The King stood tall.
A silver-headed arrow streaked across the throne room, its gleaming tip catching the light as it hurtled toward the King's head.
But he was ready.
With a swift sidestep, he evaded the projectile and surged forward.
Two men charged to meet him. The clash of steel rang through the chamber as swords collided in a deadly exchange.
Blocking the first attacker's blade with his own, the King raised his armoured forearm to deflect the second strike, narrowly escaping the edge. Without giving them a chance to press the advantage, he spun around the second attacker and slashed at his back—but the man rolled forward, just barely evading the strike.
Even before the King's blade had completed its arc, and before the second attacker hit the ground, the first swordsman pivoted and thrust his weapon forward. At that exact moment, a volley of arrows rained down.
The King sidestepped again—but he was a fraction too slow. The sword tip struck his right oblique. Though it didn't pierce the armour, it knocked him off balance. In that same heartbeat, one arrow found its mark—piercing through the armor on his left calf and biting into flesh.
Warm blood trickled down his leg. Faced with three Ascended opponents, the King wasted no more time.
He activated one of his abilities.
King's Presence Ability Description: [ Upon activation, those around you are momentarily stunned, unable to move. ]
The two swordsmen froze mid-motion, caught in the grip of his power.
Seizing the moment, the King dashed toward the archer.
Another volley of arrows cut through the air in desperation—but too late. Despite being of the same Rank and Stage, the archer barely registered the golden flash before the sword plunged into his chest.
Blood spurted from his lips as his body buckled. Darkness consumed his vision, and when the King tore his blade free, the lifeless corpse collapsed.
"One down," the King muttered.
Without pause, his gaze shifted to the remaining swordsmen. Rage darkened their expressions as they stared at their fallen comrade.
Then—white sparks flickered around one of them. His skin hardened, shifting in texture until it resembled solid stone. He had activated his ability.
Body of Stone Ability Description: [ Your body becomes as hard as stone. Attribute: Moderate Physical Damage Reduction. ]
A moment later, the second swordsman unleashed his own power. The air twisted and churned around his blade. With a sweeping strike, he launched a razor-sharp arc of wind toward the King.
The King didn't flinch.
He stood firm, golden sword raised. At the perfect moment, the blade shimmered and cut through the magical attack, dispersing it effortlessly.
The second swordsman's eyes widened in shock.
He hadn't known—the golden sword possessed a passive enchantment that allowed its wielder to deflect magical attacks.
The King gave them no time to recover. In a blink, he closed the distance. The two men steadied themselves, setting hesitation aside.
They met him head-on.
Steel clashed with steel. The sharp ring of metal echoed through the throne room. Sparks burst as blades struck with brutal force. The King's golden sword slammed into the stone-skinned opponent—but to no effect. The man's hardened body absorbed the blow entirely.
Abandoning his wind-based technique, the second attacker brought his sword down directly. The strike landed, but the King's armour held.
Meanwhile, from the shadows, Cedric watched, frozen in place. Sweat streamed down his face. His hands trembled at his sides.
His heart thundered with every clang of metal.
"Should I join the fight?" he thought.
But the answer was obvious.
If three Ascended couldn't bring down the King—what chance did he have?
His knees buckled. He could barely stand. He watched, helpless and bewildered, as the battle raged on.
The three men fought with everything they had, each movement driven by battle-hardened instinct. Their blades met again and again, a blur of fury and desperation.
And yet—something gnawed at the two attackers.
They had faced countless foes. But this—this defied reason.
"How?" one of them thought. "How can a single man stand against three of equal rank—now two—and still hold his ground?"
The King knew the answer.
He felt it—his mana dwindling to dangerous levels.
Unbeknownst to his enemies, he had been passively sustaining a second ability throughout the battle.
Last Stand Ability Description: [ You grow stronger the more enemies you face. ]
It had given him the edge, enhancing his strength, speed, and endurance. But the price was steep. The mana drain was relentless.
Still, he could see it in his opponents. They were slowing. Their strikes lacked power. Their stamina waned.
They too were reaching their limits.
It was now a battle of endurance.
The throne room, once alive with the sharp music of steel, now rang with laboured breaths and desperate grunts. The end drew near.
Then, the air changed.
Heavy and suffocating—a wave of invisible pressure descended on the chamber.
Faces paled, and eyes widened at the sudden change.
"What is this presence?!"
A lone figure entered the room.
He was tall, clad in dark grey armour, and a double-edged sword rested casually on his shoulder.
There was something unnatural about him—something that made the air itself ripple. The sheer force of his presence left no doubt.
This man was of Transcended Rank.
Light and space bent subtly around him. Aldric's instincts screamed for him to run—to flee. But he had long since abandoned fear.
He met the man's eyes and stood his ground.
"I should be flattered," the King said, his lips curling into something close to a smile. "They knew better than to send mere Ascended to kill me."
But his heart pounded, each beat thunderous.
The stranger glanced at the archer's corpse, his expression unreadable.
"Weak," he muttered with disgust.
And then—he vanished.
A moment later, pain exploded in Aldric's leg.
The Transcended warrior reappeared behind him, his blade buried in the back of the King's knee.
Aldric collapsed. His breath hitched. He hadn't even seen it happen.
"Teleportation."
The realisation struck him like a hammer.
The King's eyes widened slightly as he realised—the man could've ended his life in an instant, but chose not to.
He chose to cripple him. To humiliate him.
Slow, deliberate footsteps circled the fallen King. The warrior halted in front of him, peering down into his eyes.
"Any last words?"
Aldric lingered in silence. Memories flashed—of battles won, friends lost. For the briefest moment, an image of his son, Daemon, surfaced.
Then, he pushed it aside.
"No." he responded, his eyes locked with the man standing above him.
For the first time in years, his lips curved to something resembling a genuine smile.
And in that moment—his head fell from his shoulders.