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“Sorry lad,” the Irishman shrugged, “birthright”
“ Really?”
Resting a diamond hoe against his shoulder, Arthur Daniels Game, the bastard who took Ireland- quirked his lips in a halfhearted grin. “Look man, I don’t know what to tell ya’. I got here, I took it.”
Wordlessly, Techno pointed to the sign. Claimed by Technoblade. “I repeat. Bruh.”
Arty, a twig of a man with arms thinner than the handle of his sword, examined the sign with a casual hum. “Claimed it is.” Slipping the tool off his arm, he leaned against it like a cane. All he was missing with the top hat and the skeezy carnie aesthetic would be complete. Suit, tie, and all. “Well, didn’t stop the U.K, did it now?”
“...”
“Anyways, I’mma get back to the farm. Feel free to take a look around Dublin. Don’t mind the Spire, she’s a bit shite; but I work with what I’ve got.”
Now, Techno didn’t like to curse. He avoided it where he could. But the onlt words to describe the current situation, being patronized by a brat he could snap in half with a wooden shovel, were what the fuck? “Sir-“
“Dan, please. Or Arty if you’d like.”
“Dan. I claimed this land. I intend to fight for it. I’m sure you’re a smart man, so I’m going to assume you know may know what may happen if you attempt to return fire.”
The bastard laughed. Actually laughed. Techno couldn’t remember the last time he’d been laughed at by a non-lesbian, and even less by someone he was threatening. If he wasn’t so stunned, he might’ve been impressed. “Alright, man. I’m tryin’ to be nice here. Chat is currently yellin’ for your blood, but I can see you must be new around here. So I’ll give you one more chance.” Tongue running along his tusk, he pulled the diamond axe from his hip, netherite armor gleaming in the woodland’s shade. “I hear Finland’s free. Or Jordan. Sure the Captain won’t put up much of a fight.”
“...” Arty, with all the fear of a honeybadger staring down a snake, blinked. “Sure thing. I’ll hand over the deed. Let me just grab it from the Spire, then.”
“Good choice.” Lowering his weapon, he gave a short nod, following the stick figure through the underbrush. “You’re always welcome to visit, of course. Could always use the labor.”
“Always happy to help,” Arty whistled, approaching a massive, twisting structure that seemed to touch the sky. It was ugly as sin. The wood door at the base clashed with the metallic point of the thing, but opened easy enough. With some careful design it could make a good defense tower. Add some arrow slits and a watchtower at the top. “Make yourself home, now- well, guess it is your home now.”
“Yeah.” Alright, he was feeling a little bad robbing this guy’s land now, considering the hospitality. Not enough to give it up, but a little bad. So instead he lingered awkwardly by the doorway, as Arty dug through some chests.
The room was a little dim, so Techno didn’t question when Arty asked him to on switch the lever by the door, the one clearly labeled ‘light ‘em’. And Arty seemed a little dim, so he didn’t question why he’d keep something important as the deed to the land in a marked chest on the first floor.
Techno’s people reading was also pretty dim, considering it took about a full ten seconds after the hiss of TNT started for him to register maybe Arty wasn’t dim. He was just fucking insane.
The world flared red like a match- oh, he gets the pun now, _ light em’ up_- as the ground beneath him gave way. It sizzled and hissed as the TNT went off, one blow, two- eight- the entire island began to crumple into the lava pool bellow, as explosions racked the earth.
Techno’s netherite armor broke. His fully. Enchanted. Netherite. Armor. Broke. It evaporated into dust, like the rest of items did as he sank into the lava pool bellow the emerald isles. Above he could see Arthur, casually, begin to punch through the obsidian he placed in the split second before the switch was fired. Something about the fact the man planned to have the obsidian, but no pickaxe, made his last agonizing moments in the lava all the more infuriating.
It took about fifteen seconds to respawn, halfway across the earth. It took another fifteen days for everyone to stop making fun of the message that appeared right after.
Technoblade was Blown Up by RT Game.
This didn’t just happen. It didn’t. Technoblade didn’t just. Die. It couldn’t have. No man would be insane enough to explode their entire island as a fail safe against a one man invasion. It must be chat fucking with his head. Or a premonition. Something-
Wilbur Soot: LMAO
Tommyinnit: laaaaaaameeeee
Philzaminecraft: oof mate
Philzaminecraft: wait
Philzaminecraft: doesn’t RT not have armor??
Wilbur Soot: Yep.
Tommyinnit: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Tommyinnit: WHO’s THE LOSER NOW BITCH BOYYY
...nope. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
Smajor1995: uh. Is it fair to assume this has something to do with why Ireland’s on fire?
Bluesdank: Ireland’s not on fire mate
Bluedank: it’s a fecking hole