Chapter Text
SIX MONTHS AGO…
“So… you going to tell me what you’re in for?”
Anthony turned around, meeting the curious gaze of the prisoner across from him. It had only been a day since his arrest. For seventeen hours of that day Anthony had tuned out the incessant questioning of his fellow inmates, as if they were white noise in the gloomy dungeon cell.
“Oh, that got your attention.” He suppressed an eyeroll at the smugness of the inmate’s tone. Instead, he shuffled closer to the iron bars and glanced down the corridor; still no guards. They were most likely prolonging his release to get under his skin. A sick attempt to establish dominance.
Well, at least that meant he had time for one last conversation. Even if it was with a man he got arrested.
Truth be told, Anthony had recognised the man in the cell opposite from him the moment he arrived: Corn Head, his nemesis during his time as CheeseSlab Man. For many months, Corn Head had been terrorising the local markets and farm traders. Hundreds of BoFLandians had been robbed, had their plots destroyed, and, in the worst of cases, been killed. The royal knights had made multiple attempts to prevent further harmful actions, all of which were unsuccessful.
Then came Anthony — well, CheeseSlab Man.
With a new masked hero on the town, BoFLandia had someone to root for: a protector and defender of justice. Naturally, Corn Head had taken CheeseSlab Man’s existence as a threat to the devilish regime he had established, and so their conflict began. However, it was over as soon as it started — as it turns out, Corn Head’s power manifested itself solely from fear and intimidation tactics. Who knew that all it would take Anthony to defeat BoFLandia’s greatest villain would be a few punches with enough power in a decent enough pattern? Certainly not Corn Head!
Anthony shrugged, “I beat a few guys up. That new hero — Kid with Poulaines — caught me. Now I’m here. Not much of a story to tell. Although…”
That was a lie. For Anthony was not caught by Kid With Poulaines — Anthony was Kid With Poulaines.
After the capturing of Corn Head by CheeseSlab Man, Anthony retired the mask. He was anxious that if he remained a public figure for too long, his true identity would soon be discovered. From then on, he would simply live out his days how he did before CheeseSlab Man: managing his single-member adventure guild… and hopefully attempt to recruit a few members.
However, despite the eradication of Corn Head’s tyranny over the village, a new wave of trouble was on it’s way to BoFLandia. Thieves, arsonists, and murderers alike emerged and ran rampant among the streets — the townspeople bolted their doors shut and prayed for their hero’s return. Once again, it appeared that the knights were failing to restore the peace and equilibrium of the kingdom.
It thrilled Anthony to see these men in armour fail to bring a stop to it all, with the knowledge that he could. And would.
Unfortunately for him, when you kill multiple of these wrongdoers (for perfectly justifiable reasons, Anthony contested) and incite acts of rebellion against those who threatened to disrupt the peace, the knights do not care much for the nuance of vigilantism. Especially not if the vigilante in question happens to be the very same perpetrator as the crime-fighter they were outdone by. And so, after finally taking down a particularly sneaky thief who had escaped his clutches for the past few weeks, Anthony was prepared to retire to his humble abode and revel in his victories alone. He could envision it clearly: He would treat himself to an additional slice of bread and butter and gaze out at the distant town from his window, imagining how his fellow townsfolk would praise and celebrate him — that is, if they knew he was CheeseSlab Man and Kid With Poulaines.
His jubilant mood had vanished the second the handcuffs were fastened around his wrists, the knights’ declaration of his arrest a blow to his growing pride (and ego) at his triumphant vigilante work. His eyes had narrowed as he was taunted by one of them, nails digging deep red crescents into his palms as he clenched his fists.
“A real shame it had to be this way, isn’t it? Should’ve just left it for us to handle.” The knight had chuckled dryly to himself, before returning his attention to Anthony, “His Majesty is planning on making a public example of you, send a message to your little followers that those who stick their noses where they don’t belong will end up like you. I hear that they’ve installed the scaffolding for public hangings!”
Anthony’s eyebrows furrowed. Was he serious? If he had left it for the knights to handle, half the town would have been caught in the crossfire! His thanks for protecting the innocent and encouraging them to defend themselves was becoming a ‘public example’, which could only mean one thing: execution. He glanced at the knight, the condescending smirk on his face stirring something dangerous in Anthony’s chest—
“You spat in a knight’s face?” Corn Head — Anthony had long since forgotten his real name — sat up straighter, eyebrows raised.
Anthony nodded slightly. Of course, he’d omitted the obvious details of his story to preserve his identity. Still, the corner of his lips twitched upwards as he glanced at his handcuffs, “Yeah. Honestly, it was a long time coming. He deserved it.”
“God, that’s awesome. If only I did that with CheeseSlab Man… If I could go back in time and do one thing, I’d probably do that…”
Anthony’s eyebrow quirked. He wouldn’t change anything else?
“No, wait! I’d make sure that I carried my sword with me. That way, when CheeseSlab Man challenges me, I can just stab him!” Corn Head nodded eagerly.
“You— uh, you don’t think that you were brought here for a reason? You’ve been holed up here for a few months, isn’t that enough time to reflect on your actions?” Anthony anxiously glanced down the corridor once again as he spoke — the knights sure were taking their merry time, weren’t they? At this rate, he was certain that Corn Head would find a way into his cell and kill him before King Mohan could even sentence him officially.
“Oh, I’ve done a lot of reflecting alright. Reflecting on why I lost, reflecting on CheeseSlab Man’s fighting techniques… All in preparation for our next meeting!”
“Your… next meeting?” Anthony turned his head back sharply, internally cursing the way his voice wavered ever so slightly.
Corn Head grinned, hands gripping his own bars and Anthony had to resist the urge to lean back as he pressed his face against the small gaps of the barrier, “Round two. He may have won the battle, but I’ll win the war. I could beat him to a bloody pulp, or slice his head off, maybe even hide an explosive in his lair! What I’d do to see his face before his insides paint his walls…” He trailed off momentarily before he flitted his gaze back to Anthony, “No matter how, I’ll kill Anthony Po where he stands.”
Holy shit, Anthony thought to himself, this guy is fucking insane.
“Anthony… Who?” He schooled his expression into something more neutral, tilting his head in feigned curiosity. Act stupid, Anthony. Just act stupid.
“Anthony Po. CheeseSlab Man… Kid With Poulaines, too. I overheard the guards talking about him. That bastard is the one who got us both locked up down here,” Corn Head’s voice lowered, his demeanour shifting into something darker before he froze momentarily. When he snapped his head up, there was a gleam in his eyes that Anthony could only describe as vengeful.
“You should join me. We would make a real nice team, you and I.”
Anthony fought back a laugh, instead gnawing the insides of his cheeks and nodding gently, “Yeah man, absolutely. Let’s show that guy who he messed with. Teach him a lesson.”
Corn Head smiled back at him, “That’s what I like to hear. He has no idea what’s coming for him.”
Well, if I didn’t before, I certainly do now.
“Exactly. We can have a little fun with it though, you know? You strike first, then I’ll ambush him. Then as he bleeds out, we can both monologue about how he wronged us.” Anthony leaned forward, hoping the excitement in his expression veiled the sarcastic undertone of his words. Corn Head took the bait, none-the-wiser.
“You, my friend, are a genius. What would you say to him?”
Anthony paused, pretending to think about it, “I don’t know. I mean, maybe something like…” He cleared his throat, preparing to immerse himself in his performance, “It seems we meet again, Kid With Poulaines… Or should I say—”
“Anthony Po!”
A booming voice echoed across the corridor, and Anthony snapped his head towards the source. Approaching him was the same knight who had arrested him only a day ago, keys in his pocket jingling with every heavy step he took. As he began to unlock the cell, Anthony glanced behind him at Corn Head, who stared back at him with widened eyes; the reality of who he had been speaking to was slowly dawning on him.
“You— You!” Corn Head stammered, pointing an accusatory finger in Anthony’s direction, “You got me locked up down here! I’ll kill you, Anthony Po! I mean it!”
A heavy hand at the scruff of Anthony’s neck shifted his attention, his feet moving instinctively as he was dragged forcefully out of the cell. Well, this is it. Anthony craned his neck back to speak over his shoulder, a small smirk quirking at the corner of his lips.
“It was nice to catch up! If we both get out of this alive, I look forward to round two.”
Of course, the likelihood of Anthony miraculously surviving King Mohan’s verdict were slim to none. But he could pretend just for a moment, even if it was just to get under his old enemy’s skin. A final laugh before he met his untimely demise—
And yet not even an hour later, he found himself later stood before the king himself.
Neal Mohan — His Majesty — was by no means a ‘perfect leader’. Countless times had the kingdom suffered for his ignorance and dismissive attitude, which had resulted in the invasion attempt made by the neighboring kingdom: BeastLand. Thankfully, Zoltar the Wise had been there to prevent any real harm from occurring. Only now, Zoltar was dead; as a result, and BoFLandia vulnerable yet again.
Anthony shifted somewhat uncomfortably under King Mohan’s inquisitive stare, fixing his own gaze on the ground. No matter where he glanced, he’d make eye contact with either a council member or a knight, neither favourable. Honestly, being sent to the gallows would be a less painful punishment than this awkward silence. Though, as he stood there, he couldn’t help but drift into thought… Why am I here?
“Anthony Po. You understand why you have been brought before me today, correct?” King Mohan’s voice boomed, echoing across the throne room. Anthony slowly lifted his head and nodded silently.
“This may be the last time you ever get to speak. You wish to waste that opportunity?” Mohan raised an eyebrow, peering down at Anthony.
“If I may, Your Majesty, perhaps the criminal is intending to disrepect you by remaining silent? A childish display of resistance!” Another voice piped up, and Anthony huffed to himself as his eyes landed on Lord Patterson, one of Mohan’s few council members. Lord Patterson seemed to acknowledge the pair of eyes on him and his nose scrunched with evident disgust.
“You want me to speak?” Anthony’s mouth moved before his brain could register it, “I think my actions speak for themselves. The law enforcement in this kingdom is a disgrace, Your Majesty. Your knights lack both the experience and skill to protect those who cannot protect themselves… your innocent civilians are the ones who pay the price for their failures!”
He heard a few gasps from the council, and yet that only spurred him on further, “The knights preach the code of chivalry, but what is chivalry without honour? What is chivalry without courage? What is chivalry without the actions to back it up?”
The silence that followed felt as if the air had been sucked from the room, all eyes fixed on Anthony. His heart pounded against his ribcage as he took a deep breath to steady himself, “I’m aware that you’re going to kill me. But I hope that you also realise that when I die, BoFLandia’s only source of protection will die too. And that all of you are willing to endanger these people’s lives just to nurture your bruised egos... You can send me away now, I’ve said everything I wanted to.”
The entire room held their breath in anticipation, shifting their attention to King Mohan. He scanned Anthony up and down, contemplating. Suddenly, an enthusiastic round of applause broke out beside him. Anthony’s eyes immediately landed on the source of the sound: Princess Shirley. She sat next to her father, eyes gleaming with a combination of amazement and unbridled amusement as she leaned forwards. King Mohan sighed, though the fondness in his (albeit subtle) smile suggested he wasn’t truly irritated by her disruption.
“Alright, darling, I’m starting to understand now.”
He turned back to Anthony, rising from his seat.
“That was quite the speech. It seems you certainly care about the wellbeing of this kingdom. I must say though, I’ve never met anybody who was willing to challenge me directly…” He began, taking steps away from his throne until he was eye level with Anthony, “I must say, I’m impressed. That was an admirable display of courage. The truth is, I was not planning on executing you today.”
A couple of confused murmurs began to stir within the audience, and even Anthony couldn’t mask his surprise at the king’s words, “You… weren’t?”
King Mohan chuckled, a warm sound, “Of course not, or at least— Not before you have heard the offer I wish to make to you.”
Wow, Anthony thought, I’m being blackmailed by the king. This might be an original experience.
“My proposition for you, Sir Anthony, is that you join my brigade of knights. You show an allegiance to your kingdom and people that I think they— my knights, that is— could learn from. You will teach both veterans and squires, and nurture them until they are capable fighters such as yourself. For your co-operation you shall be rewarded extensively. Anything you should desire.”
Sir Anthony? Join the knights? Teach them? Anything I should desire?
“And just to confirm, if I refuse—”
“You die.”
“Right. Of course.”
King Mohan sure drives a hard bargain.
“Your Majesty!” Lord Patterson, flitting his gaze anxiously between King Mohan and Anthony, interjected, “Surely there is another way these knights can learn? Why must they rely on… him? I must say I preferred the original plan you had! If you should require someone to lead your knights, I would be honoured if-”
It was then that an older man, who had been quietly observing the spectacle, stepped forward with a gentle smile, “On the contrary, I find His Majesty’s idea to be most beneficial to what our kingdom needs most. Stability. While Sir Anthony may have been— well, a little unorthodox with his methods, it is clear he has BoFLandia’s best interest in mind. If our knights had even a half of his mindset, then perhaps people would not spend their nights in fear.”
King Mohan nodded sagely, “Thank you, John. I’m glad we share that perspective. Though, I must credit this idea to my daughter. Despite being very few in words, she certainly had a lot to say about Sir Anthony.” At this, Princess Shirley straightened, visibly flustered. She shook her head vigorously at her father, who only chuckled quietly in response. Anthony, on the other hand, was too lost in thought to notice.
Alright, Anthony, you have two choices. You can swallow your pride, help the knights who mocked you, do some good for your people. Or you can die being a stubborn jackass, indirectly killing everyone else by not being there to protect them. Decisions, decisions… Who am I kidding?
“Your Majesty,” Anthony started, slowly lowering himself onto one knee, “I will accept your offer. I’ll be the best knight this kingdom has ever known, a true protector of the people.”
King Mohan smiled down approvingly at him, “Then it is settled. From now on, you are Sir Anthony, the palace’s most trusted knight. Shirley, darling, you may do the honours! It should be good practice for when you take the throne.”
The sound of hurried footsteps grew louder, until a pair of leather boots entered his eyeline. When Anthony glanced up, Princess Shirley was stood before him with a bashful smile and rosied cheeks. In her hands was a remarkable sword, amethyst encrusted in its hilt — surely custom made especially for her. Gingerly, she raised the sword and tapped it against one of Anthony’s shoulder, before repeating the action on his other.
“You may rise, Sir Anthony.” It was a quiet command — so much so that Anthony would’ve missed it entirely had it not been for the fact he’d seen Princess Shirley’s lips moving. It was strangely intimate, like those words were sacred and she had chosen for him and him alone to be entrusted with them.
Anthony slowly rose, an applause slowly building from the onlookers. He was a knight now, a real knight. Despite himself, a warm rush of pride washed over him and he found himself unable to suppress a small smile.
Perhaps this wouldn’t be too bad…
PRESENT DAY
“The princess has gone missing.”
“WHAT?” Anthony couldn’t help the outburst that followed, causing Lord Advisor Chungus to jump. The knight frowned apologetically, lowering his voice to a murmur, “Sorry, John. What do you mean… she’s gone missing?”
The sun had been setting when Lord Advisor Chungus had intercepted Anthony as he was leaving the palace to return to his land. Over their months working together, John Chungus and Anthony had developed a close friendship, though they could only address each other so informally behind closed doors.
Lord Advisor Chungus shook his head gravely, “We suspect she has been captured. Whether it be a neighboring kingdom who is trying to intimidate His Majesty, or a rogue who wants money, we are unsure.”
Princess Shirley? Captured?
“Does anybody else know about this?” Anthony asked, though he had a vague guess on the answer he would receive judging by the secrecy of their conversation. The repeated head shaking of his friend only confirmed this.
“Only myself and the closest confidants of His Majesty’s court. We do not wish to stir any fear amongst the general public.”
It made sense. After the BoFLandia invasion attempt, the last thing the kingdom needed was another reason to be attacked. No princess means no heiress. In turn, no heiress means that should something mysteriously happen to King Mohan (see: he dies), it would be easy for BoFLandia to fall into the clutches of another ruler.
“We plan on placing the kingdom on lockdown tomorrow for safety measures. Then we shall make the announcement,” Lord Advisor Chungus continued, “His Majesty insisted you needed to know. It is you he wants to lead the rescue team.”
Anthony stared at him for a few moments in silence, waiting for the punchline. Him? Lead a rescue team for the princess? Sure, he was a significantly better fighter than his peers, and he’d consider himself a damn good leader, but did that really make him the perfect candidate?
“He… does? Me?” Anthony questioned with faux innocence.
“Your attempt at modesty is laughable, Sir Anthony.” John smiled knowingly, “But I think you know as well as I that you are the perfect contender for this mission. His Majesty certainly sees that too.”
Well, when he puts it like that… Wait—
“How am I supposed to find Princess Shirley with no leads?” Anthony stressed, “Is there really nothing we can follow? Any witnesses? Also, I’ll need reinforcements! What if I’m attacked? Killed?”
Lord Advisor Chungus listened like he always did: with a thoughtful expression and his full attention. He thought for a moment, before clicking his fingers together. An idea was brewing.
“Well, His Majesty’s only condition was that you lead the search and rescue of Her Highness. He never said specifically that you alone had to complete this quest. Our knights will be out of commission, since they are designated to protect the town and reassure our civilians. My suggestion? Gather a party. Go and find some townspeople who are willing to join you on your crusade!”
Anthony groaned, running a hand down his face, “So I’m supposed to walk up to these people who will already be— and rightfully so— scared out of their minds from the news of a missing princess and say… what, exactly? ‘Hey! I know you’re terrified, but would you be willing to risk your life for your kingdom?’ Nobody will agree, John—”
He was cut off by a gently hand on his shoulder. Oh boy, Anthony sighed internally, he’s going to give me a speech, isn’t he?
“You told me stories when you first started here on how you’ve tried to start an adventurer’s guild. How you were rejected time and again by those around you. You’re right that people will be afraid. But for a few, this fear will give way to something else. Determination! Those who are willing will reveal themselves to you… Let them.” John squeezed his shoulder affectionately.
Anthony opened his mouth to interrupt, but John continued firmly, “The fate of Her Highness rests on your shoulders. I know that mustn’t be easy to hear, but it’s true. You are this kingdom’s hope, Anthony. And I truly, whole-heartedly believe that you can do whatever you put your mind to.”
Huh, that was… actually very uplifting.
“I see why you’re ‘Lord Advisor Chungus’ now. Thanks, John.” For the first time in a while, Anthony smiled and truly meant it. John mirrored him, letting his hand drop from Anthony’s shoulder, instead patting his back.
“It’s what I do best. Now, you should go and get some rest. You need to be in the best of spirits for your recruitment process tomorrow!”
The two bid farewell, with Lord Advisor Chungus retreating back into the palace. As Anthony wandered down the path towards the palace gates, he admired the sight of the town in the far distance. Dusk was approaching, so most of the townspeople would have turned in for the night, and yet Anthony couldn’t help but wonder — Are there people like me out there? Watching the moon rise every night? Wanting more? Although the answer was unclear, he felt a warmth in his chest at the mere idea of it.
But tomorrow could wait — even just briefly. For now, he was content gazing up at the stars on his journey home.
Little did he know, that three others were looking up at the very same night sky, their four paths waiting to cross.