What had once been solid ground was now a broken wasteland of shattered stone, craters, and burning fissures. The clash between the Shadow Legion and the forces of the Monarch of Iron Body was cataclysmic.
From above, it looked like darkness was slowly swallowing a dying flame.
Arthur's Marshals led the shadow legion perfectly, tearing through the ranks of the forces of the monarch of monstrous humanoids almost effortlessly.
Igris was a storm of steel, surrounded at all times, yet never ever touched. His blade danced, deflecting, cutting, dismantling every opponent that dared approach. The ground around him was layered in corpses, yet more came, driven forward by their Monarch's power.
It didn't matter, they all fell the same.
Further into the chaos,
Doom only knew violence, he kept launching himself high into the sky, higher than anything of his size should have been able to reach, his massive frame silhouetted briefly against the sky before he came crashing down like a meteor. The impact alone erased everything beneath him, bodies crushed into nothing, entire sections of the battlefield collapsing inward from the sheer force.
He didn't stop.
A monstrous sound tore from him as he moved again, his fists slamming into anything that still moved. Each punch left behind craters filled with broken bodies, mountains of corpses stacking higher and higher as he tore through the enemy ranks like a force of destruction.
Even the high orcs, empowered, armored, burning with green flames, couldn't do anything.
The shadow demons were made for war, they reveled in the blood of their enemies, they were far weaker than the Marshals, but they were still an unstoppable force.
And then,
Galatea.
She stood completely still as four figures surrounded her, Armored high orcs larger than the rest, the Generals of their army, their bodies reinforced by thick, jagged plating, green flames bleeding from the cracks in their armor. Their presence was oppressive, each one radiating the direct power of the Monarch of Iron Body.
These were the chosen elite.
They circled her slowly, axes dragging against the ruined ground, sparks trailing behind them as they moved.
One of them stepped forward, his voice rough,
"You stand alone," he growled. "Are you broken… or simply stupid puny shadow?"
Another laughed,
"We saw you kill those soldiers of ours, but it doesn't matter because you can't kill us. And it is good that you can regenerate, we'll break you over and over, until our Monarch kills yours."
Galatea didn't respond, she didn't even look at them properly.
That, more than anything, irritated them.
The first orc snarled, tightening his grip on his weapon.
"Destroy her."
They attacked as one.
Four massive figures lunging forward, axes raised high, flames flaring brighter as they brought their weapons down with enough force to split mountains.
The strikes landed, and shattered. The axes did.
The impact rang out, cracks splintering through the weapons as if they had struck something far beyond their capacity to break. Fragments scattered across the ground.
Silence followed.
Galatea tilted her head slightly, as if finally acknowledging them.
Then, she smiled.
"…I was hoping for something better," she said, her voice almost bored. "I thought these little shits might actually be a challenge.."
Her eyes violet glow intensified.
"How disappointing.."
They didn't even have time to react.
She took one step, closing the distance instantly.
Her fist drove forward, punching clean through the chest of the nearest orc, the impact blowing out his back in an explosion of shattered armor and flesh. Before his body even hit the ground, she had already turned, her leg snapping upward in a brutal arc that took another one's head clean off, sending it spinning through the air like discarded scrap.
The third tried to retreat.
He didn't get far, she caught him by the face, her grip tightening just enough, and crushed it.
The last one roared, attacking her once again in desperation, flames surging wildly around him.
Galatea didn't even bother dodging.
She stepped into the attack, her hand snapping out and catching his hand, stopping it dead. Her grip tightened, crushing his hand.
Her other hand came up, all it took was a single punch and he was gone.
Reduced to nothing more than broken remains scattered across the battlefield.
She exhaled softly, brushing imaginary dust from her shoulder as if mildly inconvenienced.
"…Waste of time."
Across the battlefield,
The Monarch of Iron Body watched.
He felt panic.
His army was collapsing, far too fast.
Every fallen soldier rose again, their shadows twisting, reforming, turning against him. The numbers he had once relied on, the overwhelming force that defined his power were being stolen and used against him.
"This… this isn't right…" he muttered, his massive form shifting, eyes darting across the battlefield.
'Where were they?'
'Where were the others?'
'This wasn't how it was supposed to go.'
His gaze swept across the chaos again, searching and waiting, hoping they would appear and follow the original plan.
Nothing, no reinforcements, no other presences.
No sign of the other Monarchs.
It was only him.
And the Shadow Monarch.
His breath hitched.
"I…"
His eyes widened.
"I was used.."
The words felt wrong even as he said them.
"They… they needed to see..."
How strong he was.
How strong the Shadow Monarch had become.
Rage consumed him, but it was hollow now, buried beneath something far more dangerous.
Fear of Death.
"…They sacrificed me."
A Shadow appeared, right in front of him.
Arthur.
The impact came instantly, a kick, fast and devastating slamming into the Monarch's torso with enough force to crack his armor, the sound echoing like thunder as his massive body was launched backward. He tore through his own ranks, crushing dozens of his own soldiers beneath him before crashing into the ground in a violent skid.
Pain surged through him, he grunted, forcing himself up, his breath heavy, uneven.
And then he saw him, Arthur approached slowly and calmly.
Shadow armor wrapped around his body, his helmet concealed everything except the menacing glow of his eyes.
The Monarch of Iron Body's chest rose and fell as he stared at him,
"…This is bad.." he muttered under his breath.
He understood that he wasn't fighting a war. he was losing one.
As Arthur got closer to him.
"WAIT!" The Monarch yelled, the word came out rough and forced. He raised a hand, palm open, not in surrender yet.
"Monarch of Shadows… just listen."
Arthur didn't stop immediately, but he slowed, that alone gave the Monarch a narrow opening, and he took it.
"We've both been used," he said, voice tightening. "This battle, this entire clash.. it was never meant to end with one of us walking away. They needed to see you and to measure you. It seems I was nothing more than bait."
His jaw clenched, anger written all over his expression.
"They never planned to help me. They are watching us and waiting, letting this play out so they could decide how to deal with you afterward."
Arthur said nothing, but he was attentive, weighing every word.
The Monarch took a step forward, lowering his hand slightly as his tone shifted.
"This fight is pointless. We are wasting strength tearing each other apart while the real enemy stands back, untouched." His gaze hardened. "You felt it too, didn't you? The fact that no one came, they want us both away from the picture."
"They set us against each other! Me to test you, they used me to get you weakened." His voice dropped, "But it doesn't have to end this way."
"We can turn this around."
Arthur's spear lifted slightly,
The Monarch continued anyway.
"With the Dragon Monarch, we could crush them before they make their move. You know it as well as I do... we share the same enemies now. The Rulers… and the other Monarchs the ones hiding behind this deception." His eyes locked onto Arthur's. "We should be allies!"
Arthur tilted his head slightly, the faint glow beneath his helmet sharpening.
"Yeah," he said calmly. "I noticed."
The Monarch blinked, caught off guard.
"You… noticed?"
Arthur took a step forward, the ground beneath his boots cracking faintly under the pressure of his presence.
"I knew you were waiting," he said, voice almost casual. "Dragging this out, watching, expecting your friends to show up."
He took another step.
"Reinforcements."
The Monarch's expression tightened.
"That never came," Arthur continued, "Your bit more than you can chew."
Arthur's spear angled more directly toward him now, lightning crackling louder.
"They used you," he admitted, almost dismissively. "That part's real."
For a moment, validation flickered across the Monarch of Iron body's face, and died instantly.
Arthur's voice turned cold.
"But don't twist that into something it's not."
"You still came here," he said quietly. "You still brought your army. And you still planned to kill me."
Each word stripped away the Monarch's argument.
"And now that it didn't go your way…" Arthur tilted his head slightly, a faint edge creeping into his voice. "You want me to forget that, forgive that?"
The Monarch's expression darkened, pride beginning to claw its way back to the surface.
"Or what?" Arthur continued. "You think I'll lower my weapon because you realized too late that you were expendable to them?"
The crackle of lightning intensified, casting sharp flashes across the Monarch's face.
"Or you think I'm naive enough to believe we can suddenly work together?"
A faint, humorless breath left him.
"Don't make me laugh."
That was it, the last thread snapped.
"You arrogant son of.."
"Don't," Arthur cut in sharply.
The word hit like a blade.
"Don't lump me in with you."
The Monarch fell silent for a second,
Arthur's gaze never wavered.
"I don't need your help," he said. "And I definitely don't need theirs."
Now they stood within striking distance.
"If anything," Arthur added, "I should thank them."
The Monarch's eyes narrowed.
Arthur's grip tightened on his spear.
"They saved me the trouble of finding you later."
"I get to kill you now."
The words didn't need emphasis.
"And send a message."
The Monarch's entire body tensed, fury erupting as his pride surged back in full force, burning away the last traces of hesitation and fear.
"That all of you, are next."
"ARROGANT BASTARD!" Power exploded from him in a violent surge, green flames roaring to life as his form expanded, armor reinforcing itself with raw, burning energy.
This time, there was no negotiation left in his eyes.
Only fury and prideful defiance.
Arthur simply looked at him.
And then, almost bored,
"Good, since they are watching you die, you might as well go out in a flashy way."
/-\
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