Amazon Apocalypse 4 [Deleted Chapter]: Chapter 73 (Patreon)

I woke, yawned, stretched, and realized I couldn’t move. I looked down to find Cyra’s arms wrapped tightly around my chest. The tattered remains of the Lasso of Amazonian Binding lay nearby. While the magical rope had proved its worth on the battlefield, it wasn’t quite strong enough for use in the bedroom.

I was quite comfortable where I was, so I sat there awhile, admiring my new wife’s sleeping face. She looked so peaceful and snuggled up against me, and she even had a cute little smile on her lips.

Despite the serenity of the moment, I couldn’t help but feel like I was forgetting something. I’d stayed up late the previous night with Cyra, so it took a while to focus on what I was doing before I’d defeated her in the tournament and claimed her as my own.

The tournament! That was it, I was forgetting the final match was today.

I glanced out the window and saw the sun was already high in the sky. Normally, Myrina woke me up long before then. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted to stumble in on her sister all doe-eyed and naked and so hadn’t woken me. I probably should have set an alarm on my phone.

I had to use Shadowrealm Stride to escape Cyra’s grip, but eventually, I slipped away, dressed, and checked the time. I would be cutting things close, but I still had time to quickly eat. I rummaged around for some of Bridget’s leftovers, then quickly heated them with my aethersmith abilities. The smell of hot food woke Cyra up, and she joined me for a big breakfast.

“That was more intense than I thought it’d be...” Cyra said, face still flushed from last night’s activities.

I chuckled. “Well, it didn’t have to be. You’re the one who made it that intense. I really do need to explain something to you, though. You’ll notice you lost some levels. That’s from an ability of mine. After my match with Myrina today.”

“I know already, Carter. Bridget and Sakura told me most of it,” Cyra replied.

“Oh...” My mind went back to the previous night. Apparently, Cyra hadn’t been as helplessly enthralled by my magic cock as I thought she’d been. “Well, regardless, I’m sure there’s lots of stuff we need to talk about.”

“I won’t say no to another night out with you. But right now, you have an arena match to get to.” Cyra smiled warmly.

And then we were off to Doomblade’s Armory, where we checked in with Gobgob to pick up my Doomblade Armor. But when we arrived, it was nowhere to be found.

Gobgob was out speaking with a customer, so I went out to get her.

“No lassos for sale yet,” Gobgob said. She spoke to a young man with large spectacles, a scrawny, hunch-back build, and a fiendish glint in his eyes.

“B-but when they are, I can use them to... you know... win myself an amazonian girlfriend?” he rubbed his hands together eagerly.

“Why wait? Grab one of those cheap swords over there and challenge somebody. I hear there’s this big lady stalking the city near the arena. Just your type, go on.” I pointed him toward the swords.

“Really? You think I could impress her with this?” he asked.

“Sure, go get her.” I patted him on the back and urged him toward the register.

“He’s going to get his ass kicked by my cousin,” Cyra warned.

“Better he fails utterly early. I’m sure she’ll teach him a lesson he’ll never forget. Still, maybe I shouldn’t have revealed those lassos.”

Cyra shrugged. “If you sell them, you should also sell magic knives that can cut the lassos. Everybody will be buying one within the week.”

I chuckled. “Oh my, Cyra! Perhaps there’s a devious merchant in you after all. Don’t share that idea with Cyra, or I’ll have to implement it.”

Then, I turned to Gobgob, who was looking at Cyra nervously. This was the first time she’d met the big Amazonian woman, though no doubt the resemblance to Myrina was obvious.

“Gobgob, this is Cyra. Cyra, this is Gobgob. Now that we’re all introduced, I have to ask. Gobgob, where’s my Doomblade armor?”

“With your tough red-hair warrior mate,” Gobgob replied. Then she eyed Cyra. “Uh... the other one.”

“With Myrina. Okay. Did she say where she was going?” I asked. I was worried we’d missed her. Myrina might be at Bridget’s apartment right now, wondering where we’d gone.

“She said, ‘Don’t worry. My master plan is nearly complete.’” Gobgob shrugged her shoulders.

“Master plan?” Cyra glanced at me.

My brows drew tight. I’d forgotten Myrina was scheming something. And I’d promised to follow her lead. But what could she be scheming today of all days? The day she and I were due to fight in the arena?

“Wait... she wouldn’t cheat, would she? Get me disqualified because I didn’t show up?” I asked Cyra.

Cyra raised an eyebrow, clearly indicating she didn’t think her little sister was above cheating.

“To the arena, quick!” I said, and Cyra and I took off.

In my head, I was already running through several options. I could probably get Myrina to give me my armor if I could get to her. Otherwise, I’d have to throw together a set from what I had in my bag of holding. It wouldn’t look like Doomblade, but was there any point to the disguise anymore? I’d won Cyra over already, which was what my plan had been all about.

Maybe it would be better to kick Myrina’s ass and win the tournament as myself. It would be satisfying to blast Feisty Redhead around the arena with spells and show the crowd she wasn’t so unbeatable after all. And besides, I still had the secret vibrator I’d added to her suit. That ought to slow her down at inopportune times.

“Come on, I can get us in through the competitor’s entrance,” Cyra said.

I’d been heading there already, but I had forgotten that without my armor, nobody would recognize me. Luckily, I had Cyra with me. Security tried to stop us, but they backed away when they spotted Cyra and saw her running forward and showing no sign of stopping.

By the time we’d made it through the entrance, I settled on the plan to enter the arena in a slapdash suit of armor and then reveal myself as soon as the fight started when I heard the announcer speaking to the crowd.

“Get ready folks, the tournament’s grand conclusion, Doomblade versus Feisty Redhead!”

Cyra and I glanced at one another.

“Aren’t you Doomblade?” Cyra asked, suddenly sounding worried.

“I am,” I confirmed.

“Then who’s that?” Cyra pointed into the arena sands, where my armor stood tall and proud. It still bore some marks from my fight with Cyra, but Gobgob had cleaned the worst of it up.

“Myrina, what are you playing at?” I ran my hand through my hair, suddenly realizing I was too late. Myrina had hatched her scheme, and at this point, the tournament organizers would never believe I was the real Doomblade.

In contrast, Cyra seemed relaxed at my side. “You said before Myrina is Feisty Redhead, right?” Cyra pointed to the armored woman in question.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“I think that’s changed. If you’re going to place a bet, place it on Doomblade. If I know my little sister, I think I know what she’s planning.”

I did just as Cyra instructed and placed a fairly substantial bet on Doomblade, who was the underdog in this match. When we found seats to watch, the fight was about to begin.

The announcer spoke loudly for all to hear.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have an unprecedented situation here. Two individuals from the team bouts are up against one another, both unknown to us before this tournament! One is the fearsome and unstoppable Feisty Redhead, whose sword skill has overwhelmed countless foes! The other is the devious Doomblade, whose bag of holding is always full of tricks to counter his enemies and crush them beneath the perfect combination of talismans and items! Once more, we are gathered in the desperate hope that skill will finally prevail and prove I didn’t waste my entire youth practicing in the arena!”

Moments later, the match began, and I immediately spotted several differences between my fighting style and that of the person currently wearing my armor. Normally, Myrina rushed forward as soon as a match began. She was fearless and eager to test her opponent’s defenses. My fighting style as Doomblade was much more cautious and reserved. I had a given number of magical tools and wanted to deploy them sparingly.

Today, that dynamic had reversed. Doomblade was the one to rush forward, sword in hand. Feisty Redhead held a well-practiced guard, though it wasn’t one quite as refined as Cyra’s. Now, I was certain Cyra was right. Myrina was in my armor, and someone else was in hers.

Swords met clashed, and Doomblade unleashed a series of reckless blows. Each swing of the mighty sword I’d made to accompany my hulking armor took nearly an entire second. Yet, the huge tower shield was always right where it needed to be to deflect any retaliatory strikes.

The announcer noted the suddenly aggressive style as soon as I did.

“Looks like Doomblade intends to fight like a man after all! Grudgingly, I must admit he has some skill with the blade to stay in the fight against Feisty Redhead so long without his usual tricks!”

The fight continued for many long minutes, swords flashing and blades singing in the air. The pace picked up, and soon Feisty Redhead was on the defensive. Doomblade swung wide, was countered, swung, and was countered again, but on the third blow, her sword was out of position enough that a simple step forward and a tower shield shove knocked her off balance. Doomblade’s enormous sword swatted her aside, and she went skidding in the sands, much to the crowd’s interest.

Feisty Redhead seemed to have enough playing around then, and she pulled a shield off her back. Bright blue light shimmered around it, taking the shape of a magically reinforced shield.

The crowd gasped in awe at the sight, since this was obviously a skill. Until now, Feisty Redhead had been quite reluctant to use any skills. That she was doing so now meant she was finally taking the fight seriously.

But it told me something else. That magic shield definitely wasn't one of Myrina's abilities.

Doomblade and Feisty Redhead clashed again, and this time Feisty Redhead had the advantage. Her power armor granted her massively enhanced stats, but she clearly had a great arsenal of abilities and keen knowledge on how to use them. Crimson light covered her sword, and bright pink sparks exploded beneath her heels, speeding her steps and making her movements unpredictable.

The two armored fighters clashed several times before Doomblade finally drove her back long enough for a breather.

Then, Doomblade spoke. The voice seemed slightly off to me, but most of the crowd wouldn’t have heard it often enough to tell.

“You have some skill, Feisty Redhead. Out of all my opponents in this tournament, only you are worthy of my true power!”

Doomblade grabbed the belt pouches and, one by one, pried them off and tossed them in the sand.

“Oh no. Don’t tell me. Is she...?” I began.

“She is.” Cyra nodded.

“What’s this? Doomblade seems to be indicating that he’s not going to use any of his tricks today? Will we finally see justice served? Or is he that confident that his armor will hold? And what’s all this about his true power?” the announcer asked the crowd.

Doomblade’s hands went to the helmet. Fingers pressed the latch, and the helmet came free, revealing a wave of red hair and a familiar smiling face. She dropped the helm in the sand beneath her, combed fingers through her red locks, and wore one of the biggest grins I’d ever seen on her.

“Now you face Myrina Samhain, unrivaled warrior and the Blade of Doom!” Myrina spread her arms wide, inviting attack.

For a moment, the arena seemed silent. Myrina’s revelation had shocked them all, especially the announcer.

“C-could it be? Could Doomblade... no, could Myrina Samhain actually be a warrior, after all? We’ve all heard the name Samhain, but who is this mysterious woman who disguised herself as Doomblade? Could she really be a warrior after all the cheating tricks she used so far?”

Feisty Redhead stood again, sword at the ready. For a moment, I thought she would reveal herself too, but she stayed silent as she engaged Myrina again.

Myrina tossed aside the hulking tower shield and took Doomblade’s sword in both hands. Her speed and skill with the blade seemed to suddenly increase tenfold. Where before, Feisty Redhead had been a match for her. Now it was clear she was the better of the two, and not just with her sword.

Myrina stomped the arena beneath her, churning the sands and throwing Feisty Redhead off her feet. She swung her blade wide, whipping the wind until a miniature sandstorm swept across the arena. She jumped, and the feet of her power armor tread on nothing but air. Despite being big and heavy in her armor, she shifted direction in an instant and hit like a mountain come to life.

Like me, Myrina had held back most of her abilities besides the ones she could use subtly. She’d just been relying on her Feisty Redhead armor to do the heavy lifting, but now she made liberal use of her abilities, and make use of them she did. I saw a dozen opportunities where she could have ended the fight, but instead, she let Feisty Redhead recover each time so the battle would last a little longer. And the longer the battle wore on, the mightier Myrina’s strikes grew.

I knew it was thanks to Myrina’s legendary ability, Tempo of Battle, which increased her stats the longer a fight lasted. But I rarely saw it on full display, as I saw now. Myrina was a goddess of war. Each clash of metal shook the stands, and each battle cry pierced the air.

The announcer began mumbling, as though overcome with fervent awe.

“Ladies and gentlemen... we are witnessing history in the making. I take back everything I ever said about Doomblade. She’s a warrior without equal! A paragon of the sword! An indomitable champion of warrior spirit! No wonder all others saw only parlor tricks during their matches with her. None of them were worthy of witnessing such heaven-defying skill! I tell you here and now, folks, if I could still fight, I would jump from this balcony into the sands below just for the opportunity to be trampled upon by such a warrior!”

While the audience roared cheers of overwhelming approval, I glanced at Cyra in shock.

“Wait... that’s it? I spent weeks getting called a rotten cheater, and Myrina swings her sword a few times and suddenly the announcer is begging to eat the sand she walks on?”

Cyra laughed. “Life is not always fair, but think positively. This was a surprisingly good turn for us. Myrina must have been working on this plan for weeks.”

“Myrina? Planning? What?”

“This must be her doing. Now, my family faces no public embarrassment over someone defeating two promising young matriarchs, my cousin and me. All who witnessed that fight know they were bested by another Samhain, and our honor is unblemished. It also solidly secures our family’s goal of attaining leadership over the Dragon Lodge’s auxiliary unit. We may not have the clanswoman we expected in charge of the unit, but we do have it.”

“That’s... a good point. But Myrina couldn’t have possibly planned all this out so far in advance... could she?”

I thought back to the last few weeks and how she’d seemed sharper than usual ever since the tournament began. About how she’d vanished and swiftly taken care of Patriarch Darkbinding to keep him from exposing our secret identities. She’d gone through the tournament hiding her skills just as I had, all for this revelation. And of how she’d woken me up before every match until now so I’d get used to her reminding me... then she stopped right on the final day so I’d oversleep and miss this.

Could I have been wrong all this time? Was Myrina actually good at this?

Thinking back, my mind went to that time she’d bought goods on lines of credit and resold them for coin, or the time arrived at the perfect moment to deal with Lisette permanently, or all the times she drank until she passed out to allow me to set up my secret Mana Bomb supply line in Valkyrie’s Watch. Each of those incidents had seemed like irresponsible, comically reckless decisions. Often downright stupid. And yet, they’d all worked out for us in the end.

Perhaps I had Myrina wrong all along? Maybe there was a fiendishly clever schemer somewhere deep down, hidden beneath a fortress of impulsivity and ridiculousness. Still, something didn’t quite feel right to me. While this had all turned out well for us, it didn’t feel like the kind of scheme Myrina would come up with. There had to be something else she was after.

“And the winner of this match, and our tournament, is the majestic, magnificent, unrivaled, supremely talented, Myrina Samhain! Do you have anything to say to your adoring fans, grand champion?” the announcer shouted to the roar of the crowd.

Myrina waited, hand held high as the applause slowly died.

“Thank you all for coming. I love it when things come together like this. I’m rather fond of my nickname. When I’m in this armor, call me Doomblade.”

The crowd roared in approval, chanting my name, though now it belonged to Myrina.

“Doomblade! Doomblade! Doomblade!”

I stood from my seat, eyes wide. The gesture was lost among the enormous crowd, as was my shouting a moment later.

“That was it! This was her plan all along. She wanted to steal my awesome nickname!”

Now, it made sense to me. Stealing my secret identity had been her plan all along. Everything else was surely just a coincidence.

Right?

<Note>

End of book 4, but there will be an epilogue.