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Barbarian's Path To Multiversal Domination Chapter 3: Unstoppable Force
🕑 Added 2024-02-18 00:52:50 +0000 UTC"You're going to fight without armour?" Rhaena Targaryen raised an eyebrow.
"Armour is for pussies." Dennis remarked. "Also... I don't like how it squeezes my dick and balls. I like having ventilation down there."
"... I don't believe I asked for the details."
"You got them anyway." Dennis shrugged. "What will you do about it, cry to your brother-husband?"
"No... I will watch you get skewered and beaten by the Poor Fellows from atop the battlements."
"Cool." Dennis nodded, looking directly at her. "It's always nice to have people praying for your success. But you should remember... I'm not fighting for you or Eggon."
"Aegon."
"Same shit." Dennis rolled his eyes. "The truth is, there's no point in fighting for the winning side... it's too fucking easy. Since you guys are surrounded by thousands of homeless people, we have a common enemy. But... if you start getting the wrong idea and think I'm some kind of dog you can disrespect... then you're in for a big surprise."
Dennis raised one of his axes, pointing it at her. She stared at him, raising an eyebrow. Her lively lilac eyes did not shy away.
"You're not scared of me..." Dennis grinned slightly, lowering his axe. "I like that."
"... What are you?"
"Just a guy who lives... and dies to fight."
Dennis left the armoury, half-naked with his chest exposed. He wore simple, loose, makeshift shorts, which he made by ripping a pair of pants. The sheer aura he possessed made the previously insignificant 'Dick' look like a demonic warrior. His hair had grown darker, and his eyes began to burn with a raging flame. He had grown taller, and his muscles became more defined.
Slowly but surely, 'Dick' began to look like the actual Dennis.
He took the strongest horse, who so happened to have the wildest temper. He tried to ride it, but the horse forced him off... dropping Dennis to the ground.
"Dumbass horse..." Dennis cursed. "If you don't calm the fuck down, I'm going to eat your ass for dinner."
"..." The horse paused, blinking at him.
"That's right." Dennis chuckled. "Never tried horsemeat, but who knows? I might get a taste for it. I might enjoy it so much that I'll eat your whole family."
Even though it could not understand his words, the horse sensed something... danger... that this man... Dennis the Menace... was not to be trifled with.
"... Perhaps you should try another horse-"
"Nah, I think this one understands me."
The next time he got on top of the horse, it didn't deny him. Even though he had no idea how to ride a horse beforehand, he found it self-explanatory when he got around to it.
"I wish you the best of luck, my champion." Aegon nodded as he watched Dennis prepare to ride out into the night. "May you emerge triumphant over my enemies."
Dennis didn't say anything, simply grinning.
"Open the gate."
The guards slipped open the gate, giving Dennis enough space to ride out before the Poor Fellows could swarm the gates. Dennis rode through the lines of men, slashing through them with his twin axes and trampling the rest as he rode to freedom.
He managed to break free from the encirclement, going to where they were least concentrated. Given that it was night, there was far less of a force to resist him right away. He managed to ride ahead, past the camp and towards the sea.
When he reached the coastline, he saw that not all that many had followed him. He slaughtered the dozen or so that did before riding back to their camp. He proceeded to relentlessly harass the Poor Fellows, forcing them to follow him to the coastline en masse.
By then, he had already killed half a hundred... and they all wanted him dead. Hundreds followed him to the coastline. He let go of his horse and approached them on foot.
"Slay this fiend in the name of the Seven!"
"That's right... come to Dennis." He grinned, brandishing his axes against each other. "Don't be scared, I'm just one guy."
"Kill his horse as well! Don't let him escape!"
"... What?" Dennis raised an eyebrow, watching as a detachment of spearmen charged his horse. "Nah, that's my boy... I'm the guy you're meant to be fighting."
Dennis began to wildly slash through their formation, cleaving through two to three men with each swing. Even so, he was not entirely unstoppable. They surrounded him from all sides and restricted his movement. Before long, he had taken several stabs to his unarmoured chest and was bleeding profusely.
He cut through several more, dropping himself into the water. It nourished his wounds and gave him strength... to which he continued to fight - cutting through men's legs and rendering them cripples as he lay on the ground.
He was practically break-dancing... with axes and a lot of crowd involvement. Even though the waves crashing onto his body were distracting, they also healed him.
"Is he... immortal?"
"His wounds... they're recovering!"
"He can't die!"
"He is the devil... the devil!"
"We're all going to die!"
The morale of the Poor Fellows would begin to collapse, as any poorly trained and armed force would when faced with such a predicament.
He continued cutting through them, eventually returning to his feet to kill even more. After shredding a hundred and fifty men, the rest ran away to the camp.
Dennis took a deep breath, looking around at the corpses on the coastline... the small river of blood flowing down... and his dead horse. He was mainly pissed about the dead horse. Though their companionship was short, he felt as if they had begun to build a solid bond of understanding.
"Homeless cunts... killing my fucking horse." He frowned, chopping one crawling man's head right off. "They're not going to just run and get away with this shit."
Dennis proceeded to walk back to their camp on a mission... to slaughter them all.
Every last one of them.
Slash. Slash. Slash.
Screams echoed in the night outside of Crakehall's walls. The rest of the Poor Fellows had awakened from their slumber and rallied their numbers. All five thousand raised their arms against Dennis... and all of them would come to know true fear.
With each kill, the blood flow grew, and the more blood spread... the more Dennis healed and recovered his strength. He kept killing... more... more... and more.
Slash, slash, slash, slash, slash....
"... Remarkable." Aegon could not believe his eyes as he saw the faint shadow of a single man slaughtering men by the hundred. "He has grown even stronger since his battle with the garrison. Maybe we'll be free to return to the capital safely, after all."
Rhaena observed without saying a word, being both shocked and mesmerised by the sight. Surely a warrior so powerful... had never existed before? This thing, whatever it was... was one of a kind.
The more wounds he took, the more thrilled Dennis was... and this absolutely terrified most of the Poor Fellows. He was an unstoppable force of nature that only grew from pain. The more they surrounded him, the more madly he fought. The more they harmed him, the stronger he grew.
This fighting lasted an entire hour... where Dennis had singlehandedly killed over a thousand of them.
They began to realise how hopeless their efforts were.
"He... can't be killed..."
"Run... save yourselves!"
In the end, Dennis stood alone - covered with blood from head to toe. He looked more like a demon than a man, standing on a hill of corpses with both of his axes lowered. His heart continued to beat with bloodlust... but all his enemies had run away.
His lips curled into a mad smile as he looked up at the sky.
'So this... is what it means to be alive.'
"My champion!" Aegon clapped from atop the battlements. "You have trampled on the Poor Fellows singlehandedly... as I had absolute faith you would! Please, return to the keep and enjoy a feast fit for a mighty warrior such as yourself, Dennis of House Mertvago!"
"... I am hungry." Dennis looked down, nodding. He turned away and started walking.
"That's... the wrong way." Aegon blinked.
Dennis kept walking, all the way to the coastline. He grabbed his horse and carried it all the way to the keep. By the end, he was sweating profusely due to its sheer weight... but he managed.
"My horse," Dennis remarked, looking dead serious. "Give it a nice funeral in this castle."
"... Certainly."
Aegon would've liked to question why the fuck a horse needed a fancy funeral... but when it came to Dennis, he preferred not to. Deep down, he felt a sense of terror for his own 'Champion'. One wrong word, and he could hack him to bits in a moment's notice.
"Good." Dennis nodded. "He was a warrior, this one... and all warriors deserve respect."
"Indeed." Aegon nodded, acting like he knew exactly what Dennis was talking about. "I couldn't agree more."
...
"HUM... HUM... HUM!" Dennis proceeded to munch on half the dinner table singlehandedly and drink enough for a dozen men, leading to the nobles having to suppress their disgust at his barbaric nature. "This food... so bland."
"You must forgive me, mighty Dennis." Lord Bob sighed, shaking his head. "There are not many sauces and spices available in Crakehall at this moment."
"Dolboyobs everywhere..." Dennis slammed the table. "My chicken and chips bossman can cook better than you, and he gets paid minimum fucking wage."
"Chicken and chips bossman?" Lord Bob blinked. "Forgive me but I have no knowledge of this man-"
"Of course you don't, Lord Bob the Builder." Dennis sighed, getting up. He glanced to the side at someone who had been staring at him. "What the fuck are you looking at?"
"Nothing... Sir... I mean, Mighty Dennis." Rob, Bob's son and heir, hesitated. "Even though the food may be bland, I hope it fills your stomach and gives you strength."
"I don't need you to bend over and lick my balls." Dennis scoffed, turning away. "I have a girlfriend for that."
"..."
"I have selected out the finest guest chamber for you." Lord Bob stood up, joining Dennis. "Also, I'd like you to meet my youngest daughter-"
"Fuck your daughter." Dennis raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to find a place I like and sleep in it. If you don't like that, you can fight me for it."
"I... dare not."
"Alright then."
Dennis just so happened to take Lord Bob's bedchamber, resting soundly in his large bed. Soundly... indeed. His snores were loud enough to keep half the castle awake.
Meanwhile, in Targaryen guest chamber...
"... Not today." Rhaena stopped Aegon, who was very much keen on undressing her.
"Don't be a joykill, big sister..." Aegon tried once more.
"I said not today, Aegon."
"What's wrong?" He raised an eyebrow. "Is it that demon that frightens you?"
"... You don't mean to keep him by your side, do you? He is a wild, untameable creature who will never accept a master."
"Of course, I knew that... but he served his use." Aegon grinned slightly. "You worry too much."
"What did you do?" She blinked.
"Poisoned both his drink and food." Aegon chuckled. "He should be choking to death by now from every poison in Crakehall."
"..."
"BLYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!"
A roar that could only belong to a primordial dragon sounded across Crakehall, shaking its very foundations. Aegon began to sweat, recognising who it belonged to.
"You fool..." Rhaena frowned.
"Surely not even he could endure so much poison..." Aegon doubted his own doubt. "Even so, he is a foolish beast. He couldn't possibly pit the blame on me, who gave him a second chance at life."
"No... he isn't." Rhaena shook her head. "We have to leave, at once."
"As I said... you worry too much."
"I'LL FUCKING KILL EVERYONE! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SHITHEADS FEED ME? WHY AM I SHITTING A WATERFALL!?"
"Still worrying too much?" Rhaena stood up.
"..."
Aegon didn't want to outright admit that he was wrong, standing up. The two slipped through the hall, got horses and rode out under the night. Meanwhile, Dennis started killing everything in sight.
This time... he finished the job with the garrison despite being weakened by poison and left the entire castle trembling in his wake. It had completely surrendered to him - but there was no sign of Prince Aegon or Rhaena.
"Those silver fuckers ran away..." Dennis frowned slightly. "Lord Bob."
"Yes...?" He trembled.
"Aren't they dickheads? I save their asses, and they just leave me here without even saying goodbye. Not even a thank you card or anything."
"Indeed... they seem ungrateful." Lord Bob nodded nervously.
"By the way, do people always have diarrhoea and vomit everywhere when they eat your shit food?"
"... Not to my knowledge, no. It isn't a common thing at all."
"Thought so." Dennis turned to him. "You got a map of this area?"
"Of course."
Dennis got ready for a trip to King's Landing, where he intended to give the royal family a piece of his fist. He refused to take a new horse and just ran the entire way. Even though he was only running... his combination of speed and stamina were ridiculous.
It took months... but he was one determined motherfucker. Along the way, he fought bandits, hunted animals, cooked his own food, attacked villagers, took their shit and made them cook for him. He had often been offered women - to which he declined each time. Dennis was many things... but a cheater was not one of them.
By the time he reached King's Landing and completed his version of Tour De Westeros, he looked like fucking Hercules.
He observed the growing city, which was more of a town currently. The thing that caught his eye was the black dragon in the skies, which was like a dark shadow that eclipsed the sun's light. It was Balerion the Black Dread... and Dennis was most definitely eyeing it.
What was the first thing that came to his mind upon the sight of such a majestic creature, might you ask?
Well... fighting it, of course!
