👑 While Granero's mother was still paying homage and offering tearful thanks to Josh Aratat, the void around them rippled like disturbed water.
From the darkness beyond, a figure stepped into the void — tall, lean, with a mischievous smile stretching unnaturally across his face. V'Zaleth The trickster god. His eyes gleamed with cruel delight, and when he smiled, it was wide, unnerving — his teeth glinting as if each one were carved from polished ivory, a perfect picture of malice framed in shadow.
Josh did not move, but his senses prickled. He could feel it — that slithering presence creeping closer.
The god circled lazily, almost like a predator enjoying the moment before the kill, then glided to a spot just out of Josh's direct line of sight, a blindsided angle where no ordinary man could defend himself.
He stopped.
Then, with sudden ferocity, the trickster god lunged. The void seemed to tremble with his motion. In his mind, he could already taste the satisfaction of it — ending Josh Aratat in one strike, claiming victory and restoring his twisted sense of balance to the world.
But then—
A voice thundered.
It was the voice of the black dragon, Josh Aratat, but it sounded a lot more powerful, far older, far more primal.
"I. AM. KING."
The words were not merely spoken — they were law. They carried the weight of the Black Dragon himself, reverberating through the void like the toll of an eternal bell. Reality itself seemed to bow under the proclamation.
A golden-black sigil flared to life beneath Josh's feet, radiant and terrible, its patterns spreading outward like molten veins across the emptiness.
The moment the Protocol activated, the void changed.
The trickster god froze mid-strike, his grin faltering for the first time. His limbs locked in place, his divine essence bound. To the watching mortals and spirits, his form was fully revealed — a swirling, chaotic silhouette of many faces and shifting forms — but all of them were now immobilized, as though nailed to existence itself.
Josh Aratat stood with a terrifying calm, the glow of the 'I AM KING Protocol' painting his silhouette in an aura of absolute authority. His voice was quiet, but it carried like a commandment.
"Josh Aratat's voice was calm, but it cut through the void like the edge of a divine blade.
"I've been wondering when you would show yourself, V'Zaleth."
The name alone sent a ripple through the air, and the trickster god's shifting form faltered for a fraction of a second.
Josh took a step forward, the glow of the sigil intensifying beneath his feet, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. "I have come not just for revenge," his words carried the weight of judgment, "but for judgment. I know you have my generals and my soldiers with you. I can feel them screaming within that dimensional tote where you trapped them. Their suffering calls out to me."
His eyes blazed with something both human and draconic as his voice dropped lower, colder.
"I will send you back to the 5th dimension, V'Zaleth. That is where you belong — to finish my agreement with the guardian. And do not mistake this for mercy…" Josh's gaze hardened. "…because if I wished, I could end you where you stand."
The words slammed into the void like hammer strikes.
The trickster god tried to respond, but horror filled his many faces as he realized he couldn't even part his lips. Not a single sound escaped. He strained, tried to twist free, but his entire form was locked in place — as though the very concept of movement had been stripped from him.
A cold thought crept into his mind, unbidden: Just how far has this boy grown?
He had known Josh Aratat as a mortal whose life was supposed to end before he could ever threaten a god. Now, Josh stood before him with the presence of a sovereign, his words carrying the authority of a realm ruler.
But what V'Zaleth could not see — what no one could — was the cost.
The 'I AM KING Protocol' was not just power, it was a dangerous cheat, a weapon of last resort. It borrowed strength far above Josh's current level, allowing him to challenge even a god — but the greater the level of the protocol invoked, the worse the backlash would be when it ended. His veins already throbbed faintly with strain, and somewhere deep within, he could feel the timer ticking down.
And still, Josh's voice was steady, unshaken.
"Crawl."
The single word struck like a divine decree.
V'Zaleth's body convulsed as though invisible chains yanked him downward. His head bowed, his many forms flickering chaotically as they were dragged closer to the ground. The once-proud trickster god, whose laughter had echoed across dimensions, was now bent against his will — forced to his knees, trembling with rage and humiliation.
Gasps echoed from those watching — Granero, his mother, the spirits of the battlefield — as they beheld a god on his knees before a mortal king.
Josh's eyes narrowed, not with satisfaction, but with cold purpose. This was not just vengeance. This was a message.
Josh could feel it — the strength bleeding out of him, the price of the I AM KING Protocol clawing at his bones. His muscles trembled under the weight of borrowed power, every heartbeat hammering like a countdown to disaster.
I don't have much time left, he thought grimly. If I don't send him back now, this will be the proverbial case of shooting my own foot with my own gun instead of the opponent.
He could already sense the aftershock waiting for him on the other side of this technique — weakness, exhaustion, maybe even collapse. But that didn't matter. The mission came first. The judgment had to be carried out.
And yet, to those who watched, Josh stood like an unshakable mountain.
The opposition emperor of the Scorpion Empire — a man who had razed kingdoms and made warlords tremble — stood frozen with his mouth agape. His soldiers, battle-hardened and ruthless, dared not even breathe too loudly.
Their collective thought was the same, a single chilling realization that struck them like a hammer to the chest:
If this man called the Black Dragon can do this to a god… what are we? We are dead for sure.
Fear spread like wildfire through the ranks of the enemy. Shields felt heavier, swords suddenly seemed useless. Their emperor's usual scowl had turned into a pale mask of disbelief, his fingers twitching nervously by his side.
And among Josh's own allies, Granero stood rooted to the spot, goosebumps racing down his arms. His reverence for the Black Dragon soared to heights he didn't think possible.
"The Black Dragon…" Granero whispered under his breath, almost as though afraid to say it too loudly. "He can even command a god. A god!"
He turned and spat to the side, fury and vindication surging through him.
"And you fools — including that stupid uncle of mine, Passo — kept saying he was just a man?! How many men can do this?!" His excitement peaked as he gestured wildly to the sight before them.
He could still remember the day the emperor had fled when the opposition army came, abandoning them all. That bitter taste of betrayal still lingered in his memory as those who survived recounted the tales, since he didn't go with them.
"But see him now!" Granero's chest swelled with pride as his voice cracked. "See the Black Dragon, single-handedly stopping a god and resisting an entire army, all by himself!"
He shook his head in disbelief, his entire body buzzing with adrenaline. "Damn… goosebumps."
Even Granero's mother, who had been silently crying moments ago, now straightened her back and wiped her tears, awe gleaming in her eyes.
The void itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Josh's next command as V'Zaleth crawled closer to Josh's position.