(KOTG) Ch 10: Meeting The Intruders, Insults That Lead To Anger!

I barely had time to take a breath before Kyvareth launched herself into the canyon, her body rocketing through the air like a missile. Lysera was right beside us, the two of them falling with terrifying speed, the wind screaming past my ears.

"OH, COME ON!" I yelled, gripping Kyvareth's hair like my life depended on it. (Which, honestly, it did.)

Then, with an earth-shattering impact, they landed.

The force of their descent sent shockwaves tearing through the canyon, the ground beneath them cracking apart like fragile glass. Boulders tumbled from the cliffs, dust clouds exploded into the air, and somewhere far, far in the distance, I was pretty sure an avalanche had just been triggered.

And me? I almost died.

The moment we hit the ground, I was launched from Kyvareth's shoulder, tumbling through the air like a ragdoll—until a massive hand caught me mid-fall.

Kyvareth chuckled, carefully placing me back where I belonged. "Careful, your majesty," she said with a knowing smile.

I blinked up at her, heart still hammering in my chest. "Uh, thanks." I mumbled, gripping onto her hair even tighter.

She only grinned before turning forward, and without hesitation, she and Lysera took off running.

I was not built for this.

Kyvareth's movements, though much slower than the others, still felt like I was riding on top of a bullet train. The rocky terrain blurred past us as she maneuvered effortlessly through the canyon, her footsteps sending tremors through the earth. Lysera led the way, her powerful strides making her seem more like a force of nature than a person.

After what felt like only seconds, they came to an abrupt halt. I barely had time to catch my breath before I saw them.

The soldiers.

At first, I only noticed our warriors, their towering figures standing like living fortresses. But then my eyes drifted downward—and I saw them.

At the feet of the giantesses stood a much smaller group of soldiers, men clad in dark armor, their weapons clenched tightly in their hands. They were tiny compared to the warriors of Vorshalda, barely reaching their shins, yet they stood their ground.

Though, to be fair, most of them looked absolutely terrified.

"So this is... the people belonging to Vytharion," I muttered, looking down at the men who now found themselves quite literally beneath our feet.

They were trying to look brave, I could tell, but it was hard to be intimidating when you were staring up at an army of skyscraper-sized women who could crush you with a single step.

Lysera moved first, stepping forward and crouching down so she loomed directly over them. The sheer size difference was absurd. She looked like a goddess peering down at mere mortals.

Her voice, deep and unwavering, echoed through the canyon. "You have one choice," she said. "Leave, or die."

There was a tense silence. Some of the soldiers swallowed nervously, shifting on their feet. Others seemed frozen in place, as if trying to decide whether running would just make them easier targets.

And then, one of them stepped forward.

Unlike the others, this man's armor was more ornate, his stance more confident. I guessed he was their leader.

He straightened his back, cleared his throat, and, in a voice that tried (and failed) to sound fearless, declared: "His Majesty, the King of Vytharion, demands your surrender."

Silence.

Then—Lysera laughed.

It was not a kind laugh. It was sharp, edged with amusement and cruelty, the kind of laugh that made it very clear just how little she thought of his demand.

She took a step back, folding her arms across her chest. "Surrender?" she mused, tilting her head. Then, she gestured toward me with a smirk. "I think you're confused. We already have a king."

She turned her gaze toward Kyvareth.

Kyvareth, ever dramatic, lifted her hand—raising me into the air for all to see.

I stared down at the much smaller men below me. They stared up at me.

No one spoke.

Finally, I cleared my throat.

"Uh... hi."

If there was an award for the least inspiring introduction of all time, I had just won it.

The man in the fancy armor suddenly started laughing.

Not just a chuckle. Not even a smug little snort.

No, this was a full-on, throw your head back and cackle like an idiot kind of laugh.

"That's your king?" he said, between wheezing breaths. "He looks like a young boy who's just gotten out of his diapers!"

I blinked.

Okay, rude.

I was about to say something, maybe throw in a clever insult about his very questionable helmet choice, but I didn't even get the chance—because Lysera moved first.

"DO NOT TALK TO OUR KING LIKE THAT!!!"

Her voice exploded through the canyon, rattling the rocks, sending dust cascading from the cliffs.

I flinched. The Vytharion soldiers flinched. Pretty sure even the ground flinched.

I turned my head slowly, staring at Lysera in shock.

And then I realized... it wasn't just her.

Every single one of the giantesses was glaring at this guy like he'd just insulted their entire bloodline.

And let me tell you—there's something deeply terrifying about being surrounded by dozens of massive, muscle-bound women, all looking like they're one insult away from curb-stomping you into oblivion.

I hesitantly glanced up at Kyvareth.

Yeah. She was pissed.

Her normally cool, composed expression was gone, replaced by pure rage. Her jaw was clenched so tightly I thought she might crack her own teeth, and I could actually see veins bulging from her forehead.

All... because some old guy insulted me.

Huh.

The man in fancy armor must've realized he messed up, because his laughter died in his throat. He shifted uncomfortably, swallowing hard as he took in the murder-stares being directed at him.

Still, he straightened his shoulders, forcing his voice to stay firm.

"You may mock us now," he said, "but Vytharion has created a weapon. A weapon that can finally pierce your invulnerable skin."

A dramatic pause.

"If you do not surrender to the true king..." he continued, "we will use it here."

Silence.

I looked around at the giantesses.

Yeah, that threat did not have the effect he was hoping for.

If anything... they looked even angrier.

Lysera's eye twitched as she slowly bent over, leaning in so close that the man was now dwarfed by her looming figure.

"This is your last chance," she said, her voice dangerously low. "Leave. Our. Lands."

The man hesitated. He had to know this was a bad idea. He had to realize that pissing off a bunch of warrior giantesses was not going to end well.

And yet.

"Men, stand your ground!" he ordered.

The Vytharion soldiers stiffened. For a moment, it seemed like they might flee.

But then, slowly, they raised their weapons.

I sighed. "Oh, boy..."

Lysera closed her eyes for a second, taking a slow breath. Then—

"You give me no choice," she murmured.

And then, she roared.

"WARRIORS OF VORSHALDA, PREPARE TO PROTECT YOUR HOME!"

A deafening battle cry erupted from the giantesses.

"WE'RE PREPARED!!!"

The ground shook with their voices, their sheer energy making the very air vibrate.

I, meanwhile, was still on Kyvareth's shoulder, watching this escalate at record speed.

"This is fine," I muttered to myself. "This is totally fine."