"What do you believe is your purpose in this life?"
The two kept battling as the sky shone down as its spectator, the floors carving away and hoisted up high, the clay surrounding the ice as it became Wyvios' sword. A mighty scream as the King dropped the blade down on the Assassin, prompting her to dodge over and over, slashing at the air as she climbs out and about. Zazel and Mawkin, meanwhile, were quick on catching on and standing atop the blade, throwing barrage after barrage to one another, as Mawkin tried to pump as much as possible in his non-existent heart. He'd regenerate himself back up as the color of his eyes came back, watching as the Demon was using Asmodeus to melt the ice, before implanting Shax on the mist to catch him in another illusion. If he could not beat the Dhampir, then the closest option would be to bat him out of this area entirely, using the momentum of the swinging sword to act as its launch, allowing him to focus his efforts back onto Wyvios. As he tried such, he watched as the King wasn't just aiming for the Assassin. He was going higher.
He was aiming for Strength.
THWACK!!!!
A direct hit as the fortress-like behemoth came crashing down, the Clay latching on as the King pulled it in like a fishing rod. Koina tried to get close and stop him, but the King merely melted himself into the land, waving goodbye as he lets her see the massive monster coming ahead. Every demon was on deck, stampeding through to try and block out as much as possible, but Strength proved too much. They'd slowly be crushed under its weight, returning back as energy towards the Demon, as a shout came from above. "GET OUT OF THE WAY, KNUCKLEHEADS!!!!!!" Solomon's voice echoed out across the destroyed land, as the group retreated back and watched as the Tarot began swinging its arms wildly, acting almost like a top in implanting itself on the earth to stop its movements, as well as breaking away from the 'blade' that Wyvios forged. A Typhoon was made as a result, one that scooped up the remains of both the kingdom and the residents, the clay quickly stringing them apart, with some silently screaming, while others begged and prayed for their king's salvation. Such gestures, however, had small tells that showed imperfections. One's praying was done with their hands up in the air. Another's screams were dead silent, only the gesture of a voice coming out from their mouth. Details that were admissible to the common eye, yet just enough to show they still aren't proper creatures.
Constructs only born for one's devotion, before crumbling away to dust.
As the Tarot slowed its spin, much to the dizziness of the Biblical Sorcerer as he stumbles around and hits himself in the head multiple times, the sword still remained intact. Worse, it was wedged within Strength, as it began to grow like a parasite and wrap around the parts, letting it take on its side and spin once more, now acting as a sawblade, whilst Solomon was flung out from the beast. "To think she'd double cross me... To think she had the GALL to believe she can out-rank a king! Just because she-" He'd scream, before realizing his actions as he looks up at the blue sky. He quelled his anger, his insanity, as he'd bask under its light. "...What am I a King of, really? Of clay? of Brick? Is that my duty as their Lord?" He'd ask himself, and yet he was met with an answer.
"You're a King of Nothing." the Contract was speaking again, one that floats by idly before slowly hiding away into his vacant soul, his reason for such immortality and perseverance. The Assassin was able to catch it before it disappeared, rushing ahead and taking advantage of the cloudy debris to target at that Contract. "You came to me one day thinking you own the world. That you want a Kingdom to act as your start. You sought higher and higher, and eventually, you've led yourself at your peak. Not to be a King, but as a target. Your pride is what you only have left, and that is currently waning. You are a King of Nothing, and the only thing that is governed under your feet is the blood waiting to be spilt." Wyvios took a deep breath as he remembered such acts. He looked on towards the smiling sun, as the Contract retreated back, just as Koina got close and delivered a swift dagger to its side. It merely sunk into the King's body, digging through and molding around it.
"Maybe... but that is where my legacy is." He'd mumble, as he'd be quick to snag and spin around the Assassin, pulling the sword back and curving his body so he can grab and pin her to its blade, dragging her across the ice, letting it scrape through and slowly damage her scales. He watched as the two kept fighting, the mist coating across half of the sword. In efforts to avoid being snuck upon, he'd kick the blade at its side, letting it spin, letting it carve through more of Kabanaska, clearing the forestside away and exposing the barren soil to the world, the entrance to the Bunker, properly visible by light. A storm was audible within the metal catacombs that acts as the Laboratory, a sign for the King that something was wrong. He could care less about it, however. To him, Barklode was already dead. Why bother with one's corpse if they never held use? That moment when he looked back was what made the contract speak again.
"Your project has birthed something beautiful, by the way. Your actions and consequences have led us to a moment in history unforgettable. Your creations bore fruit, a bitter taste when bit." A snicker at the fallen King, as he realized too late that someone was inside, one who was threatening his Sun. He couldn't reach for the switch either, as the castle was too far away, especially when dealing with such villains like them. He needs an opening.