P. Power - Knight of the Realm

“Now, if no one’s going to try to kill me for a few minutes I need to drop my shield if I'm going to do anything about this assholes foot before you all leave. The military I mean. If they're going to attack me, they obviously aren't welcome here anymore.” That made sense, didn't it? Tor decided it did and knelt by the jerk that had tried to attack him. Mad as he was, a kick to the stomach wasn't really worth a lost foot as a lesson.

It took about an hour to really fix the foot back into place, but the initial repair got managed in less than ten minutes, fast enough that the tissue hadn't died yet at least. That was good, because Tor was pretty sure that if the flesh died, the foot was gone forever. That just felt right. When the work was done the man got up and started walking as if nothing had happened. He went gingerly at first, and was pale from blood loss and shock, but didn't seem to be in pain. Good, he could walk out on his own then.

Before anyone else could say anything Tor looked at the military men arrayed around him in their dark uniforms. He pointed.

“Get out. Get your crap and get out of my home now. You have ten minutes. Don't take anything that isn't yours and get out. Now.” No one moved. Tor got to his feet and pointed again. “Now!”

He didn't wait for anyone to do anything, covered in blood from working on the man’s foot he stalked towards his hut. If they thought he was going to just let them stay now, they were going to be surprised. Though they really shouldn't be. He was a builder after all.

Walking down into his hut, the single room fifty by fifty foot dwelling he'd made for himself his first day here, he moved to his box of amulets and made sure he was better armed. Flying rig, Not-flyer, force lances, two air chokes and going to his bed he dug an explosive out of the chest he had under his bed. No one knew these were there, but he had a hundred of them. They were special, designed to kill, but not destroy the whole world or anything like that. No, that weapon he kept on a twine string, which hung around his neck. It was too powerful to leave lying around. Really he should destroy it, he just hadn't gotten to it yet. Things kept coming up.

Walking outside he noticed that no one had started packing. In fact the military men all seemed to be lined up in front of his house. With weapons. So not even bothering to try and apologize?

Jerks.

He blinked at them, arrayed there the hot white sun. At least some of them seemed to recognize him this time. There were a lot more of them now, nearly five hundred? What the hell? He'd only been gone for a little under a month. How had this happened? There had only been about three hundred before. It didn't matter. Not now. They were just about to leave anyway.

Tor pointed at them with a force lance.

“Go! Get out now.” No one budged.

“You can't order us off a military base! You're not even in the military you sawed off psycho!” One of the men near the back yelled. Tor understood that the guy wasn't anyone in charge, but it was just about the wrong thing to say, wasn't it? He was sawed off? How would they look without any legs, he wondered? Instead, he responded, sounding a lot more relaxed and calm than he felt. So basically he came off as a half insane gibbering fool, even to his own ears.

“True. And if this was a military base, there'd be a problem, but it isn't. It's my home, not a base at all. Now go. Get out.” No one moved. Tor sighed. “Right, then.”

Sweeping the force lance fast he knocked down the first three rows on the right hand side, then laid into them for real. Didn't they get the point? It wasn't that deep or anything, they were being evicted and needed to leave. Seeing their fellows being knocked down and as often as not, out, those with weapons opened fire. Nothing happened to him, but his house got hit a lot. He could hear it, even though nothing they had did much to it at all. Focus stone was tough. Tor kept sweeping their lines, making a point to hit anyone coming his way or holding a weapon.

True, he could just switch weapons and kill them all, but most of them were just guys that made furniture, plates and cisterns for water. They hadn't wronged him, not personally. They had to go, because their fellows had messed up and they worked for the King, but death seemed a little harsh just for that. Still, he had a second force lance, one way better than what they had. He took out most of them then, holding one in each hand, the little copper tubes glinting a bit and feeling smooth to his fingers. His weapons moving back and forth as fast as he could move his arms. This worked pretty well until someone flew into him at speed.

His shield protected him, but Tor was ripped off his feet, carrying part of the ground with him, stuck in the shield itself, as a large man in black hit him full force, actually flying, so about three hundred and fifty miles per hour. He had a shield too, since Tor had kind of insisted that no one in the military fly without one. It was to keep them safe, of course.

Turned out to be a brilliant plan now, didn't it?

Tor didn't wait to hit the ground, tapping the back of his left hand with his right as he tumbled through the air. The tricky part was waiting as he fell, until he knew his hand was being raised upward. If he got it wrong he'd power dive into the ground. He rose. It wasn't really upwards, off at an angle instead, but close enough to let him orient himself without dying. The mound of dirt dropped away after a few seconds, the field letting it go as soon as his movement slowed.

Six people, all men, were flying with him, three rushed in as soon as he stabilized and hovered, his body upright for a moment. Tor swept his force lance over them, but nothing happened. So they had good shields? Probably ones he'd made. The newest in the line, that stopped force lances, but let you fly. Even the explosives he had wouldn't do anything to them, he didn't think. Except for the big one, but that would just kill. He'd have to out fly them then.

That was harder to do than it sounded. Whoever these guys were, obviously not regular soldiers, they were good. They worked as a team and after about four minutes managed to force Tor into the ground. That hurt, but not as much as it would have without his shield.

Screw that. They weren't forcing him out of his home. That was a mistake, because it was his. Tor tapped his Not-flyer and rose into the air, if only four inches. In the air those men were faster of course, but they wouldn't be able to do much to him if he stayed among the buildings, he didn't think. He kept blasting the men on the ground and screaming at them to leave as the flying men hovered jockeying for position. No one had even started to head towards the front gate yet.

OK.

Tor took a big breath and moved towards the front. He dug into his inner pants pocket and got one of the explosives out, then, without so much as hesitating, he blasted the right hand side of the front wall. It made a deafening roar and made the wall disappear into dust and pebbles. With a single slow sweeping motion from right to left he destroyed the front half in less than eleven seconds. Everyone froze.

“I said leave. What part of that don't you get? Do it now, or I start killing people. I am done playing games with you.” It was loud, but a growl for all that.

No one moved for a second, but then one man, the captain that had only one shoe now, but two feet, held up his hands and told everyone to move out. Tor moved so that his back was to the front wall of his hut, just under the eaves, so that the flyers couldn't catch him from behind easily. They were still hovering over him, too high up to hear him tell them to leave. He'd have to do something else about them. It took nearly an hour for them to all leave, or at least get out the gate. Some of them tried to take the transports, but Tor only let them have half of them. He personally owned half, he told them all clearly. Major Godfrey owned the other half. Since it was all they were getting they could deal with him for them if they wanted. Tor wasn't making them anymore. Not for the military. Not after the way they'd attacked him in his own home.