Becoming the Supreme God

8

Heavy hooves tore through the newly purified grass and shattered the quiet awe of the harvest.

A dozen mounted soldiers breached the tree line and galloped into the clearing. They wore the crested iron breastplates of the royal guard. The riders corralled their massive warhorses into a wide line that blocked the path back to the slums of Ashguard. The starving peasants who had gathered at the edge of the fields scrambled backward in terror.

Halrik rode at the center of the formation. The heavy tax enforcer sat atop a black stallion and sneered down at the trembling citizens. He held a leather riding crop in one hand and rested the other on the pommel of his sheathed sword.

Leo watched the riders approach. His Systemic Templars stood silent and motionless around the massive piles of golden fruit. The towering Genesis Tree cast long shadows over the meadow.

"What manner of sorcery is this?" Halrik demanded. He yanked hard on his reins and brought his stallion to a halt just yards away from the nearest pile of fruit.

The enforcer stared at the towering tree and the vibrant green grass. The poisoned fields had been a barren wasteland just an hour ago. Now they held enough hyper nutritional food to feed the entire lower district for a month. Halrik did not look upon the miracle with reverence. His eyes gleamed with raw greed.

Amara stood near the front of the peasant crowd and clutched her younger brother to her side. She recognized the tax enforcer immediately. Halrik was the man who ordered the beatings when the slum dwellers could not pay their weekly copper tithe.

"Step away from the harvest," Halrik shouted. He pointed his riding crop directly at Leo. "By the decree of King Oric and Duke Alaric, all anomalous bounties belong to the crown. This fruit will be transported to the upper keep for inspection."

The peasants let out a collective groan of despair. They knew the truth of that decree. The food would go into the royal granaries to feed the nobility while the slums continued to starve.

Leo did not move. He kept his hands relaxed at his sides and looked up at the mounted enforcer.

"This harvest belongs to the people who need it," Leo said. His voice carried across the meadow with an unnatural resonance. "The keep has enough grain. You will leave this place and let them eat."

Halrik let out a barking laugh. He looked at Leo's simple clothes and lack of visible weapons. Then he looked at the silent silver giants standing in the grass. He assumed they were mere mercenaries hired by a rogue nobleman.

"You do not dictate terms to the crown," Halrik spat. He spurred his horse forward a few paces to loom over Leo. "I do not care what hedge magic you used to grow these crops. You are standing on sovereign land. Surrender the fruit or I will have you chained to a cart and dragged through the cobblestones."

"Your king has no authority here," Leo replied.

The murmurs of the peasant crowd died instantly. Claiming authority over the crown was treason. The punishment was a public beheading in the central market.

Halrik narrowed his eyes and his face flushed red with anger. He was not used to defiance from anyone standing in the dirt. He raised his hand and signaled the royal guards flanking him.

"Draw steel," Halrik commanded.

Twelve iron broadswords hissed out of their scabbards in unison. The mounted guards readied their weapons and fixed their stares on Leo. The warhorses stamped their heavy hooves and snorted in anticipation of the violence.

"I will give you one final chance to kneel," Halrik said. He cracked his riding crop against his heavy leather boot. "Drop to your knees and pledge this harvest to Duke Alaric."

Leo looked at the starving peasants cowering behind the horses. He saw mothers shielding their children and old men trembling in the dirt. They had lived their entire lives under the boot of these corrupt guards. They believed the men on horseback were untouchable.

It was time to break that illusion permanently.

"No," Leo said quietly.

Halrik smiled with cruel satisfaction. He dropped his raised hand.

"Ride him down," Halrik screamed. "Kill the mercenaries and take the fruit."

The royal guards slammed their spurs into the flanks of their horses. A dozen massive warhorses surged forward. The ground trembled under the concentrated weight of the cavalry charge. They covered the short distance in a matter of seconds. The riders raised their iron swords to cleave Leo in half.

Leo did not flinch. He did not draw a weapon or cast a spell. He simply spoke a single command.

"Break them."

The Systemic Templars moved.

They did not draw their broadswords from their scabbards. They did not shout a battle cry. The silver giants stepped forward to intercept the charging warhorses barehanded.

The collision defied all natural physics.

A standard warhorse weighed over a thousand pounds and carried a fully armored man at full gallop. The impact should have pulverized any human standing in the way.

The front rank of Templars planted their boots into the dirt and raised their gauntlets. They caught the charging beasts by their iron barding. The momentum of the cavalry charge halted instantly. The Templars did not yield a single inch.

The sickening sound of snapping bone and buckling iron echoed across the meadow.

Several horses collapsed as the kinetic force of their own charge rebounded into their bodies. The royal guards were violently ejected from their saddles. They flew through the air and crashed into the unyielding silver armor of the Templars.

One guard scrambled to his feet and swung his iron broadsword at a Templar's neck. The blade struck the silver helm and shattered into three useless pieces. The guard stared at the broken hilt in his hand.

The Templar reached out and grabbed the guard by the chest plate. The silver gauntlet crumpled the thick iron armor like paper. The Templar lifted the grown man off the ground with one hand and slammed him brutally into the dirt. The guard went limp.

The skirmish lasted less than thirty seconds.

It was an absolute s*******r of pride. The royal guards swung their weapons in blind panic. The Templars caught the incoming blades with their bare hands and snapped the iron. They delivered precise strikes that shattered ribs and dislocated shoulders without ever drawing their own steel.

Halrik watched his elite cavalry get dismantled by unarmed men. His arrogant sneer vanished. His face drained of all color as he pulled desperately on his reins to turn his horse around.

A Templar stepped into Halrik's path. The silver giant grabbed the bridle of the black stallion and forced the beast to its knees.

"Get away from me!" Halrik shrieked. He swung his riding crop wildly at the armored giant.

The Templar ignored the pathetic strikes. He reached up and grabbed Halrik by his heavy leather belt. He ripped the tax enforcer from the saddle and threw him through the air.

Halrik hit the ground hard. He tumbled across the wet grass and slid to a halt directly at Leo's feet. The heavy enforcer groaned and clutched his bruised ribs. He tasted mud and blood in his mouth.

Silence fell over the fields.

The twelve royal guards lay groaning in the dirt. Their weapons were shattered and their armor was ruined. The remaining warhorses fled back toward the tree line in a panic. The Systemic Templars returned to their rigid defensive formations around the fruit. They did not even breathe heavily.

Leo looked down at the man in the mud.

Halrik rolled onto his back and stared up at Leo. The enforcer was trembling violently. He realized he had not just challenged a rogue nobleman. He had attacked something far beyond mortal comprehension.

"Please," Halrik wheezed. He raised his hands in a desperate plea for mercy. "I was just following orders. The Duke commanded it."

Leo stepped closer. The divine pressure radiating from his avatar pressed down on the enforcer. Halrik gasped for air as the invisible weight settled over his chest.

"You will return to your central keep," Leo commanded.

Halrik nodded frantically. Tears mixed with the mud on his face.

"You will tell Duke Alaric that the outer fields no longer belong to him," Leo said. "You will tell King Oric that his laws do not apply here. Ashguard is under my protection now. If any of your guards return to steal from these people again I will not show mercy."

"I will tell them," Halrik stammered. He pushed himself backward through the mud like a cornered animal. "I swear it."

Leo dismissed the pressure. "Run."

Halrik scrambled to his feet. He did not bother to check on his injured men. He abandoned his horse and sprinted back toward the narrow alleyways of the lower district. The surviving guards limped after him, clutching their broken arms and ruined pride.

Leo watched them flee until they disappeared into the shadows of the slums. He turned his attention back to the starving citizens.

Amara and the rest of the peasants stood frozen in absolute shock.

They had spent their entire lives fearing the royal guard. A single tax collector could burn a house down or take a child away without consequence. The crown represented ultimate, untouchable power.

They had just watched a dozen mounted elites get swatted away like annoying insects.

The peasants looked at the shattered iron swords scattered in the grass. They looked at the towering Genesis Tree radiating pure vitality. Finally their eyes settled on Leo. He stood calmly amidst the chaos of the broken cavalry.

The fear that had chained them to the slums evaporated. A new emotion took root in their chests. It was a profound and overwhelming sense of salvation.

Amara took a tentative step forward. She let go of her brother's hand and walked toward the edge of the purified soil. She did not look at the golden fruit. She looked directly at Leo.

She dropped to both knees and pressed her forehead into the soft dirt.

"My Lord," Amara whispered. Her voice carried clearly in the quiet meadow.

An older man beside her followed suit. He knelt down and raised his calloused hands toward the sky. A mother holding an infant bowed her head. The movement rippled through the crowd like a wave. Five thousand starving citizens dropped to their knees in the dirt.

They did not kneel out of terror. They knelt out of pure devotion.

Leo opened his system interface. The blue screen materialized and the notification chime began to ring. The sound was continuous. The numbers on his ledger spun upward at a blinding pace as the raw faith poured into his domain.

The battle for Ashguard's stomach was over. The battle for their souls had just begun.