Knight-Captain Rhea led King Felix through the gilded halls to the Royal Armory. This time, the King walked with purpose, every step a perfectly calibrated pose, maximizing the Flow being channeled from his nervous, highly attentive subjects.
The Armory doors hissed open, revealing the Softcore Slayer armor.
"Your Majesty, the armor is fully charged by the Morning Ritual's Flow," Rhea reported, her voice reverent. "The Mithril is ready to receive maximum input."
Felix approached the aesthetic masterpiece. As he donned the high-collared vest, the leather hot pants, and the immense, platform-heeled combat boots, he felt the material adapt, clinging perfectly to his form.
[SYSTEM ALERT: AESTHETIC INTEGRITY CHECK: 100%. CONDUIT EFFICIENCY: MAX.]
"Evelyn, where is the live feed focusing?" the King asked, checking his reflection to ensure the lighting was optimal.
Chief Evelyn, standing by a massive, floating control panel, saluted. "We are streaming kingdom-wide, Sire! The focus is on the flawless execution of your pre-combat look! The current mood in the Kingdom is intense focus and anticipation—the Flow is rising exponentially!"
Felix smiled—a genuine, unhinged smirk. "Excellent. The entire point of this engagement is to demonstrate that our Rituals of Gooning are the superior form of national defense. We must give them a clear, aesthetically perfect target for their devotion."
Felix glanced down at his wrist. A thin, crystal bracelet, a core piece of Thighland's tech, pulsed softly.
"Rhea, my Tactical Thirst Trap skill requires maximum visual impact," the King stated, running a delicate finger along his jawline. "Ensure the arena lighting is set to 'Dramatic Backlight' for the duration of the skill activation. I need shadow play and highlight definition for optimal psychological effect."
"Consider it done, Sire," Rhea confirmed. "But what of the opponent? The Chadgardian, Giga-Throck, is a Level 8 Brute. He's resistant to traditional charm magic."
"He's resistant to charm," Felix corrected, adjusting his perfect golden hair. "But he is not resistant to pure, overwhelming aesthetic focus. His kind only understands blunt force. We will shatter his understanding of beauty with such intensity that his mind will be compelled to focus on me, completely and utterly, fulfilling the final step of our Ritual of Combat."
He took a deep breath, feeling the collective, surging energy of his devoted subjects building within him. The power felt like being wrapped in ten thousand electric blankets, all vibrating with dedicated, focused energy. The power of Gooning was real, and it was glorious.
The King strode into the arena, bathed in dramatic, pulsing gold and violet light. The crowd, a sea of exquisitely dressed Thighlanders, erupted into a roar of adoration—a sound that translated internally to a massive spike in Felix's power.
[FLOW RATE STABILIZED: 10,000 FPM. GLITTERING BARRIER: OVERLOADED.]
Across the arena stood Giga-Throck. He wore thick, matte-gray plate armor and carried a club the size of a small car. The moment Giga-Throck saw King Felix, his massive face twisted in contempt.
"Look at this! The 'Golden Thread' is dressed for a costume ball!" Giga-Throck sneered, his voice a guttural scrape. "Your entire nation is soft! Your so-called 'magic' is based on degeneracy and distraction! We will crush your focus and bring back true masculinity!"
The comment, intended to be demoralizing, had the opposite effect. The King's internal system flared red with the insult, but then immediately spiked green with immense, protective power.
[SYSTEM ALERT: PEAK OFFENSE DETECTED. KINGDOM-WIDE FLOW ANGER: MAXIMUM. TARGET LOCK: CRITICAL.]
Felix smiled, the expression radiating pure, controlled contempt. He raised his hand, the gilded microphone materializing instantly.
"Lord Giga-Throck," the King's voice was smooth, cutting through the noise. "You confuse discipline with degeneracy. Your strength is unrefined and dull. My people dedicate their minds, their focus, and their entire mental capacity to generating the energy that fuels our defense. You call it 'distraction.' We call it the Flow, and it is generated by a sacred, demanding, and highly focused Ritual of Gooning."
He executed the perfect, dismissive hair flip.
Kingly Skill Activated: The Royal "Slay"
The shockwave hit Giga-Throck, but this time, the brute refused to stagger. He braced, raising his club. "Your words are meaningless! All I see is a target!"
"Then look closer," Felix commanded. He unclipped his shawl and tossed it away, his Mithril outfit catching the perfect backlight.
Kingly Skill Activated: Tactical Thirst Trap
The specialized mana pulse shot out. Giga-Throck's eyes went wide. For the Chadgardian, the King was not just a beautiful opponent; he was an impossible visual paradox, a perfect aesthetic puzzle that demanded his entire mental bandwidth. His battle focus vanished, replaced by an agonizing, uncontrollable need to analyze the perfection.
"Your strength is useless if you cannot focus it," Felix stated, channeling every ounce of the 10,000 FPM. "Right now, your entire mind is consumed by the Ritual my people have perfected. You cannot fight me, because you are currently just another channel for the Flow."
Felix moved in for the final, devastating move, prepared to dismantle the brute with the power of focused aesthetic energy.