Defending My Kingdom

**Date Started:** July 8th, 2021
**Date Completed:** Ongoing
**Previous Role-Play:** N/A
**Users Involved:** User:Starving Skeleton, User:KontonMan
**Setting:** Clover Kingdom
**Characters Involved**: Samson, Rebekah, Rosanne Vermillion

## Running

**486XR**
They were out of breath. Hungry. Thirsty. And what's worst was the terrible, burning sensation just beneath their skin. Unable to be washed away no matter how much they tried to scrub. It felt like trails of scorching liquid metal slowly dripping down their body. But the young boy held on tightly. A young warrior whose body had defeated many men more than twice his size and slain beast during their escape.

*"Samson...I'm not...Your mother..you need....Rebekah....leave...He's after...."* Samson thought back to several nights ago when he first heard the eerie warnings of Chief David's final breath. For the longest Samson suspected..But when he overheard-

*"Don't let...To protect....tribe..."* Samson took a sip of water from the nearby river and rested his aching back against the massive tree. It was dark. He felt his heart race and tried to calm it by slowing his breath. He didn't fear the dark, often spending the long hours training beneath the moonlight. The Tribe of Solomon were rumored to be legendary warriors. Bloodthirsty barbarians with war and violence flowing deeply within their veins. Etched into the very fabric of their magic.

Only maddened beast would make their homes within the Grand Magic Zone, Desert Babylonia. But Samson remembered his mother's nightly storytelling. Of how the mighty prophet Solomon, a wise king, brought his tribes of people to the Desert Babylonia and created their village before summoning a seemingly endless sandstorm to ward off all invaders. It was a history which began with slavery. Torture. Monstrous atrocities. They were warriors. Not because they loved to fight, which of course many did, but because they needed to survive and thrive. Yet his father forbade him from practicing his magic when in public. Causing Samson to rely on his own nightly sessions.

"We're almost there, Rebekah." Samson whispered to himself. "Almost there..." Even with his lineage, traversing the Grand Magic Zone is no easy feat. It took so much out of him. Especially considering how much Mana he expended providing his baby sister with extra protection. But they'd finally made it out earlier...Clover Kingdom was within the horizon.

And within that Kingdom there was a blur. Red flashes moved from roof to roof, charging through clothesline’s and windows. She moved past those cleaning their homes, only leaving behind the image of her red mane. Rosanne Vermillion had no intention of staying still for too long, the world was far too large to simply stand idly.

She leaped from the roof and onto the streets, the thirteen year old girl managing to land with grace despite it all. The result natural talent coupled with training, no doubt. Rose continued moving forwards. Past the commoner’s region. Through the Forsaken Realm. Truth be told, she was under “house arrest” by the order of her grandfather. According to him, Rose had the tendency to act as if she were a Magic Knight even if she didn’t have her Grimoire yet.

Getting past those house guards hadn’t been too difficult, her Acceleration Magic made her a blur and difficult to keep a hand on. Rose hadn’t really had a plan when she had left, she simply didn’t like being kept in her room. And the plains surrounding the Kingdom were about as open of a space that she knew. And so that had been her destination, and in the moment she had no idea what she’d do after.

But as she crested the hills and into the plains, her eyes spotted two figures. Two children sitting by the river, resting. They were foreigners, they had to be. Diamond? Heart? Rose may have been young but even she was aware of the fact that people from outside Clover didn’t come here for no reason.

Rose’s blitzing movements came to a halt before the two, her figure easier to make out now. Crossed arms, her features trying to appear as angry as they could for now. Scratched onto an armband was a poorly drawn recreation of the Crimson Lions’ symbol.

“Who are you?!” she leaned in close to them, wanting a closer look at them. “Are you…bad guys?”

Rebekah was asleep on a nearby tree. Samson chose to let her rest before they covered the final stretch to the Clover Kingdom. Not that he had actually thought of a plan beyond go to some guards and ask if they can live there. But he needed to do something. Chief David told him-

"Shit." He looked up at the approaching crimson blur, dropping the pale of water he'd gathered for Rebekah and his slight fever. Samson stood up with his eyes locked onto the girl who was just the same size and probably age. Maybe in another life he could've introduced himself. Maybe in another time Samson could approach this situation with honesty and trust. But he here and now, he only cared about his sister's safety. After all, he did all of this to ensure Chief David's warnings would remain just dying whispers.

"We're not bad guys. We are," Samson hesitated. As if their skin tones didn't tell enough, Samson heard tales about how outsiders treated his fellow tribesmen. "travelers. Now leave. We need to reach Clover before sundown."

“Hmmmm!!’ Rose exaggerated her “thinking”, tapping a finger against her lips. Whoever this figure was had said they weren’t bad guys, but hesitated when deciding on what to say they actually were. Rose did the same thing when trying to come up with an excuse as to why she avoided her educational training. Which could’ve meant that he was lying. But she had no way to confirm this, up until he had said that he had to reach Clover soon. By a certain deadline at that? Some sort of planned attack?

She leaned away from them, straightening her posture as she tried to act with authority. “Suspicious…VERY suspicious…” Rose’s arms returned to their crossed position. She was going to join the Crimson Lions eventually, so she didn’t see why she couldn’t pretend as if she already was. “You two have to leave, I think. I can’t let you hurt my home.”

"You *think* I have to leave?" Samson mocked while laughing. His young voice cracking despite the deepened roar. *"Shit!"* He quickly winced, regaining his composure in hopes she hadn't seen that moment of weakness caused by an intense scorching pain from his back.

"Me and my sister are going there before sun down. And there's nothing you can do about it." Samson threatened. He took a fighter's stance. One that he learned from his father...Or the man he knew to be his father.

*"You must only use this stance to protect. For your love is the source of your strength."*

Samson took a deep breath in preparation. *"My love is the source of my strength. And I'll do anything to protect it."*

Rose watched as this boy, younger than her, entered a fighting stance. It was’t like ones she had seen children in Clover pull out jokingly, this one was proper. She knew the basis for a strong stance; a solid base, a way to quickly protect your head, and a way to quickly unleash an attack. But those would vary depending on how one’s fighting style was. It was why Rose had given up on learning one from her Grandfather.

She looked into Samson’s eyes, then at a nearby tree. Back to Samson, back to the tree. Back at Samson, back at the tree. And as she had turned her head to look at the tree, she became a blur. Her entire body had turned away from Samson to the left, pivoting off her back foot as she raised her front leg into a roundhouse to go “around” the front of Samon’s stance, attacking at his shoulder multiple times with the leg as if she was some sort of jackhammer.

For so long, Samson was noted as the Tribe of Solomon's future Warrior King. A position meant to protect the People's Monarch. He'd demonstrated a natural inclination for combat and a general affinity for overall power. Of course he heard the whispers. The gossiping old women who noted the vast difference in Samson from his father. Not just in the fact Monarch David had deep green eyes, just as Samson's mother, but also the fact that David was never a fighter. He was a wise man. An old, talented magician capable of creating grand earthen golems. And yet, his son was a warrior whose magic allowed him to fight men more than twice his size and age.

But none of that matter when Rose's leg made contact. All he remembered was a crimson blur followed by a powerful explosive pain which sent Samson flying back. *"What the-"*

Samson bit his tongue and circulated his mana throughout his body. His leg's musculature sharpening as did his arms. He managed to catch himself midair...albeit sliding further back in an absolute lack of control. *"I can't treat her like my seniors."* Samson thought to himself. *"She's faster than me....But..."*

His leg dug deeper into the ground as his weight lowered. Meanwhile his front foot swung outward.

Up came Samson’s foot, Rose surprised that someone so young was still standing after that kick. Usually because of her magic and natural physical strength, it was enough to keep her opponents that were her age and older down successfully. Yet here was this foreigner, able to stand tall after the strike and able to unleash an attack of his own back. That took some sort of latent skill, something Rose recognized inside of the boy.

It slammed into her gut, Rose wincing as she felt a pain surge through her. Pain like this wasn’t something she normally experienced from those her age, she was meant to be an outlier. So what did that say about Samson? *"He’s strong...did he have to be a bad guy? I should bring him in before another person tries to take the credit from me..."*

Rose took a step back, allowing a moment of solace between the two before the crimson blur showed up again. A flicker of motion as she stepped back towards Samson, stepping to the side around him in a smooth motion before resting behind. She’d reach her arms out to wrap around his gut, before leaping up and leaning back to slam Samson to the ground with a suplex.

Back home, people would say that a fight with Samson lasted one round if they failed to avoid his trademark ability. Few could withstand his initial onslaught of attacks and even less possessed the ability to remain a step ahead. So it was no shock that he found himself in this troubling predicament. Samson realized something just from their initial clash.

*"There's no way I can keep up."*

A powerful statement that upheaved his entire strategy. For the first time in his life, Samson had to go on the defense and focus on counters. She moved quicker than he blinked. And with an almost unholy amount of control. Usually those who specialized in speed wasted steps or mismanaged their breaths. But Rose seemed to be in mastery of herself. A frightening realization nonetheless.

But Samson wouldn't give up. Especially with Rebekah sleeping only several steps away..or for Rose...a simple hop. He felt the sudden jerk from her arms wrapping around his stomach and tensed his body. Contracting every muscle he could feel in preparation. Meanwhile, Samson grabbed her arms and took a deep breath as Rose's slam sent endless waves of pain through his body. He knew one thing for sure. Anyone else from his tribe would've probably died right then and there.

He bit down hard to fight the urge to blackout. Keeping his grip tight around her wrist. Samson possessed a powerful magic that many valued. However it required him to learn, not just about magical power, but also about physicality as well. And such, he became known for his inhuman strength which rivaled men in their prime. Magical energy surged through his forearms, reinforcing the muscles and causing them to bulge in both shape and size. Veins popping through his skin. Ultimately revealing what many started to fear Samson for. His equally unholy gripping power. He squeezed her wrist so tightly it would seem impossible to escape. The crushing and twisting power increasing rapidly.

Rosanne was the strongest of a pride of Vermillions bred to be lions, she was in turn also the symbol of their pride. Her magic hadn’t only granted her the ability to move at absurd speeds, it had supposedly accelerated the very rate she developed at due to the nature and sheer absurd quantity of magic she possessed within her. And that had meant her strength had been augmented through arcane means.

It was why she had been able to lift the boy who’s muscle mass made him outweigh her, how she could beat men twice her age in a show of pure strength. Her slam had struck true, a quick technique that always took out those her age and almost always those older than her. Yet this Samson fellow was younger than her, and comparatively fine. And what surprised her the most was the sheer pressure she felt around her wrist. She couldn’t beat him in a contest of raw strength.

But Rose wouldn’t let that stop her. A woman who aspired to reach the top, this couldn’t be it. She was already likely suffering from bruised bones, and she had to knock him off. Rosanne roared with determination as she arched her back and raised her legs and bringing them down, using the momentum to force herself back to her feet with Samson still gripping onto her wrist with a ridiculous strength.

“Don’t...” she spoke through gritted teeth. “Don’t let go.”

She burst forwards with her magic, winds unable to realize she had moved as all that the outside would see of Rose was the crimson blur. She had run into the forest, hoping to ram through trees while inadvertently using Samson as a battering ram.

Samson held on tightly. His forearms growing as he increased the pressure within his grasp in hopes of pulverizing her bones. He was of course baffled by the fact she still moved faster than the wind itself even with him latched on. Very few could throw Samson around for he was truly his father's son. Or so King David would say during Samson's secret sparring matches. Either way he placed his face deep into Rose's back while siphoning more magic into his own. This time his body pulling the girl inward more for a constricting bear hug.

He held onto her tightly. His body's additional muscle lessening the impact of trees, stones and other natural weaponry she tried to use against him. But it still took everything in him to keep from letting go. This girl moved swiftly. Right after one slam another came. And then another. Each one followed by a pained groan. However should one have blessed eyes, they'd see a sight famed in the ancient tales of Solomon's descendants. No matter how hard she slammed him. How tight he squeezed. How much he felt like he'd fall off and into a river.

Samson smiled.

This kid was a monster. Rose struggled to mask her pained expressions as she felt a bone break. She quite literally couldn’t recall a single experience in which she had been hurt in this way, Samson was the first person to ever break one of her bones. If he wasn’t one of the bad guys, she would’ve complimented him right now. She supposed that it’d have to wait until after this fight though.

Much like Samson, consistently slamming into tree after tree didn’t seem to bother Rosanne. Not only was the boy being used to soak up most of it, she herself seemed naturally resilient. But even she had her limits, and defending herself against whatever magic Samson was showing off was not in her capability just yet. But she had to change tactics, and so after one more collision she passed by a tree towards the clearing.

This entire bout, Rosanne had shown herself a brawler. Using raw force and speed to overcome opponents, with very little regard to herself or technique. Even when struggling against Samson’s grip, she had opted for the brute’s way out despite its failure. And with her now making her way towards the clearing, she was more than likely about to unveil yet another barbaric tactic. And so as she passed the tree...She pivoted off her back foot the same moment she lowered her gravity to perform a perfect 180 degree turn. Form and grace allowed her to conserve all her momentum and even increase it as she now ran towards the tree she had just passed.

The tree where Rebekah laid.

It happened so fast, But Samson saw it coming when she made that sudden shift in momentum. This psychopath was going to ram right into Rebekah!

"I..won't let you..." He screamed. His right arm quickly wrapped from her wrist and twisted around Roseanne's neck. Both his arms and back exploded with magical power as both their muscles increased in size. He didn't care what happened. Didn't even bother to monitor how much magic he fed into this sloppy spell. All Samson knew was that he needed to become stronger. Strong enough that he hoped to choke her before the collision. Uncaring if it'd send the two of them flying or he'd run out of power.

"Stop me from saving my sister!"

In all honesty, it was an excellent move on Samson’s part. And his reaction speed! It wasn’t something Rosanne ran into often, to be able to act when she was moving this fast. His love for his sister struck a chord within her, having grown up with siblings and cousins herself. But with his hands wrapped around her neck to try and force her into submission, she had to ignore it. For she had a love she had to defend as well.

The Clover Kingdom.

She didn’t care about the aristocracy of it, or the politics of the Magic Knights. All she cared for was the country itself. The land she had grown on, the land that had made Rosanne the girl she was. She had one goal in life, to become the next Magic Emperor and lead Clover into a utopia. So she couldn’t lose this fight, because she hadn’t brought prosperity yet.

Mana flowed in her, the power of her Acceleration Magic. But instead of speeding things up as she had always done, she slowed down her breathing through arcane means. Forcing herself to preserve and conserve her breath, while the same mana healed the slowly forming asphyxiation wounds. Despite the fact that Samson would harm her faster than she could heal, she’d take every moment she could get.

She continued running at the tree, but instead leaped off the trunk and away from the drowsy girl. And as they passed over the river, the motion itself was undetectable. But Samson would likely feel the jerking of her legs through their contact and his magic. Rose had kicked the air so fast that she forced all of their momentum down into the river.

They’d slam into the river, going further down as a crater was made. Rose’s plan was simple, for right now she could last in the water for a much longer time than a normal person due to the sheer amount of magic power she possessed and how she was using it on her breathing. Her plan was to have Samson drown before she did.

The Tribe of Solomon approached Magic from a different perspective. Yes. They were valuable warriors capable of grandiose spells. Masters who controlled their mana in harsh environments. Generations spent within the Grand Magic Zone they called home instilled a level of magical understanding deep within their blood. But they didn't approach magic in a manner that other kingdoms did. A true magician must master their own body first. As it was the only way to survive in a land constantly bombarded by magically powered phenomenon.

And although Samson uses his magic to enhance his strength, he noticed a crucial difference between the two of them. Samson was stronger than Roseanne. So while dragged into the river, he used his strength to crawl around Roseanne so that they were facing each other. His arms still wrapped in a tight bearhug. He slammed his mouth against hers in an attempt to force her lips open. After which, he surged his magic through his diaphragm. Increasing its size and density which resulted in him enhancing the suctioning power of his inhale.

Anger. Anger. Anger. That was the only emotion pumping through Rosanne as this boy DARED to put his lips onto hers. An attempt to save his own breath, it didn’t matter. Mana crackled around her, her magic power beginning to leak. A Royal of the Clover Kingdom, naturally born with the most mana. And amongst her immediate family, there was no doubt. She had the potential to have the most mana of them all. So she glared past Samson, at the water. All of the mana here…it had to be hers.

Mana Zone.

Every speck of mana within this river belonged to her, under her command. She could feel every movement within the zone, letting her power exude out to suffocate those around her. “*Acceleration Curse Magic: Laevo Festina*.” was her only thought as her Grimoire simply appeared next to her, open at a page. Through the assistance of the zone, Rosanne aimed to completely slow down all of Samson’s functions. The flow of his mana, his breathing, blood flow, heart beat. All of it. She would defend this country, and she would defend herself-

She was suddenly met with oxygen as her zone faded. Her spell dropped. Rose was being held up in the air, across from her Samson, having been pried from Rosanne. Each of them were being held by a single figure, with auburn crimson hair. A bushy moustache, and the robes of the Crimson Lion. He glared at Rosanne with annoyance and a slight hint of amusement, before glancing at Samson.

“Now,” Cognac Vermillion sighed. “What is going on here?”

Samson felt her pulling the oxygen back. His heart slowing as she continued to fight back. He felt her power surging through his body. But that didn't stop him as he continued feeding magic into his diaphragm. Well, that was until he was pulled into the air. Samson coughed violently before looking forward. Wet blue hair glued to his forehead with eyes of a warrior. A deep red that meant something unseen in any kingdom. His eye color hid a terrible secret that only few remembered. But more importantly, it served as protection for Rebekah who turned around.

"Huh?" He thought to himself as he thought he saw Rebekah's pink-eyed gaze meet his. But he quickly turned to the old man.

"Let me go!" He roared. "I'll fight you right after I finish with her! Its a sin to interrupt such an amazing battle. I'll be sure to deliver punishment to you, Old Man!"

“Yeah grandpa! We were fighting! It was -“ Rose cut herself off as she spotted Rebekah’s eyes. A familiar gaze as Rose recognized the emotions within the young girl. “Are you okay?! Did he kidnap you-“

“Rosie. Quiet.” the older man spoke. Two words carried an ineffable weight, heavy enough to instantly silence Rosanne. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of her head, as genuine worry finally found itself plastered onto her face. An emotion that many assumed she wasn’t even capable of showing. Especially because of her prodigious skill.

Cognac turned his neck to face Samson, his murky gold eyes glaring into the young warrior’s own. “You are, from what I’ve heard, attempting to step foot onto a Kingdom that is not your own. You do not answer the questions asked to you for the safety of you and our nation, and you resort to name-calling? Boy, I must ask you...” his eyes began to glow, the pupils clearer as if the cloudiness had broken like glass. Whatever pressure exuded by Rose was dwarfed by the burst of power shown by Cognac in that moment. Not only did the ground rumble, the air itself shook as if affected by an earthquake. Mana itself was trembling as it was pushed off of its natural currents by the sheer magic power possessed by this man.

“Show some respect.” Cognac said. He withdrew the magic power, letting the two down onto the ground. “Now. I’ll deal with you later Rosie. You, boy. What brings you to my nation?”

Fear.

Samson only felt this feeling once more. When that *monster* first introduced himself. A colossus of a human covered in muscle and scars. A body dwarfing all other men of his tribe. But most importantly, one recognized as the greatest warrior since King Solomon built his first temple and tamed the great beast. Samson never thought anyone alive would make him feel this again. Yet here he is. A giant lump in his neck. Sweat dripping from his forehead. Yet he stood up once more. Inching away from Cognac and towards Rebekah, where he stood between the two.

"I'm Samson. Son of-" He bit his tongue. That name carried weight in his homeland...so much, Chief David forbade him from speaking it. "current son of Solomon's sons. I'm seeking refuge in Clover Kingdom for my sister and I. And for help to remove the curse that was placed upon us. We aren't going to cause trouble."

"Ah, from Babylonia..." Cognac stroked his chin. The Tribe had come up in his studies of Grand Magic Zones, wanting himself to be able to withstand any of them. Towering over the boy, he too took a glance at Rebekah before one at Rosanne. The crimson mane hadn't spoken up yet. "You're to face...discrimination in our lands. Your tribe is seen as barbaric idiots amongst the majority of us."

He stepped forwards as he rolled his shoulder back. And in a moment that looked as if he was going to attack, but instead squatted so that he was on an eye level with Samson. "But clearly those ideas are false. What barbarian would try and protect anything but themself?"

Cognac twirled his finger at Samson. "Turn around. Let me see this curse."

He knew very well of the discrimination he'd face. There was once a time when members of the tribe would trade among the surrounding kingdoms for their rare jewels, herbs and spices. Plants raised within mana zones were rich with natural benefits and unique taste only found among the desert plants and oasis. But since few could traverse these vast sands, these merchants relied on traveling caravans.

Beyond their natural resources, descendants of Solomon were naturally gifted warriors. Ferocious beast who used magic to amplify themselves. After all, survival meant learning to reinforce themselves with magic from an early age. Those who left the kingdom would return with tales of discrimination. Falsehoods. Snobs. Rich fools who saw them as nothing more than barbaric warriors.

But Samson felt different when in Cognac's presence. He felt tamed yet respected. And so he turned around and revealed the spider webs of magic etched into his skin. A deep magic which outlined his nervous system. The result of his attempt to escape...

"My sister has it too...If you know who can remove it I'll gladly work off any debt I owe."

"Tch..." Cognac clicked his tongue in annoyance. "This is...strong Curse Magic. I'm surprised others have taken upon a speciality in it..."

But it was because of that speciality that Cognac had with the Curse form of magic that he understood the intricacies of this Curse. The magic, the mana, trailed across what looked like the boys nervous system. Definitely an interesting magic affinity, but the Curse had most of Cognac's attention. He began to mumble under his breath. Numbers and calculations as he began to devise something.

Cognac placed a hand on Samson's back, facing the foreign mana directly. "Grab your sister's hand." he said. A thick Grimoire burst from the ground next to the Magic Knight. It flipped through tens upon tens of pages until settling on one, the Grimoire beginning to shake and tremble as the knowledge of the spell travelled through the air and filled Cognac's senses. Arcane power coalesced on Cognac's hand.

"**Impact Healing Magic: Curse - BREAK.**"

Cognac forcibly injected his own mana into the network that was this Curse. Impact Magic was an affinity about vibrations and tremors, calling upon the arcane energies of the world to produce magical impacts. Cognac's spell sought to find the foreign mana within Samson and impact it with such force that it was displaced from the pathways it had been set off before releasing a secondary burst to expel the mana from Samson. And if he had reached for his sister, the impacts would travel into her and do the same thing.

The man let his hand fall to his side, taking a glance at Samson and Rebekah. "Well?" he asked. "Did it work, youngins?"