Time slowed.
No—it felt as if it had stopped altogether.
Even now, the relentless assaults from the Bone Lord and the Church of Morte rained down from all sides. Bone shards scattered everywhere. A gaping wound in the Turncoat King's chest—one that seemed impossible to recover from.
"Ah… aaaaah…!"
Everything reflected in the Turncoat Queen's eyes felt unreal.
But this was reality.
Cruel, unbearable reality.
"Your Majestyyyy!"
Her scream echoed once more as the wings of petals blooming from her shoulders wrapped around both herself and the Turncoat King.
THUMP!
BOOOM!
The following barrage from the Bone Lord and the Church of Morte pounded against her petal barrier, but the Queen clenched her teeth and endured.
"Just a little longer… Please, hold on…!"
She stared at the hollow cavity in the King's chest.
It was just a single hole.
Normally, such a wound wouldn't even count as an injury for a bone-parasite creature…
"Why, why, why…!"
Why wasn't the wound healing, even with all her restorative efforts?
Crackle—
Instead, the King's essence continued to disperse from the gaping hole in his chest.
Incredibly, impossibly, the Turncoat King was dying—all from a single bullet.
"Why…?"
Normally, bone-parasite monsters reabsorbed destroyed parts of themselves mid-battle and reconstructed them.
It was instinctual, efficient.
But the wound in the Turncoat King's chest had completely annihilated a portion of him—leaving nothing to reabsorb.
It wasn't just the heart that was lost—it was his being.
And worse, the void in his chest gnawed at his very existence, like a physical manifestation of the malice of Ark's humans.
Human technology had become far more dangerous than the Turncoat Queen had ever imagined.
CRASH!
BOOM!
The Bone Lord and the Church's attacks didn't stop.
The Queen's flower barrier was formidable, but not limitless.
Crack!
CRRRAAACK!
Fissures began to run through the barrier. Bone dust scattered.
The petals began to collapse.
She might've maintained the shield longer had she focused solely on defense—but she had poured nearly everything into trying to heal the King.
"Ghh… ngh…!"
Where had it all gone wrong?
She'd waited so long. Planned every step.
Everything had been perfect.
Yes, there had been some sacrifices, but the hunt had gone smoothly, and soon, the true ruler would have been chosen.
She knew the real disruption had started with the Church's interference.
But even deeper—
"…Pawn."
No—Carl Marcus.
Had it not been for him, things would never have gone this far.
At the very least, had that petty man not betrayed them—
CRACKLE—CRACK!
The barrier shattered completely.
Just then, the unconscious Turncoat King slowly opened his eyes.
"Your Majesty!"
"…How disgraceful."
"No! You did it to protect me, didn't you?"
The King rose.
Though the hole in his chest remained, he seemed unbothered.
"…You must conserve your strength."
"There's no time for that."
His condition was dire—anyone could see that.
But the Queen said nothing more.
As if on cue, the flower barrier disintegrated completely.
CRRRAAACK!
Through the broken sky, bone tendrils and lightning poured down.
The assault had resumed.
"Your Majesty, let me—!"
"Stand down."
With a single gesture, the King pushed her back.
Crackle, crunch…
Bone tendrils burst from the King's body in a furious surge.
His tendrils met the oncoming storm of the Bone Lord and the Church.
RRRRRAAAANG!
The impact rocked the battlefield.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
The shockwave was so powerful that it swept away not just the Church of Morte's forces, but even the Bone Lord's tendrils.
"GAAAH!"
"Hold the line!"
Even the zealots of the Church, usually immune to pain, screamed.
Some were blown apart entirely by the sheer force of the impact.
No matter how mad they were, humans remained flesh and blood—and that kind of loss, both physical and mental, was devastating.
Slide—
A moment of chaos.
The King didn't waste it.
He raised his hand skyward.
It might've seemed meaningless—but nothing the Turncoat King did was meaningless.
Crackle…
Bone—more bone—then more bone.
A vast, towering mass of tendrils erupted from his hand, spreading across the sky like they meant to swallow the heavens.
"Your Majesty…"
The Queen trembled.
In awe.
RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE!
The tendrils blotted out the entire Bone Lord's domain.
They were only shadows—but they cast a darkness that seemed to consume all.
A force that dominated, and claimed.
It mirrored the Bone Lord.
No—surpassed him.
"O King…"
Her shoulders trembled with reverence.
How could anyone witness this and not bow before their King?
As his hand moved gently, the massive network of tendrils surged toward the Bone Lord.
[ROOOAAAAAR!]
But this was the Bone Lord's realm.
He wouldn't be so easily overrun.
"…Purge the heretics!"
The Church, briefly stunned, rallied once more.
Flames ignited.
Holy light pierced the darkness.
Poison mists spread across the field.
Even greater blessings than before.
Now, not just priests—but archbishops were entering the fray.
It would've been wise to retreat.
Facing both the Bone Lord and the Church head-on was folly.
But the King did not retreat.
No—he pressed forward.
BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!
Tendril-rain—shaped like thorns—poured from the sky.
Not even umbrellas or armor could stop it.
CRACKLE!
CRACKLEEEE!
Priests of the Church screamed, impaled by the descending thorns.
Even with blessings of the serpent—they were still human.
Each thorn carried the King's essence—too potent to survive.
Death swept the field.
STAB!
SPLURCH!
The ground turned red.
But the rain didn't stop.
It wouldn't stop.
Not until it consumed everything.
"A… ahhh…"
The Bone Lord, too, couldn't escape it.
No—especially the Bone Lord.
[KROOOAAAAR!]
With a roar, his tendrils blasted the thorns aside.
Then he expanded his domain—challenging the King's invasion.
SHKSHKSHK!
CRRRACK-CRACK-CRACKLE!
If the King ruled the sky, the Bone Lord now ruled the earth.
It was a battle of domains.
No longer a fight between monsters—but forces of nature.
RUMBLE RUMBLE!
The King's sky shuddered.
The Bone Lord's ground quaked.
Earthquakes. Eruptions.
And then—the Church's bishops joined the fray, intensifying the onslaught.
The King now faced both enemies at once.
"Your Majesty…"
The Queen, struggling to recover, watched the sky.
Even amid awe, dread lingered in her heart.
'That hole in his chest… it's still there.'
He could've healed it.
He should've healed it.
But he hadn't.
Which meant…
"…No…"
He wasn't refusing to heal it—he couldn't.
Maybe he could've, if he'd focused only on recovery.
But surrounded as he was, he had no such luxury.
His life force—was fading.
She realized it too late.
"No!"
The Queen gritted her teeth, trying to reach him—but in her state, she would only hinder him.
She might even endanger him again, as before.
"This can't be. This can't be. This can't be…!"
In despair, she shoved bone fragments and debris into her mouth, trying to regain her strength.
Dignity didn't matter.
If she was too late—everything would be lost.
Crack—crack…
As she slowly recovered—
"There you are."
A voice too familiar.
She turned, startled.
She hadn't even noticed him approach.
But she recognized him instantly.
"Pawn—no, Carl Marcus…!"
The man who brought the King to the brink had finally appeared.
Because now, the prey was weak—wounded.
It was time to strike.
"How dare you show yourself… I'll kill you where you stand."
Bone thorns sprouted from her body as she growled.
It wasn't like her to threaten so clumsily.
But even that was necessary now.
"I have a proposal."
"…I'm not interested."
She lunged—
"I can save the Turncoat King."
At those words, she froze.
===BREAK===
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