Unchosen Champion

Supreme Champion Jerry the First was positively giddy with excitement. The victory he anticipated was almost within his grasp, and with it, he knew his position within the Sapphire Armada would be secured. This would be his gift to what would become his new faction. A settlement as a tithe. Then he would have the leverage to keep climbing. The Endless Empire was no longer useful to him, so he was perfectly willing to trade up. Accepting the offer to align with the Armada was the logical choice. Loyalty was something for the dimwitted.

The lightning tornado that had interrupted the final assault had been an unexpected development, but just as the rest of the rebel efforts, it merely delayed the inevitable. It further cemented the idea that they had been involved in breaking their leader out of jail, but Jerry didn’t find the sequel as awe inspiring as the unexpected hurricane that engulfed the airport. Some of his best soldiers could scrape together theatrical abilities every once in a while as well, though the tornado had annihilated the hailstorm that one of his promising captains summoned to counter it. It was just another small embarrassment from one of his underlings in a long series of such disappointments.

The Chosen of the Empire maintained both a numerical and a material advantage with the clearly established enemy. As long as he kept his forces together, he would prevent the rebels’ initial guerilla tactics from being effective. Forcing them into standing toe-to-toe with his superior force, or simply cede their base, scattering them to the wind, had been the adjustment they needed to grasp victory. Trying to root them out of the decimated warehouses had proven to cost far too much.

He had no idea how the insurgents concocted such a dramatic area skill, but it was too little, too late. A temporary, last minute reprieve was all that they could buy with their efforts. They remained cornered inside of the port, and the storm was rapidly fading while he allowed his battalions a short rest. If he was lucky, the traitorous rebels would feel emboldened enough to meet them on the open highway again where they would be more easily steamrolled by his troops.

The remaining Chosen of the Empire were being forged into his personal army through the constant series of battles since the end of the siege event. Fighting against their brothers who had abandoned them for the doomed revolution only pushed them further into Jerry’s grasp. The rebels represented a baptism for those who would become truly loyal to him, and him alone. In that sense, he owed the revolution gratitude, they did him a favor, discarding the chaff that had accumulated beneath him and honing what remained.

Jerry almost pitied the Sapphire Armada, for they would be welcoming a Trojan Horse into their midst. They thought they would get a subordinate settlement in Empress City, submissive to their authority, but Jerry wouldn’t be content with them as his master. He couldn’t help but giggle at how well things were going. Nothing would stop his rise.

The sound of a distant, muffled explosion, followed by muttering among his troops brought his attention away from his plans for the future, back to the present. “What’s this?” Jerry asked, as the smile slid off his face.

His expression transformed to his more typical scowl as his new Viceroy’s battalions appeared on their side of the highway, as expected, but in an all out retreat, practically tripping over themselves to run and join Jerry’s resting squads. His generals should have led a controlled retreat to hold the end of the highway as he had ordered ahead of time. Jerry raised an eyebrow as he failed to spot his advisor among the fleeing troops and the army was notably smaller than expected, as if they had been cut in half. The rebels shouldn’t have been capable of reducing them so drastically given how the rest of the campaign had progressed.

“How many are missing?” He asked as the exit ramp emptied completely and the remnants put distance between themselves and the battlefield, racing to join Jerry’s forces as if they were chased by invisible monsters, hot on their heels. They had completely abandoned their own formation even though the weeks of fighting the rebels had been a lesson in the advantages of coordination.

“Hard to say, Supreme Champion, but it looks like they were beaten quite badly.” His scout advisor answered. Jerry hadn’t learned his name yet, but he had some uses, mostly when it came to identifying enemies from a distance. “The Viceroy is not among them.” The scout finished.

Jerry rolled his eyes. Viceroys died so much, it was almost as if the position itself made them incompetent. When his eyes returned to the road, he noticed a single man standing still in the distance, near the end of the highway, far behind his fleeing troops. One glance told him he wasn’t one of theirs. “Who’s that?” He asked. It seemed like Jerry only blinked and the warrior suddenly appeared. Was that who the legion was fleeing from? Preposterous.

“Hm.” The scout advisor squinted, then seemed to swallow his tongue after he triggered his skill, bemused by what he saw.