Renegade Reborn by J. C. Fiske

slay the Man-Phoenix, and the Man-Dragon to bring order to this universe?” Lamik asked.
    “I would.” Ranto said.
    “Just, on a whim? There must be a reason, there must be,” Lamik started, but Ranto interrupted him, as if he had been waiting for such a question.
    “I will not allow others to be touched by the same chaos as I have. I will embody absolute order, and hunt down the agents of chaos at every turn, and fulfill my true father’s dream . . . a world free from evil.” Ranto said.
    “Then you, can do what I never could . . . what Drakearon has done, is taken a vast measure. It will take an equally vast measure, to stop him, once and for all. It will take a monster, to destroy a monster. Son, I support you, this, my brothers, this, this is what I’ve been talking about, new ideas, radical ideas for a radical world. Son, I will not fight you. Rather, I will give unto you, the leadership you demand. Here I, Lamik Strife, in front of many witnesses, bestow, Ranto Strife, my only son, the title of Strife Chieftain.” Lamik said. “Kneel before me son,”
    “Kneel? KNEEL!? Ranto scoffed. He then grabbed his father by the hair and he dragged him across the room.
    “What, AGH! What, what are you doing?” Lamik screamed.
    “In your last moments, you dropped your convictions just to save your life. There’s no room for someone like you in my world. You said it yourself father, it takes a monster, to kill a monster, and by my real father, I met Chieftain Narroway, the greatest man I’ve ever known.” Ranto said, and with two massive hands, he lifted his father up into the air, and with a huge eruption of fire, he blew apart his father’s body, splashing his hot blood, meat, and sinew atop the unfortunate onlookers.
    “No . . . NO! HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU!” Bosto screamed as he lifted up the table, flung it directly at Ranto, and charged at him like an enraged bull. Ranto caught the flipped table by one leg, spun about once, and careened the edge of the table straight into the oncoming, Bosto, felling him, and opening up his forehead.
    As Bosto fought for consciousness, Ranto moved toward him, picking up Manon under one arm on the way as if he were a toddler.
    “I don’t think you understand. This army I need, we are no longer Strife’s. We strip away from ourselves all morals, all belief, all honor, in order to achieve one’s end. We endure. We are now a country without borders, an army representing a mission, not an ideal, and anyone who gets in the way . . . dies.
    You ancient husks have no place in my new world, so, I give you the mercy, to die in this one. Farewell.” Ranto said, as he lifted Manon by both of his legs, threw his body back over his shoulders, and swung him down like a warhammer, smashing the old Strife’s head straight down onto Bosto’s head, then, reared back, and did it again. Over and over this went until the screams stopped, and both the outsides and insides of the old Strife’s noggins lay shattered across the floor like smashed watermelon.
    Upon finishing, Ranto tossed Manon’s body aside as if he were discarding a broken lawn tool, then, turned to face the four remaining Strife. Without thinking, all four Strife dropped to one knee in reverence.
    “Inform the others that their leader and council are dead. From this day, we are no longer Strife. We are, The Order, and I want every voice within the camp screaming these next words far into the night, to show their loyalty. If I don’t hear their loyalty, consider them an enemy, and deal with them as such,” Ranto said.
    “Wha . . . what do you want said, Chief?” Quil asked.
    “All hail, Ranto,” Ranto said.
    Without wasting a second, the four young Strife ran out into the village, screaming the news and ordering the phrase, and within minutes, the forest was alive with one chant, one melody, one phrase . . .
    “All HAIL, RANTO! ALL HAIL, RANTO!”

 
    Chapter Five: The Goat Man Cometh
     
    “I still, for the