Dashing Devil Omnibus 2: Books 4-6, page 51
“That’s good.” Daisy wore a little frown as a plate of fluffy pancakes floated over to Boyd. The fight wasn’t until late afternoon, and he would have a light lunch. Her expression firmed up a bit as she stated, “You aren’t allowed to die.”
“Awww, I knew you cared,” Silvie cooed, snuggling back under Boyd’s arm.
Laura and Raev both snickered.
“I do not!” the fairy-cook stated even more firmly. “He can go off and die for all I care.”
Daisy blinked then turned to Boyd, uncertainty in her eyes. “Wait, that’s not… It’s just… Connor will be watching, and I don’t want him to end up traumatized. He’ll be upset if you lose, but to see you die would just…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before blowing it all out at once. “You just have to be careful for his sake, not mine. Understood?” She was glaring at Boyd by the end of the tirade, her cheeks burning a bright, cherry-red.
“I understand completely.” Boyd swallowed the smirk that was pushing to quirk his lips up at the edges. After he glanced at his plate he said, “I promise to be extra careful—purely for Connor’s sake, of course.”
“Kuh-he!” Mindy’s giggle seemed to burst forth before Boyd even fully settled on the decision.
That cute little giggle caused the smirk to form that he’d tried to suppress as he continued, “And to avoid even upsetting him, I’ll do my best to kick Archangel’s butt.”
The red of her cheeks spread further as her iridescent eyes widened a smidge. “G-good! U-um, I have to get more… pepper. Yeah, pepper. I’ll be right back.” She fluttered off as quick as he had ever seen her wings carry her.
“He-he-he-he, awwww.” Silvie giggled after glancing to Boyd’s second plate.
He hadn’t asked for the second plate but planned to enjoy the big fluffy pancakes just the same. They were decorated with a circle of dots of whipped cream with little blue and red candies at the tops of the mounds. The words ‘kick butt’ were spelled out in broken pieces of bacon with syrup used to underline them.
They were her best yet.
The morning passed quickly as Boyd did a light—for him, at least—maintenance lift and then reviewed Kayla’s latest media reports. Shortly before his light lunch, Boyd walked back with Tinker into her lab. She all but vibrated with how excited she was to show him something.
“I’m still not sure I agree with you leaving behind your sword,” Tinker said. “You should at least take your spear. I worry that you won’t have anything to keep those flashy golden blades of his at bay.”
Boyd planned on going in with what amounted to an obsidian stick and his shield. The stick was incredibly overengineered for what it was—but it was a big stick, nonetheless.
“I’ll be fine, Tink,” Boyd rumbled, having slowed his pace so that she didn’t have to jog beside him. “The last thing I want is to accidentally kill the fool. Accident or not, that will just give my detractors exactly what they want.”
Tinker pursed her lips. “I was afraid you were going to say that, so this morning I worked on upgrading your bracers.”
Boyd recalled how she had integrated a silvery-white buckler to one bracer—the one that didn’t already contain his Field Display Unit. How might she have upgraded it?
“What was wrong with them that they needed an upgrade?” he wondered out loud.
“Nothing was wrong with them—except for the fact that they wouldn’t have stopped Archangel’s energy blades unless you get a lucky deflection,” Tinker frowned. “We both know that isn’t going to be good enough… and you shouldn’t have to spend all your energy using your Black Flames defensively.”
That would be a big help, Boyd realized. It would enable him to bat aside some of Archangel’s strikes and get in close enough to deliver a knockout blow. Tinker jerked him out of his thoughts by tugging on his hand, pulling him into her lab.
They were mounted on the Boyd-nequin that seemed to be a permanent fixture at the center of his little inventor’s lab. Tinker demonstrated the release mechanism as she slid off one of the bracers on the mannequin and tossed it to Boyd. He noted that it was the one with his embedded FDU.
“Now, put that on and then press your arm to the tasset on the left… good… then press the ‘shield’ button,” his petite love explained. “You’ll need to do it manually the first time, while you are wearing the control circlet, but the circlet should handle it automatically after that. You’ll have one for each arm, and it will know if you want one or both.”
“Wait,” Boyd said, holding up the bracer with its embedded FDU. “You mean I’ll have another two shields capable of withstanding multiple hits from Archangel’s energy blades?”
“Yes!” Tinker’s grin nearly split her face. “They won’t be very… just hold your arm up and press the button, ya big lug!” She ended just as brightly as she started.
Boyd did as he was told with a smirk, and then blinked, giving a slight start in surprise. It all happened in a flash, so he didn’t catch the details. It looked like a slot near the edge of the tasset opened up and spat out an obsidian plate on a thin but fast-moving mechanical arm.
The arm stuck the plate to the outside of his upgraded bracer through some means he wasn’t quick enough to see, and Boyd found himself with a buckler made of shining obsidian. He noted a reinforcing framework of woven metal under the dark material that seemed to absorb whatever light touched the glassy surface.
Tinker’s grin slipped a bit. “You’ll have to charge them manually, but they should be able to withstand most impacts that you would be strong enough to block. Of course, that’s just what the models and simulations predicted, because I didn’t have you here until now to test it.”
Boyd sensed a spike of anxiety across their Bond. He kneeled down and pulled Tink in close, wrapping them both in his wings until the anxiety faded. “I’m sure it will work, Tink. Everything you make for me is amazing.”
Her anxiety faded as Tinker clung to Boyd’s front, but then was replaced by a surprising amount of guilt. She pressed her doll-like face into his neck. “I… I just… I couldn’t live with myself if you get hurt because something I made to keep you safe didn’t work.”
“Shhh,” Boyd rumbled. “They are perfect. I’ll use these if for some reason I lose my shield. I’ll be safe because of the amazing stuff you’ve made for me.”
Tilting her head up, Boyd gently pressed his lips to hers. As the tender kiss deepened, Boyd felt that guilt and fear across their Bond turn to fierce determination. And for the first time, Boyd found himself letting Tinker take complete charge. Without breaking from their lip lock, she wriggled out of the pink romper she was in, pressing her soft curves into him.
He wasn’t surprised to find that she’d gone commando under the romper—it seemed someone had been hoping to make up for only being able to cuddle last night. That, or she remembered Laura’s teasing from breakfast the day before.
When Tinker did pull back from their kiss, that fierce determination translated into fierce passion. Pulling his shorts down, Tinker told Boyd exactly what she was going to do to him. And with a bemused smile he tried to keep to himself, Boyd enjoyed every minute of it. They had just enough time to clean up in the shower afterward—which Boyd ruined by making a mess of his littlest love all over again and having to clean each other up a second time.
And then it was time to go pick up their passengers from Glorith.
Chapter 52
It was time.
Boyd ran a final check of his gear as he centered himself in the Champion’s Way, just out of sight of the people gathered in the stadium. Silvie floated next to him, trying to stay focused through a vague sense of boredom. She had never taken his repeated statements about Archangel’s Power to heart, perfectly resolute in her certainty of Boyd’s victory.
The Champion’s Way was a plain, mostly concrete hall that led out to the field the dueling ground had been assembled on. It had earned the fancy name through virtue of connecting the room he had gotten ready in and the stadium at large. His team, plus Laura, had joined him in the locker room before moving to their positions. Silvie fawned over him for a bit after the others left them, providing cheery encouragement to bring their angel home.
Mindy, Tinker, and Laura had joined Daisy and Connor’s group in the box while Raev found a good spot near the front of the crowd on the ‘Devil Supporter’ side.
Well, Mindy was with Boyd, too, just not physically. He felt her relaxing on the bed of the wood slat room that had once contained his Gestalt. On their Bond, he sensed a sense of awed contentment as she scanned the thousands of gathered people without hearing a single one of their thoughts from the comfort of a plush chair in the box.
He sensed a moment of curiosity followed by amusement. Mindy must have picked up on his interest, because she explained it to him.
‘This woman,’ Boyd received a mental image of a pretty woman wearing a very low-cut top with ‘Dashing Devil’ scrawled across her chest in crimson, ‘is very much looking forward to seeing you in the flesh.’
‘Oooh… is she Powered?’ Silvie asked, evidently included in the conversation.
‘If she is, she hasn’t thought about her Power while I was listening,’ Mindy replied. ‘Oh, I think it’s time.’
On cue, the announcer’s energetic baritone sounded over the stadium’s sound system. It was muted in the hallway, but boomed throughout the massive stadium.
“Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, welcome to the Eden Dome… the hallowed ground where legends are made!”
Boyd’s understanding was that the local football team that typically made use of the stadium did alright, but calling them legends was something of a stretch. A roaring cheer went through the stands anyway, and the announcer waited for it to die down before continuing.
“Tonight, under these brilliant lights, we are about to witness an epic duel that will be etched in the annals of Hero history. It’s the clash of the century, the showdown of the millennium—Archangel versus Dashing Devil!”
The crowd erupted into cheers again, the sound cascading down the hall to where Boyd stood.
“Our first hero, ladies and gentlemen, needs no introduction, but I’ll give him one anyway because it’s just too impressive to skip! The savior of New Eden, the guardian of the innocent, I give you the celestial warrior, the vanquisher of darkness… Archangel!”
Boyd caught a glimpse of Archangel as he flew out of the hall on the opposite side of the stadium, six golden sword wings extended to fly a lap. A full minute of a rock song played while he flew around the stadium, receiving cheers on one side and jeers on the other. He’d obviously chosen his intro song to match the occasion.
It was about being there to fight, or more specifically to rumble, having danger on his side, and was very focused on it being down to just the two of them. The line about being here to make the devil cry right near the beginning really set the tone. Boyd was almost impressed by his enemy’s choice of hype music.
He had decided to go a different way with his intro.
“What an entrance, ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer boomed after the song faded and Boyd saw Archangel take a position on the upraised stone platform they would fight on, waving to the side that hadn’t been bought out by Boyd’s supporters. “You can tell New Eden’s savior is ready and eager to fight, I’d sure hate to be his opponent.”
“Speaking of, let’s bring out the challenger, the recently introduced Dashing Devil,” the announcer stated plainly, only adding the bare minimum of excitement to his tone.
Boyd chuckled at the discrepancy. The announcer couldn’t even call the guy who killed the Last Dragon and saved his city a Hero. He didn’t need him anyway.
‘This is where I leave you, I’ll be with Laura. Do well, my little shit.’ Mindy spoke into his mind.
Her presence would count as interference and could disqualify him if detected.
A second later, ‘Devil supporters, that’s our cue, with me now… De-vil! De-vil! De-vil!’
The voices on his side of the stadium rose along with Mindy’s voice in his mind. She kept it going, using her mental directions to unify any who wished to cheer for him. Her ability to speak into their minds allowed her to cut over the building volume of all those voices calling his name in unison.
Boyd strode forward into the light, shimmering shield on his arm with his obsidian stick-sword in hand. It was the same length and weight as his sword, but instead of a blade it was simply an octagon-shaped bar made of shining obsidian. He raised it up over his head in a salute to his side of the stadium and they redoubled their efforts in response to his big grin.
Silvie floated out beside him grinning and waving with both arms.
“De-vil! De-vil! De-vil!”
The syllables rolled over Boyd as he crossed to the cut stone platform, growing in power and force as the crowd got into it. There was something special about moments like that—being one of thousands in a crowd, but feeling part of a whole through shared action. Under Mindy’s guidance, that sense of unity was amplified.
Boyd smirked at a glaring Archangel as he reached the top of the stairs, leaving Silvie off to the side of the stairs in the Second’s position. The Blonde Buffoon’s right eye twitched each time the syllables of Boyd’s Hero name rolled over him like a wave.
By the time he reached his starting position, ten yards from the center and twenty from the faux-angel, Boyd could feel the combined voices of his supporters thumping deep in his chest.
“DE-VIL! DE-VIL! DE-VIL!”
He let his smirk shift to a grin for just a moment before turning towards his supporters and pulling in a deep, filling breath. He prepared himself to give them what they wanted. He had been trained to give his supporters what they wanted, if he planned to keep them.
Boyd had miscalculated when he’d chosen to keep his roar of victory to a short shout after slaying the Last Dragon. He thought that his roars would be a detractor, something he should try to limit so as not to disquiet those he wished to give hope. It turned out they liked his roar, many commenting that the one he let out after Omega Ray was cooler—and, given the nature of his fan base, sexier.
He didn’t quite go all out, putting about eighty percent into it by allowing his shoulders and head fall back just a little and letting his roar sing out. It was enough to overpower the voices that called out to him, rolling back over them as they yelled or screamed his name. He didn’t put any anger or challenge into it, nor was it a victory call. He replied with raw sound to acknowledge their support.
Their cohesion broke, but that was intended. Instead, many of them, mostly the men who took up about a third of the seats, roared back at him with all their might. The women who didn’t join the men screamed with enough force that he was sure they would regret it tomorrow.
Boyd’s roar came to a satisfying close and he grinned at the crowd who screamed or panted so they could return to screaming a moment later. He waited for it to die down a little, even his big lungs had their limits after all, before holding his obsidian-bar aloft in another salute.
“That felt good, didn’t it?!” He roared over the crowd once he could be heard over them. The volume re-doubled as they shouted their agreement.
Once he could be heard he called out again, “Then just wait until the one that comes after!”
The screams, yells, roars, and whistles tripled in volume, reaching an all-time high as he turned a much more aggressive grin on Archangel. The man was struggling to hide his rage behind an already crumbling mask. Boyd held the man’s glare, staring down someone who wanted to kill him. It felt comfortable, he’d seen similar looks in the eyes of many opponents in the past, though such hateful glares normally came later in a fight.
Boyd heard the commentator trying to be heard over the roaring masses, but his multiple loudspeakers were unable to surpass what Mindy’s assistance had stoked and Boyd had set ablaze within his fans. That was how you got an audience worked up—you made them part of it. Then, you had the reporter you’d befriended schedule a segment on sore throat remedies for the next morning’s newscast.
Eventually, the commentator was able to make himself heard as Boyd’s supporters ran out of steam—or, more accurately, ran out of breath.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may we have your attention, please? Let’s quiet down so we can get to the real action.”
There were some holdouts, but the din died down in another couple of moments.
“Thank you for your cooperation.” The announcer came back over the speakers. “Tonight’s duel will be fought under the rules established under the Hero’s Code. Combatants are permitted to use any equipment they carry into the dueling grounds or may make us of their Power and abilities at their discretion. If a spectator is harmed, the responsible combatant that launched the attack will be immediately disqualified. Other than that, there are no rules.”
“Don’t worry about that second rule folks, now that the combatants have taken the field we’ll be activating… Oh, I’m sorry—we have already activated a transparent forcefield that encompasses the combat zone. Eden Dome was updated with shielding that can withstand even S-Ranked attacks, just for tonight. Everyone is perfectly safe. Now, with the formalities out of the way, let’s get started!”
Boyd shifted into his ready stance with his shield up in a loose, reactionary guard while his sword was in a similar low guard, prepared to hook or swing in whichever direction he needed it. His wings and tail were tucked in tight to his center mass, but he kept his muscles loose and ready to react.
Archangel shifted into a ready stance of his own, although it was far from practical. His feet were planted together, arms crossed tight over his feather-inscribed golden breastplate. A sneer appeared on his face as he continued to glare at Boyd. An energy sword filled with roiling flames appeared in each hand, framing his face, as his six golden-bladed wings flexed behind him.
