I willed off my shadow mask. It dissolved, leaving my face bare. I pulled her close and kissed her. She kissed me back, clutching me as if she'd never let go.
I wanted her. More than I knew I could want anyone.
What happened next is a memory I will treasure forever.
I will live for her.
I will survive for her.
I will destroy for her.
I shall conquer in her name.
I will be her Dark Lord.
---
"Did you get that, Puff?"
The shapeshifter, now a monkey with oversized ears, scribbled furiously. His beady eyes went wide. "Wait—you slept with the Princess?"
"I asked her to marry me, and she agreed," I corrected, grinning like an idiot.
"But you wrote it like—" Puff read aloud, "'What happened next is a memory I will treasure forever.'"
I leveled a look at him. "Pervert. You're my scribe, not my critic. Write it down exactly. If I die or get captured, the world should know my story."
"Yes, Master." He lowered his head, though his ears twitched with barely contained laughter. Then he read again, overly dramatic:
> I will live for her. I will survive for her.
I will destroy for her.
I shall conquer in her name.
I will be her Dark Lord.
I coughed. "Old-school romantic. Last of my kind."
Puff blinked, unimpressed.
"Anyway. Add this: we're engaged. But to bring her here, I need to ascend into a true Deamune Dark Lord."
"How?"
"Easy. Absorb a hundred thousand souls. Then raise my Horde."
His jaw dropped. "You… can do that?"
I flashed a grin. "Watch and learn, padawan."
---
I faced my crystal body. "Now listen. When I merge, you morph into a fly, hide in my hair, and once we're back in the summoning ground, slip out unseen and wait for my signal."
"Yes, Master."
"Gooood, gooood," I rasped. Puff didn't get the Star Wars line. Again.
I inhaled deep and whispered across the veil: I'm going back now, my Princess. Wish me luck.
Her voice brushed my mind, tender and raw: Take care, my love. The future of our world depends on you. I love you.
I merged.
---
Agony.
Pure, suffocating agony as my essence slammed back into flesh. The Thorns of Ra coiled, digging hooks into my heart. I fought, twisted, split a fragment of myself loose—an instinctive trick, a survival skill I would never forget.
Then the pull tightened—
And I stood once more in the summoning ground.
Drums thundered. Hooded chanters circled. The air stank of incense and fear. They had expected a puppet. Instead, I returned standing, breathing, smiling.
Two leaders anchored the ritual:
On my right, bearded, eyes burning, dozens of spells dancing at his fingertips. Raw fire barely leashed.
On my left, calm, arms folded, aura honed like a blade.
The calm one unhooded. An elf—not radiant, not ethereal, but carved sharp as a weapon that had been honed too many times. His eyes were polished steel, reflecting me back colder than I imagined myself.
"The demons ensnared your heart," he said evenly. His voice was quiet, almost kind, and that made it worse. "But your mind… is still your own. For now."
His boots clicked softly as he circled me, each step measured, deliberate. He ran his thumb along his jawline—slow, as though sharpening an invisible blade.
"I am Grand Sorcerer Silas. Tell me your name."
I met his gaze. "My name is Aymagona."
A flicker—barely there—creased his brow. He already knew I lied.
"Lies corrode faster than truth," he murmured. "But they do reveal what a man fears to say."
"Yeah," I shot back. "Aymagona kick your ass if you don't free me."
That razor-thin smile curved his lips. Not amusement. Dissection.
Then my chest exploded.
The Thorns crushed my heart so violently I thought my ribs would shatter. I staggered, choking, clawing at the air. Eternity stretched in a single heartbeat of pain—then silence.
The pressure vanished, leaving me heaving on the ground.
Invisible force yanked me upright like a puppet. Silas hadn't lifted a finger. He only adjusted the cuff of his sleeve.
I spat blood and forced a grin. "Last warning. Walk away, and I forget this. Stay, and you burn."
He tilted his head, thumb tracing his jaw again, eyes dissecting me as though he were cataloguing the ways I might die.
"Fire," he murmured. "So predictable."
He raised one hand—just a fraction, just enough to remind me who held the chain.
"A-ah! Don't!" I blurted, playing panic. "I can summon a dragon, you know! A real one!"
Laughter broke the tension. A scoff rippled through the circle.
Silas's hand clenched. My heart buckled.
But this time, I was ready. I hardened the dark rope binding my heart, shielding it just enough to beat. Then I bellowed:
"DRAGON!"
---
The summoning ground erupted.
A nightmare of wings and fire tore into reality—shadow-dragon, eyes like burning pits, tail smashing the earth, a roar that shook the sky.
Panic shattered the ritual. Chanters screamed. Elemental threads snapped.
I seized the chaos. My body split into seven Avatars:
Sixty percent into my crystallized main form.
Ten percent each into Avatars One and Two—bait for Silas and the bearded mage.
Five percent each into Avatars Three through Six—strike squads for the chanters.
Seven visions at once. My skull throbbed. My mind stretched thin.
One charged Silas. Two met the bearded mage. Three through Six pounced on chanters, dragging them into my Dominion. Inside, I merged Three, Four, and Five into a single buffing engine, while Six fractured into five one-percent scouts.
The leaders responded instantly.
Silas's hand flicked—Avatar One screamed as half its body disintegrated in a storm of arcane knives. He hadn't even moved more than a finger.
The bearded mage unleashed fire and chain lightning in tandem, hammering Avatar Two to its knees.
I reeled. Their power wasn't just strong—it was surgical, merciless, honed over centuries.
Meanwhile, Puff fought to hold his dragon-shape. Three mages, two archers, four knights slammed into him at once. He roared but faltered.
I threw Avatar Three into the fray, shield raised, sword swinging. Melee fighters struck—and vanished, sucked screaming into my Dominion. The shielder scrambled back. The mages erected barriers, panic etched on their faces.
Still not enough.
A blast tore through Avatar One. Gone.
Avatar Two staggered, shield cracking under relentless fire.
I recalled Puff and my main body into the Dominion before they collapsed.
Then Two fell—burned and shattered.
Silas and the bearded mage turned their attention to me. Both raised their hands. The weight of their killing intent froze the air.
My scouts were already fleeing, darting unseen across the land. My only escape.
"Nice game," I rasped. My grin was bloodied, desperate. "We'll play again next time."
And I ripped myself back into my Shadow Realm.