A Duel of Absolute Stupidity

Darin was tired.

Not the normal kind of tired, like after a long day of mediocre blacksmithing. No, this was a deeper, soul-crushing exhaustion that came from spending way too much time trying to convince people he was not a legendary dark overlord.

And now, some idiot in shiny armor wanted to duel him.

Sir Roland stood in the middle of the village square, sword drawn, cape dramatically fluttering despite the complete lack of wind.

"Face me, Dark Lord!" Roland declared, his voice dripping with noble self-importance. "For the fate of the realm, I shall strike you down before your evil reign can begin!"

The crowd oohed.

The cultists gasped.

Darin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why is it always a prophecy? Why can't it be, 'Oh no, an evil overlord has returned! Let's just ignore him and see if he goes away!'"

The stranger—Darin was really going to have to get this guy's name at some point, knelt beside him. "Fear not, my lord. This so-called knight is no match for your power."

Darin turned to him, deadpan. "I have no power."

The stranger nodded solemnly. "Yes. Such wisdom."

Darin inhaled sharply through his nose, turned back to Roland, and plastered on his most polite, please-go-away smile.

"Sir Roland, was it?" he said as diplomatically as possible. "Look, I think there's been a misunderstanding. I'm not the Dark Lord. I'm just a guy. I forge horseshoes. Badly. The scariest thing about me is my financial situation."

Roland's eyes narrowed. "Your deception will not work on me, foul one! You may play the part of an innocent fool, but I know the truth!"

Darin let out a long, slow sigh. "Okay. Let's say, hypothetically, that I was the Dark Lord. Why would I be standing here, unarmed, completely out in the open, with no sign of an evil army?"

Roland hesitated. Then, his eyes lit up with realization.

"Clever," he murmured. "Of course…you wish to lull me into a false sense of security."

Darin twitched. "I really don't."

The knight took a step forward. "You know that if you reveal your power, it will only confirm your identity. And so, you pretend to be weak. But I see through your trickery."

"I am weak!" Darin yelled. "I tripped over a chicken this morning!"

Roland brandished his sword. "Enough! I will not be fooled!"

The villagers collectively backed away, forming a perfect circle around them.

"Oh, for—" Darin turned to Greta. "Do you want me to fight him?"

The old woman shrugged. "It would clear up a few things."

"No, it won't! If I win, they'll think I'm a monster, and if I lose, they'll think I'm holding back!"

Greta nodded sagely. "So you understand the prophecy well."

Darin resisted the urge to scream.

"Fine," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "You want a fight? Here's my counteroffer: no."

Roland's face twisted in disgust. "Cowardice does not suit you, Dark One."

Darin groaned. "Listen, Sir Sparkle-Cape, if I were truly an evil overlord, wouldn't I just vaporize you with dark magic right now?"

Roland smirked. "Ah, but you haven't."

"Yes! Because I don't have magic!"

"Or…because you fear what unleashing it would do."

Darin's eye twitched. "That is the dumbest—"

"Enough stalling!" Roland lunged forward, sword raised.

Darin's brain had exactly half a second to register this before sheer panic took over.

He did what any rational, highly-trained warrior would do in his situation.

He screamed and threw a chicken at him.

The chicken, who had been minding its own business just moments before—squawked in sheer betrayal as it was launched through the air.

Roland, caught completely off guard, let out an undignified yelp as the flapping mass of feathers collided with his face.

Chaos erupted.

The villagers gasped.

The cultists cheered.

The chicken, apparently not one to forgive insults, started pecking Roland's head with the fury of a thousand wronged ancestors.

"GET IT OFF!" the knight roared, wildly flailing his sword.

Darin stood there, slack-jawed. "That actually worked?"

The stranger beside him clasped his hands in awe. "A masterstroke, my lord. Using the most unassuming of creatures as a weapon…truly, your genius knows no bounds."

Darin snapped his head toward him. "That was not a plan! I panicked and grabbed the nearest throwable object!"

The stranger nodded solemnly. "Yes. A deception so deep, even you believe it was accidental."

Darin turned back to the fight, debating whether or not to bang his head against the nearest solid surface.

Roland, meanwhile, had managed to pry the chicken off his face. His helmet was missing, his hair was a mess, and his pride was in tatters.

"You fight…dishonorably," he panted, glaring at Darin.

Darin threw his arms up. "I threw a chicken!"

"Exactly." Roland scowled. "No honorable warrior would ever stoop to such tactics."

Darin stared at him, then slowly turned toward the gathered villagers.

"Are…are we actually going to pretend that I'm the crazy one here?"

Greta hummed in thought. "It was rather unconventional."

"Oh, for—" Darin threw up his hands. "Fine! You want a proper duel? How about this?" He jabbed a finger at Roland. "You take one step closer, and I will throw another chicken."

Roland hesitated.

Darin pointed dramatically at a nearby coop. "I have an unlimited supply."

The knight's eyes darted to the chickens. Then back to Darin.

Darin saw the moment hesitation set in.

"…This isn't over," Roland growled, sheathing his sword. "You may have won this battle, but the war is far from decided."

Darin let out a relieved breath. "Great. Let's agree that the war starts somewhere else and preferably never."

Roland glared at him one last time before mounting his horse and riding off in a huff.

The villagers erupted into cheers.

"All hail the Dark Lord!"

Darin groaned. "No. No more hailing. Stop that."

Greta leaned on her cane. "Well, boy, I think it's safe to say you passed the duel."

"I didn't duel him. The chicken did."

She nodded sagely. "Yes. And what does that tell you?"

"That I should throw chickens more often?"

"That fate itself bends to your will."

Darin squeezed his eyes shut. "I hate everything."

The stranger clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Worry not, my lord. The world may not yet understand your greatness, but soon, they shall see."

Darin opened his eyes and fixed him with a tired stare. "I threw a chicken."

The stranger nodded solemnly. "Yes. And you won."

Darin's soul quietly left his body.