“It was not your fault they had already fallen. You have a new foe. Why not ride out to meet him with the same bravery?”
“When I rode south, north, east, and west, I risked only my own life. I was naive enough to have confidence that I would find a way to triumph. But now I am being asked to risk the fate of all Selona on my untested abilities. My people have unrealistic faith in me.”
Lilianna hugged her husband. “This is no different from your previous escapades. The only differences are the audience and your fears regarding the consequences. You still have a willing hand and strength to bear a sword.”
“I do believe I would have found a way,” Konrad said.
“Don’t let your courage fail when it is most needed. Go forward now, in the same spirit as you went forth to rescue the kingdom and win renown, remembering that when a hero is needed, any chance is better than none.”
King Konrad gave a nod, resolution in his gaze. “I will prepare.”
A response traveled to the Dragon, and the next day the Legender emerged from his castle and rode to the chosen battlefield with a small entourage. Those who watched the procession noted the king’s lack of heavy arms and armor. Instead he wore traveling clothes and carried a short sword. The phoenix feather gleamed in his hat, the yeti fang hung from his neck on a cord, the vampire stake and the gorgon’s quill were holstered on his belt.
Some whispered he had gone mad, approaching such an important duel so underequipped. Others accused him of overconfidence. A few who were close to him suspected he was playing to his strengths—since Konrad had little formal training in armed combat, and little experience with heavy arms and armor, they reasoned he was staying with what he knew.
Some citizens expressed outrage. After all, the Legender was the last line of defense against a merciless horde. What right had he to enter the fight with no armor? If he wanted mobility, he could at least have worn leather armor, carried a light shield. And why not bring a sword substantial enough to cause real harm?
At the appointed hour, the Legender found the Dragon awaiting him on the field of battle, standing alone, his horde watching from a distance. Kula Bakar was an enormous man, both tall and broad. He wore a great helmet with a cage hiding his face, and he was armored to withstand a landslide. After beholding the size of his sword, it became easy to believe the stories of him chopping a horse in half with a single stroke.
Leaving his attendants behind, King Konrad rode out to meet his opponent. Those near him maintain that Konrad managed to approach with a smile.
“What stratagem is this?” the Dragon called to the Legender. “Do you expect me to strip off my armor and fight you with lesser weapons? This is single combat for the right to sack your kingdom, and I will fight as I have always fought—fully prepared.”
“I have everything I need to defeat you,” the Legender replied, dismounting from his horse.
“If you lack proper armaments, I will outfit you myself,” the Dragon offered.
“I had plenty of weapons and armor at my disposal,” the Legender said. “I have brought all I require.”
“Is this an insult?” the Dragon asked. “Perhaps you hope to protect your legacy by claiming the contest was unfair? Excuses will not spare your kingdom.”
“The insult is your invasion,” the Legender said. “I am here to stop you, unless you wish to withdraw.”
“Very well,” the Dragon said. “Meet your fate as you see fit.”
Short sword in hand, King Konrad approached Kula Bakar. The Legender was considered taller than average, but his face was level with the Dragon’s mighty chest. Kula Bakar was massive across all dimensions—tall, broad, and thick. The Legender looked like a child confronting an ogre.
“Announce the start of combat at your leisure,” the Dragon announced.
“Begin,” the Legender said without pause.
Raising his shield and hefting his sword, the Dragon began to circle his quarry. Some who knew his fighting style commented later that it was an uncharacteristically wary approach, perhaps an adjustment to the mystifying preparations of his opponent in anticipation of some trick or trap.
The mobility of the Legender proved valuable as he dodged several attacks. The first time their swords clashed, the Legender lost hold of his blade. The Dragon paused to let him retrieve it, then knocked it from his grasp two more times. After the third drop, the Dragon rushed his opponent. The Legender ducked and whirled, feinted and leapt, avoiding many swipes and thrusts, some by a close margin, until he stumbled and the Dragon planted his sword in his chest.
Pinned to the ground, the Legender twitched a few times, legs spasming, then grew still. Panting, the Dragon withdrew his sword and raised it high. He ended all his fights by decapitation, and this one would be no exception.
But the Dragon staggered back when the Legender was spontaneously engulfed in flame. Confused bystanders raised their hands to shield their eyes from the startling blaze. Out of the intense conflagration emerged King Konrad, his shirt bloody but unburned, his body whole.
“What sorcery is this?” the Dragon asked.
The fire behind the Legender vanished as quickly as it had appeared. With an inhuman roar, the Legender took the gorgon’s quill from his belt and stuck it through a gap in the armor near the Dragon’s waist.
After the prick, Kula Bakar went rigid, making no motion to dodge or protect himself as the Legender pulled out the yeti’s fang and used it to punch a hole in the Dragon’s breastplate. Then Konrad plunged the vampire’s stake through the hole, deep into the Dragon’s chest. The Legender stepped back, and the Dragon remained on his feet for a prolonged moment.
The armor of the Dragon made his fall clangorous on the silent battlefield. Ignoring the enemy horde, the Legender withdrew the quill and the stake, returned
