With his arms wrapped tightly around the neck of the man-beast T’Chuka squeezed and squeezed as hard as he could. But not even the strength of a Tiger was enough to stop Woodwose. For a few moments he flailed about wildly, not knowing how to counter T’Chuka’s attack, but he soon found a way. Using nothing more than sheer brute force he reached around, grabbed T’Chuka’s head and threw him high into the air. He then looked around at his shoulder and could see a few droplets of blood. This only served to fuel his anger.
Ultare Amarus flew ahead, his hands smouldering, about to unleash his power on Woodwose when his attack finished before it started. The flying form of T’Chuka crashed into him sending both of them crashing to the ground, sending T’Chuka into unconsciousness and Amarus into dizziness.
Above the battle site White Knight sat on his steed Galador. The path of destruction caused by Woodwose was easy to see, but it was hard to look upon his fallen comrades. Only Amarus was on his feet, and he was staggering around as if he’d been turning in circles for an hour. He was worse than useless.
White Knight commanded Galador to land in a nearby clearing and then sent him away, not wanting his old friend to get hurt in the upcoming battle. White Knight then took Excalibur in his hand and marched towards Woodwose.
Immediately his thoughts turned to their last encounter. Master swordsman that he was he could not overcome Woodwose. Not even mighty Excalibur could penetrate his skin. Woodwose just tossed him away like he was a piece of rubbish.
But now was different. White Knight was wiser. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes this time around. Or so he thought.
This time he ran towards Woodwose, sword held high. This time he was faced by an oncoming flying three. He only just ducked out of the way in time.
But now he was lying on the ground. He turned over only to find Woodwose standing over him. His huge frame blocked out the sun entirely. In the darkness White Knight found it difficult to see. But he could see Woodwose raise one of his huge legs. White Knight could tell what was coming next. He was about to become the man-beast equivalent of road kill.
But it never happened. The mighty foot stopped in mid-air. He could see Woodwose turn his head, looking behind him. He couldn’t see much else. The sun was now shining in his eyes. But he heard something. A familiar and welcome voice.
“Hey! Fur-face! Why don’t you come and play with the big boys?”
Woodwose turned around. He knew that voice. He knew it well. It was the one he was looking for. The one who beat him before. The one who sent him to that place. The once who made him suffer. The man.
Leaving White Knight lying on the ground and forgetting him almost instantly Woodwose stared at his next opponent. He did not know his name, but he recognised his face. Elsewhere he was known as James Watt.
But Woodwose paused. Why he did not know. Something had made him pause. What was it? A memory of his former life perhaps. A feeling of affection for this man standing in front of him, as if they had fought together before, in some battle.
But then it was gone. The memory was just fleeing, lasting only a few seconds. He then began to run towards Watt, gradually getting faster and faster with each stride. All Watt did was just stand there watching as the mighty man-beast ran towards him, his footfalls making a sound that could be heard for miles around.
And then it came, something Woodwose was not expecting, an attack from above, from above the one he sought revenge of. He looked up to see the female, Red Sun, firing her nova blasts at the ground in front of him. The ground began to burn, burn read hot, making it impossible for Woodwose to stand on it. He began to dance around as if he were seated on an old space hopper. Then Watt struck, dishing out the first blow. He lunged forward as fast as he could, barging into Woodwose’s mid-section, sending them both crashing through the forest. But then, with one might push, Woodwose pushed Watt off, sending him flying upwards into the sky. He soon regained control however and headed back towards the fight. It had begun.
With clear intent Magus marched into Craigmillar Castle. As usual Teddy was waiting for him, but for once Magus had no words for his companion. He marched directly into his study and sat down in his chair.
The events of the past few hours, and the next few hours, worried him deeply. He had seen what would happened and he wanted to stop it, but the First Law of Time made it impossible for him to do so. He had to carry out his role, even though it pained him to do so.
He then stood up and grabbed one of his many books. He soon found the page he was looking for. The thing he had found would serve it’s purpose, history’s purpose, but he did not want to use this item. But he knew he had to.
Memorizing the item in the book he soon left Craigmillar to carry out his role in the events unfolding.
The battle continued between the two powerhouses. Neither one could gain the advantage. It was a stalemate. Red Sun had wanted to join in the attack on Woodwose but Watt had told her to stay back. He had felt the full extent of his power before and he didn’t want his wife to feel that power as well. She meant more to him than life itself.
White Knight, meanwhile, had got to his feet and now approached the battle site. The first thing he saw was the two combatants exchanging blows, the likes of which he had never seen before. The nearest thing he had seen had been in a heavyweight title match four years previously.
The tide of the fight changed. After several blows Woodwose was gaining the upper hand as he continued to beat on Watt with all the rage and anger from every fibre of his being. Red Sun looked on in horror as she saw her husband being beaten in this way. She then saw White Knight approaching. Perhaps he could help Watt.
And try to help Watt he did. With Woodwose’s back turned towards him he raised his sword, the edge of the blade aimed at the dead centre of his back, between his massive shoulder blades. And with one swift movement he brought the sword down using as much power as he could to attack his opponent.
It had the desired effect. Excalibur had pierced Woodwose’s skin and drawn blood. There was a huge cry of pain from Woodwose, but it was enough to stop him attacking Watt.
But then he changed his attack. White Knight had hurt him, and now he would pay. With a swing of his arm he sent White Knight flying.
The distraction had worked. Watt had regained enough strength and composure to unleash a blow into Woodwose’s stomach. This winded him, but only momentarily. Woodwose reached down and grabbed Watt by the neck, holding him high in the air. He began to squeeze. He wanted to kill Watt in the same way he had killed Corkindale back at Dentonville. It felt good killing Corkindale, very good, and he wanted that feeling again, but try as he might he could not break Watt’s neck. His bone structure was now too strong for that. His bones could not be broken like a normal man’s bones, like Corkindale’s.
But he was still choking the life out of him. Watt tried to fight back but he could not. He was losing his strength, he was losing his power. He was losing this battle, a battle he thought could be his last.
And then he came. In the sky above Magus appeared. The one man who could stop Woodwose appeared above them. Magus had come to fulfil his role in history.
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