot the villagers. Instead, it turned around and glared down at Spyro, rage ripe in all six of its eyes. Spyro's jaw dropped, and he cowered as the Wither let out a deadly, hollow roar. Its three mouths aimed at Spyro, and he cringed in preparation for the blast that never came. The three heads just kept pointing, white mouths glowing menacingly.

“It is okay, Leo-nidas!” Mella called across the ravaged alleyway to Leonidas, who was still staring at the renegade Wither, refusing to believe his eyes. “The big black boss skeleton monster thingy is on our side now. It will not attack you any more than it has already attacked you.”

“But . . . but . . . what did ya do?” Leonidas sputtered, trying to comprehend what had just happened. “And what're y'all doin' here?”

“We told the big black boss skeleton monster thingy to stop attacking you!” Oob said, sounding as though this should be obvious. “And we are here because we were bored of staying in the Adorian Village and wanted to come help you. It is a good thing, too, because we heard a large boom right after we—”

“But . . . then . . . why did it listen to ya and stop attackin' me?” Leonidas cut in.

“The big black boss skeleton monster thingy listened to us because we spoke to it in its native language. We remember how to speak in that language because we learned how to speak it by getting turned into Zombies. Getting turned into Zombies was bad, because we wanted to eat players, but it was good because we learned how to talk to the big black boss skeleton monster thingy!”

“Wait, hold up . . . you guys still remember how to talk in the language of the Wither? And ya just told it to stop attackin' me?”

“Is that not what we just said to you, Leo-nidas?” Mella said in exasperation. “The . . . um, how do you say it . . . Wither . . . will always listen to something that talks in its own language before it will listen to something that talks in the language of players and villagers.”

“But . . . if ya could stop the Withers all along . . . then how come y'all waited till now to do it?” Leonidas sputtered.

“The reason that we waited until now to talk to the Wither is because we did not think of talking to the Wither until now. Um . . .” Oob looked to the ground and blushed before he continued talking to Leonidas. “Well . . . please do not tell this to the other players, Leo-nidas . . . but I have realized that when compared to players, we villagers are not very smart.”

Leonidas rolled his eyes and chuckled. He was about to
thank them for saving him when something caught his eye. A figure emerging behind the villagers, sword in his hand. . . .

“Look out behind you!” Leonidas bellowed, but it was too late; Drake had already plunged his sword into Mella's back and pulled it out, sending her falling face-down to the ground. Before her sons could react, Drake grabbed Stull by the scruff of his brown collar with one hand and raised his glowing diamond sword to the front of the baby villager's neck with the other.

Leonidas gave a holler of fury, and was about to yell out at Drake when he felt a horrible lurch in his stomach. He looked down at his skin and saw black smoke rising from it. He realized with a jolt that, in his elation over being saved by the villagers, he hadn't even noticed the deadly poison from the Wither's attack getting stronger and stronger. He attempted to get out one final word, but the toxins overwhelmed him, and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Oob looked wildly back and forth between his mother, his brother, and the Noctem General. Mella lay on the ground, totally immobile, and making no sounds. Oob couldn't tell if she were dead or alive. Stull looked petrified, afraid to make even the slightest movement as he stood still as a statue, a horrified expression on his face and a sword held to his throat. Drake looked absolutely sinister, holding the sword totally still and calmly glancing over to see Spyro still
cowering under the threefold glare of the Wither. He looked back at Oob.

“If you don't want this little one to end up like her,” he said slowly, jerking his head toward Mella, still lying on the ground, “you'll tell that Wither that from now on, it is no longer allowed to take commands from villagers. Only from members of the Noctem Alliance.”

Oob's mind was racing. His concern for the limp form of his mother barely registered as he looked at his brother. Oob was torn. On the one hand, he knew that if he gave the Wither back to the Noctem Alliance, they would use it to do bad things . . .
very
bad things. But on the other hand . . . if he didn't . . . they would kill Stull.

Drake chuckled as his lips curled upward into a smile, amused by Oob's inner conflict that showed on his face. “Don't feel bad, little guy,” Drake growled maliciously as he raised his sword closer to the baby villager's neck. “This would be a hard choice for a
player
to make, and you . . . you are far,
far
less than a player. You're nothing but a simple-minded, ignorant, useless little—
Aaaauggh
!”

Drake let out a cry as the arrow sunk into his right hand. The sword fell to the ground with a clang as his left hand flew out wildly to the side. He involuntarily released Stull, sending him flying through the air and crashing into his older brother. Cringing, Drake ripped the arrow out of his hand, and spun
around to see another player standing at the end of the alleyway, lowering her bow. Her leather armor was pure white, stained with the marks of warfare, and he hardly noticed her giant, red lips next to the outraged scowl on her face.

“Don't you
dare
touch them,” Cassandrix hissed.

Desperately, Drake snatched his sword off the ground and raised it over the two villagers, who were still lying in a heap on the ground next to their mother.
Fine,
he sneered to himself.
If I can't have the Wither . . . no one can.
Drake plunged his sword downward, and it was about to enter Oob's back when a massive force collided with Drake. Cassandrix slammed shoulder-first into Drake, sending him tumbling across the ground, coming to a stop at the very edge of a hole the Wither had blasted into the ground.

Within seconds, Cassandrix was upon him. Before Drake had a chance to even regain his footing, her diamond sword had sliced through his black leather armor, sending him tumbling backward. Down he plummeted into the old mine, but not before reaching up and grabbing Cassandrix's foot, pulling her down with him.

The two players fell for a few seconds, tumbling through space, before hitting the dirt-block ground below them with a thud. They rolled in opposite directions from the impact for a few blocks before coming to a stop. Cassandrix opened her eyes and winced. The fall had dealt quite a lot of damage
to her, and it felt as though a few of her insides had been displaced. From behind her, she heard a moan, and instantly she felt wide awake. Drake was damaged, too—this was her opportunity to finish him off. Cassandrix forced herself to a standing position and, as fast as her damaged legs could carry her, she made her way over to Drake, who was still struggling to get to his feet.

As she walked, she noticed something peculiar. The sound on the dirt blocks below her feet seemed different than usual, yet somehow familiar. Cassandrix looked around the cave and saw several holes in the ground, through which a bright light was shining. One of them was right next to her. Cassandrix peered down into the hole, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw a massive lake of lava nearly twenty blocks below them. As she examined the hole further, she realized with a jolt that the entire expanse of dirt that she and Drake had landed on was only one block thick.

All at once, she was hit by a rush of comprehension as she realized what this was—an expanse of dirt blocks, forming a one-block-thick platform over a lake of liquid. As she stood across from her opponent, who was just tossing an empty potion bottle to the side, fumes of red smoke started to rise off him.

All right, Cassandrix,
she thought to herself.
Time to earn the title of Elementia's greatest Spleef player.

Cassandrix raised her sword as Drake raised his, but stood still as he began to charge at her.
I'll have to play defensively,
she thought.
I've taken a lot of damage, and he's all healed up from his potion, so I'll have to let him tire himself out.

Drake was nearly upon her now, and he raised his sword to strike. Just as the blow was about to fall, Cassandrix sidestepped the slash, spinning around and sweeping her feet underneath Drake. As he toppled to the ground, Cassandrix raised her own sword, and she knew that Drake would expect her to stab him and roll out of the way, and that's exactly what she let him do. As he rolled backward, Cassandrix drove her sword into the dirt block, gripped it tightly, and twisted. Instantly, the frail dirt block was destroyed, falling down into the lava below and disappearing into a puff of smoke.

Drake was back on his feet, and he reared up to deliver another strike. Cassandrix felt the pain of the fall searing through her legs and knew what she had to do. As Drake charged in, she sidestepped yet again, lessening the impact as Drake brought his blade down on her, only to be countered by her own diamond weapon. For a moment, the two players pressed their weapons into each other, sending sparks onto the dirt-block ground every time they slid across each other. Bolstered by the potion, Drake began to overpower Cassandrix, and she took a deep breath and drove her sword
downward, still locked onto Drake's. The two swords tore through the dirt-block ground, cutting a crescent-shaped hole into the ground, revealing the lava below.

Drake hardly noticed the molten liquid below. He was more interested in Cassandrix, who proceeded, with a calm and calculated air around her, to sidestep every attack that Drake threw at her. More often than not, Drake's sword stabbed deep into the dirt, and once the sword was free, the block broke with a crunch, falling into the lava pit below.

After a minute of fighting like this and not landing a hit, Cassandrix could tell that Drake was starting to get frustrated. His eyes were wild and manic, and his sword strikes were getting more powerful and less precise, now destroying a bit of the floor with every single strike. Cassandrix kept a level head, continuing to move around Drake in a circle, dodging blow after blow as he stood in place, wrecking the floor around him. The floor was now so thin that she had to hop between single blocks that were floating over the now-exposed lava moat, but Drake's attacks were so wild in his aggravation that she was able to dodge them effortlessly.

After a few minutes had passed, Cassandrix stepped away from Drake after a particularly fierce sword strike and looked at him with a smile on her face.

“It's over, Drake,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” Drake demanded, spit flying from his mouth in rage. “Neither of us have landed one single attack!”

“Yes,” Cassandrix replied smugly, gesturing to the floor around Drake, “
you
have.”

Drake looked down at the floor, and his mouth dropped open in shock. He was standing on a tiny island of blocks that was floating in the middle of a ring of emptiness that stretched all the way down to the lava. Drake looked around in desperation, hoping to find some way to escape this island, but then he saw, to his horror, that Cassandrix was reaching her sword out into the pitfall, destroying all the remaining blocks that Drake might have had any hope of jumping onto.

When she finished, she looked up at Drake. His eyes widened, and his pupils shrank down to tiny dots as he watched Cassandrix draw out her bow.

“No! No, please!” Drake begged, dropping to his knees. “I beg of you . . . have mercy!”

“I might, Drake,” Cassandrix replied as she pulled back the string, hatred etched into her face. “If
anybody
else had stabbed an innocent villager and threatened to murder a child, then perhaps, if he pleaded insanity, I might've let him live. But you forget, Drake . . . you're nothing but a simple-minded, ignorant, useless little Noctem.”

And with that, Cassandrix let the arrow fly.

Drake whipped out his sword as fast as possible, deflecting the arrow, but two more were already on their way. Drake tried to block the stream of arrows flying from Cassandrix's bow, and at first, he was successful. However, it only took one misstep for an arrow to sink into Drake's hand yet again, causing him to howl in pain and drop his sword into the pit of molten lava below him.

From there, it was all over. One more arrow to the chest was all that it took to send Drake tumbling off his little island, down into the molten pit below.