Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign - By Phillip Jones Page 0,291

Serpent King’s kingdom were few.

George had used his power to strengthen Kepler’s body, and he rode the demon for most of that 4 Peaks. The jaguar’s brothers had tagged along. They poked fun as Kepler complained about the saddle the mage had created. Yet despite his brothers’ taunting, Kepler was accepting of his role.

As they approached the rolling pastures where the Minotaur King grazed, George put up a wall of force to protect the group as they rode into the area. As expected, the group’s intrusion was not welcomed. The part-bull, part-human subjects of the Minotaur King bellowed curses as the intruders passed.

George had never seen so many of these creatures. Their large, bull heads, attached to human torsos and human arms, were massive. Their bottom halves were massive cow-like legs that rippled as their weight shifted. They stood upright and walked like any normal man, but they still grazed. It was odd to watch them reach down near their hooves, tear the grass from the earth with their hands and then place it near their mouths, only to scoop the grass in with their large tongues to consume it.

As they drew closer to the king, the beasts became aggressive and attacked. They bounced off George’s magic shield like a child’s ball off a brick wall. The mage laughed as the beasts picked themselves up off the ground, dazed from the collision.

Kepler stopped in front of the Minotaur King.

After watching his strongest subjects fail to break through George’s magic, the king addressed the mage. “Pro tay mes galomay.”

Kepler translated. “George, he wants to know if you’re a god. I think he’s asking because they can’t touch you.”

George looked at the king and smiled. “Tell him I am.”

Kepler looked over his shoulder at George. “Are you serious?”

“Sure. Why not? He doesn’t know any different.”

Kepler rolled his eyes, and then the jaguar turned his head toward the Minotaur. “Ages meslopa portray la mor. Eswa go sloma.”

George patted Kepler on his shoulder. “Tell him my name and ask him his.”

Kepler did as instructed. “He said his name, if I’m translating it right, is Horace.”

“Horace?” George chided. “What the hell? Was his mother pissed when she named him?”

Kepler growled. “This isn’t the proper series of moments to jest. A little tact would be best for this situation.”

“Blah, blah, blah. I get it. Tell Horace it would be wise to send his scouts to watch for Brandor’s army. Tell him Brandor is going to kill all beasts who live under a monarchy. Tell him the Scorpion King has already passed, and it’s only a matter of moments until he’s next. Tell him Brandor’s next target will be the Serpent King’s city, and tell him I can show him some of Brandor’s handiwork.”

Kepler rolled his eyes and thought, Tell him, tell him, tell him, tell him. What an idiot. The demon spoke with the Minotaur King.

George smiled within as the beast bellowed.

Kepler turned to translate. “He’s angry, George. He hates Brandor’s new king. He feels their champion was cheated out of his victory, and he wants revenge.”

George tilted his head. “I saw that fight. I don’t know why he feels like he was cheated, but this is perfect. You couldn’t ask for a bigger silver platter than that.”

Kepler’s eyes flashed as he twisted his head to look over his shoulder at the mage. “Silver platter? What does a plate have to do with this negotiation? Have you become dense?”

“Bah! It’s just an expression. Just tell the king I can take him to the Scorpion King’s island and show him the carnage.”

Kepler translated. “He said he’s willing to go.”

“Great. Then tell him to close his eyes.”

Once done, the mage teleported the group to the location of the Scorpion King’s body. When they appeared, they were next to the pedestal. George commanded the darkness to dissipate and then pointed to the giant arthropod’s remains.

The Minotaur roared, and then he walked up and out of the cave to take a look around the rest of the island. George was quick to direct Horace to the southern shore. He smiled. The Minotaur’s anger swelled as he surveyed the gruesome scene.

“Kep, ask Horace if he knows anything about the water mist mares.”

Again, Kepler did as instructed. “He says they’re powerful.”

“Then tell the king that the mares have been terminated ... thanks to Brandor. Tell him I can prove it.”

The jaguar translated. “Horace says, if Brandor can defeat the spirits, their army is too dominant. He wants to know what can be