"Ha!! Ha!! Ha Ha, Ha ha Ha!!!" Armis's laughter rang out, sharp and mocking. As the sound echoed through the hall, the oppressive aura that King Roiran had exuded dissipated, turning into shivering confusion.
Armis's sudden laughter pierced through King Roiran's beastly demeanor, striking at his very soul. His cackle poked holes in the King's imposing stance, meant to subjugate and bend all to his will. Now, it remained baseless, his visage marked by confusion as his eyes widened at Armis.
"You call yourself a King... claim to be a God, criticize us, look down on us, call us fools for not seeing the truth that YOU hold dear…!" Armis's words were as cryptic as they were sharp. The sudden turn of events, the shift in the air, and the reversal of emotions even halted Alan's desperate ascent.
He had managed to drag his broken, bloody body up two steps of the stairway, only to stop and look at Armis. Armis stood there with mocking amusement on his face, his squinted gaze locked on the stunned and bewildered King Roiran, filling the air with more mockery as he continued.
"But believe me when I say this, you are nothing different than us, than these GODS YOU ABHOR!!!" Armis exclaimed at the top of his lungs. His voice, for a moment, spat disgust at the silent King Roiran. Then his tone shifted back to a stern edge as he continued, sending another jolt of shock through the King.
"He said that you were an egoistical, blind King, very suited for the sin you judge: Pride... was it? But my father never told me about this dramatic side of yours…" Armis moved ahead, his words deliberate and cutting, until he stopped near the dark throne. He placed his feet on it, trifling with King Roiran's pride. The King stood, stunned in confusion, his gaze fixed yet his mind echoing with Armis's words. Finally, his confusion curled his tongue, his face contorting before his puzzled voice seeped out,
"Uh... who?"
——-thddhhhakkkkkhhh!!!!——- A thudding echo broke through the heavy air as Armis suddenly kicked through the backrest of King Roiran's throne.
The screeching of the floor rang piercingly as Armis dragged the throne, turning it around before lying on it vertically. His mocking movements tested King Roiran's patience, whose pride now boiled like the pot of lava behind him.
Within his sealed lips, the gritting of his teeth reverberated in his ears. He felt puzzlement, piercing puzzlement. The revelation, the threat that should have left Armis shivering in fear, trembling before his presence, groveling at his feet for mercy, coalesced like a joke in the air. Armis's demonic appearance, which King Roiran had disregarded as bluff until now, showed no fear. Little did he know, the demon smiling and strolling before him was no facade but true evil to the core, a vileness as dark as him, or perhaps darker.
"Nice tale, my 'Liege', but as much patience as I've shown with you, would you mind returning a bit of it for me?" Armis's voice echoed mockingly in the temple as he crossed his arms and rested one leg over the other, getting comfortable in the broken throne. A mocking smirk spread across his face as he held King Roiran's heaving glare with an air of condescension.
"Because I have a tale for you, and unlike me, you are definitely gonna like it... And Alan," Armis turned his smirking gaze to Alan, who had managed to open his eyes fully. Alan's glare was fixed on Armis, his wheezing slowly turning into slow, bated breaths as Armis continued,
"Pay attention. This will answer all of your questio——"
"WHAT IS GOING ON?! What are you talking about, you MISCREA——Thud!!!!——"
King Roiran's patience snapped instantly, his pride bellowing out of his throat. He began cursing at Armis, but suddenly, Armis stood up rapidly and hurled a book at King Roiran's face, insulting him further.
With his glare, Armis spewed a vile aura that stunned King Roiran into silence. The King's attention turned to the book as he picked it up, confusion gleaming in his eyes as he flipped through the crackling pages. A strange familiarity exuded from the book, but puzzlement still clouded his gaze as he looked back at Armis. Armis's grim demeanor suddenly shifted back to eerie amusement. Sitting back on the throne, he waited as confusion rolled out of King Roiran's tongue.
"W-what is this?"
"A book."
"I know what it is, I meant what is inside it?!"
"Recipe of your doom." Armis's voice shifted into grimness, his glare holding a sinister essence of vileness. His words began to topple King Roiran's pride with doubt, each syllable like a hammer blow to the King's confidence.
"What do you mean?" King Roiran sneered, his voice tinged with apprehension.
Armis's grin spread again as he replied with calm nonchalance laced with piercing mockery, "Tell me, 'GOD,' does the name 'Goliath' sound familiar?"
His eyelids flickered open with sudden apprehension. The name that Armis sneered out didn't spark immediate recognition within King Roiran, but before he could react, Armis's voice echoed again.
"It does, doesn't it?" Armis's face contorted into a sinister expression. His smirk widened, eyes spreading with malevolent delight. The dread piercing through the confusion, the strange, eerie apprehension filling King Roiran and the air—Armis wanted it. He craved it. It was the feeling Armis had awaited through the long, boastful words of King Roiran. Now, it was his turn to pierce needles of frustration into King Roiran's pride, to play with it as the King had attempted to play with him.
"Well, I hope you're not associating it with me right now. I assume that the look of confusion, the flush of dread on your face, is from that memory, that bitter taste you'd rather forget…" Armis's voice rang with eerie grimness, each word a dagger hurled at King Roiran's pride. The tall stature of the King, founded upon sheer vengeance nestled in his dark heart, was now Armis's plaything, kicked around with piercing insults. Armis resumed his comfortable position on the broken throne, continuing nonchalantly.
"Because seriously, if you were to tell me right now that you aren't even aware of my full name—the vessel you waited for with such patience, such devotion, such 'admiration,' without even knowing his proper name—do you know what it would be?" Armis's nonchalance now mixed with a sinister smirk and mocking gaze, holding onto the silently heaving figure of King Roiran. He continued, scratching at the King's tall pride.
"It would be the failure of YOUR pride, transforming it into nothing but arrogance, the arrogance of a delusional man. It would prove that keeping 'pride' is not for everyone. So, let's assume you are actually trying to remember that rather forgotten past. Now, let me help. Let's run your memory a bit, shall we?"
Armis reached the stairs and placed his first step upon them, his smirk fading into a mocking solemnity. His expression became one of profound disdain, a stark contrast to the fury simmering within King Roiran.
"You see," Armis began, his voice dripping with sardonic amusement. "The dance of power you so love, the pain you inflict—it all comes full circle, doesn't it? Your grandeur, your so-called dominion, crumbles under the weight of a name you scarcely remember. So let me remind you…"
Slowly, before his voice echoed, his steps did. Armis began climbing, moving past Alan and giving him a sly smile as his voice began to weave the tale he had long awaited to speak.
"Goliath was a man of great ambition. Unlike the masses of Pompeii, he never much liked Pompeii or the Relic Castle that every person saw as a blessing. To him, it was a limitation, a seal preventing exploration of the world. He knew that what was in Pompeii was mystical in its own regard, but his heart, his mind, knew that what was outside was much... much more interesting…"
Armis's voice dripped with feigned profundity, his stern yet proud demeanor, and the highs and lows of his dramatic tone each a live demonstration of the mockery he felt towards King Roiran in his heart.
"Even after being beaten for his dreams and wishes by society, the church, even his own parents, Goliath never gave up. The rumors, the threats, the warnings of calamity never instilled fear in him.
Instead, they fanned the flames of his curiosity even more. He decided to rise above this society of frogs who never saw past their own well. And that is what happened. He became the best raider, the best wielder there was, and when the time came, he vanished into the shadows.
At the young age of twenty, Goliath somehow managed to get past the forbidden border, the bringers of doom. He had jumped out of the well of Pompeii. And once he was outside, he never stopped running. He ran as much as he could, his mind weaving possibilities and scenarios of how he would get caught, what calamity his home must be facing.
But when nights turned to days and days into weeks, he realized all the threats, the divine words, the rumors were nothing but lies. His home remained, and so did his breaths. For hours, he cried upon that realization.
These were not tears of pain but of profoundness, for the shattering of the illusion he had called life, his home until now. They were for something new that had seeped into him, now gripping his heart and filling his mind. From that point on, he decided that he would never show fear to anything new. He would bravely put his foot into this new quicksand of limitless knowledge that the outside world offered and wouldn't come out until he understood how each grain of sand moved, how it all came together, changed, and transformed into what it was, continuously changing into something new for whoever looked, stuck inside it."
As he spoke, Armis savored every emotion that accompanied his words, infusing his tale with a soulfulness that, even though absence of a tapestry of fumic memories, still managed to conjure vivid images of his father's journey in the minds of his listeners.
"But just like any man there ever was, before he could fully grasp the understanding he sought, he found love—a love that halted all his world travels, all the knowledge he had begun to gain. Every text, every word that disproved everything he knew until then, except for the enigma that was the marks and the Relic Castle..." Suddenly, the profoundness of his storytelling halted. A strange emotion flickered in his eyes, crawled across his visage, before giving way to his usual mocking wisdom. "And call it a stroke of destiny, because I myself prefer it as divine fate, the woman he came to be with became the key for him to unlock that enigma."
Armis continued, each step and word deliberate, ensuring King Roiran felt every bit of the torture he intended. Like Armis did, except for the stern facade of King Roiran, who stood quietly, enduring of Armis's savoring of every word, the shifts in his emotions, even the pang of disappointment that climbed into his tone as he continued.
"Love made him vulnerable. He became soft, opening up to her, sharing everything he held secret. But contrary to his beliefs, she didn't call him delusional or become afraid of him. Instead, she offered herself to him in a union that not only led to knowledge and revelation he could never have understood alone but also unveiled the reason for his people's existence, the existence of Pompeii, and the true nature of the Relic Castle. And needless to say, he was far, far off. But he didn't know that yet..." Armis suddenly stopped, closing his eyes to gaze at the fumic dark clouds hiding the starry sky. He let out a sigh, unaffected by the increased echo of King Roiran's gritting teeth. As quickly as disappointment came, it gave way to other emotions that coalesced on his tongue as he continued his tale, continuing his pace up the stairs.
"Nevertheless, their union resulted not only in profound knowledge but also in... yours truly." Armis bowed with a feigned smile before King Roiran, then continued, with sudden joy in his words that quickly turned into stern grimness. "And when I reached an age to travel towards here... my father's homeland. The first step of his mighty plan...! It didn't go as he envisioned."
An exclaim than a string of grim words before a steady pause with closed eyes sigh, Armis did everything he suffered through everything done by King Roiran that poked on his thinning patience, now hurled daggers at King Roiran's pride, because even to him, it was hard to discern that what was Armis's true motive, though he wasn't aware of his whole story, he knew who Armis talked about, but not a single thing entered his brimming anger mind that could have proved fatal to him.
Yet Armis's confidence, his calm while telling the story, slowly climbing up towards him, while Alan dragged his body behind him, all this began putting a certain emotion in his heart, it was King Roiran hadn't felt in ages but now the words of this demonic looking man, had begun putting fear of unknown within him, while Armis continued with a grim tone of disappointment hinting on something rising within him,
"It didn't go as he envisioned. Getting out of there proved much easier than getting in, the lack of knowledge of or his own arrogance for not regarding, a kingdom's ever growing defences, cost him the life of his beloved, he and his little one managed to escape back into Pompeii but not before he witnessed, gruesome, ruthless demise of his wife, MY MOTHER!!!." His voice became a true roar of something demonic that for a moment was fillled with true of his emotions but as the echo of his voice began to fade in the air, so did his hatred, giving way to his returning sternness, along with echo of his ascent,
"This ignited another flame in his heart, along with the embers of knowledge burned a consuming flame of revenge against his own people, in Goliath's heart. So he devised another plan, returned to his kingdom, spewed fabrication about his absence, about the origin of his child, he reunited with his childhood friend, he formed a party, swept in the next stage of his plan towards divine knowledge."
His emotions—a mix of sternness, pain, and a profound sense of his father's journey—echoed in his steps, a haunting reminder for King Roiran that Armis, like him, held a purpose, a motive. Apart from Armis's constant mockery, which pierced needles into King Roiran's pride, he knew there was something hidden within the tale Armis spoke. It drew closer with each word and step Armis took.
"With the things he had learned outside, a better understanding of his abilities, and the knowledge of new and different ways of combat, it didn't take long for him and his party to climb to the top. But he never forgot about his revenge, which he began to seed inside his child. Teaching him what took his mother's life.
Not a day went by, whether at night or dawn, he pushed his five—Six year old to extremes. Every moment was pain, any moment my limbs could have fallen off, my veins bulging so much they would have had bursted out of my head. But I struggled, I fought through it because every moment, nothing but his words rang in my mind: 'Kill or be killed!'"
A grit of his teeth seeped out with his exclamation. Armis halted, clutching his clasped hands so hard that even the golden armour covering his arms showed lines of strain. The string of his own words awakened memories, the painful past he would rather forget, flashing before his eyes. He opened his eyes, continuing his ascent with his tale.
"An imagination painted inside my mind, the cackle, the ruthless enjoyment of those guards who murdered my mother. For what?! For being an outsider? Because of their blind faith, it became easy for them to take an innocent life?! So I trained. I trained my body until my arms would fall off, until blood came to my mouth, until I could feel my veins bulging behind my eyes. I trained for the day I would get to stomp through the faces of the ones responsible for my mother's gruesome death. But that day didn't come. What came was the day when my father didn't return. What returned was the news of his demise, his death."
There should have been pain, grief, and every emotion that one should feel when describing his own father, one that he admired his whole life. There should have been despair on Armis's expressionless face, but there was nothing. Nothing but his silent eyes filled the still air, King Roiran's heart, and even Alan's withered body with a sinister eeriness, hinting at a darkness Armis tried his best to keep hidden as he continued his ascent with his tale.
"That Hero Goliath died a death of an arrogant bastard, blindly charging into a battle way above his limits!" His face remained eerily profound, with only his voice conveying the emotions he felt from his own words. A distant sadness emerged as he continued, "For some time, even I believed it. I fought the world, fought people for him, for his honor, retorting against his death, pushing myself into the delusion that the man who made me, a boy who should have been enjoying his childhood, was training all day, every day, for something that didn't even matter anymore. Because deep down, he also believed that his father was weak!"
Then, a deep breath of calming anger brought forth his sternness. "But when the seeds of his revenge fell deep into that boy, in his own illusion, he sowed a new seed, a noble seed inside his heart. He became determined that using the ruthlessness, the power, everything that his father had taught him for revenge, he would use them to prove the world that spat on his father… wrong!"
A smile now played on his face as the words pulled a certain kind of joy from Armis. His stern, silent demeanor began to fade as he spun around, speaking of his past.
"Soon he found a family, a love he never knew existed, that made him soft, weak from what his father had wanted him to be. But he didn't care. He forgot about everything because he enjoyed the new life he had: his friends, the adventures, the ups and downs from which he grew more… weaker!"
Then he suddenly stopped, his smile widening into a smirk. He delivered a verbal blow to King Roiran's patience, who nearly yelled out in frustration. Armis moved down a couple of steps, leaned down to match the weary, affixed gaze of Alan, and spoke with sudden vigor, finally beginning to mock Alan.
"But then one day, destiny STRIKES!!!—-Now Alan….remember how you pleaded, all of you, begged me again and again why I changed so after eating… him?!"
His demonic smile, his beast-like canines, deepened further, drawing emotions from Alan's weakly heaving breaths.
"Being at the right place, at the right time, in the right moment, that is what destiny is… right?" Swiftly, with demon-like movements, he turned towards King Roiran, flashing the same wide and deep smirk, testing King Roiran's thinning patience. He placed one foot on the stair ahead, spreading his hands slightly as he continued with profoundness in his voice.
"So I am guessing, just like me, even my own destiny didn't like the weak version of me. Thus, it gave me a chance. A chance I didn't know about until I had fully consumed Augustus, making his soul, his powers mine, because then it awakened my true self!!!" Spreading his hands wide, his movements drew frustrated attention from King Roiran. Showing off his demonic appearance even more, with eerie pride in his voice that slowly faded out, Armis continued, "The vision of my father, the emissary of his revenge, the living weapon for his vengeance, had returned to a world he found disgusting, surrounded by people who loved his weaker and soft side."
Suddenly, he turned again towards Alan, sitting down on the step, his whole attention now mocking Alan. He showed no shred of mercy or care to his once friend, spitting out nonchalance about their companions with unabridged insults.
"Well, as disgusting as the world and people surrounding him were, he needed them. Returned as he was, he was still confused, unsure of what he should do. So he followed along, through their petty bonds, through their revolting celebrations. He played along just as they wanted him, just as you wanted, Alan…." Armis leaned his head down as much as he could, wanting Alan to feel frustration, pain, grief, and fury as he finally began to show his true self, his true demonic colors.
"But I made sure to maintain this true self of mine. Tempting as these bonds the old me created were, I didn't want to get attached to them. I knew sooner or later they would work as my meat shield if push came to shove…" Then suddenly, he lunged down, dashing on all fours like a predator towards its prey, spewing out words in a tone of frightening lunacy, until he stopped an inch from Alan, his beastly breaths mingling with Alan's undeterred wheezes from gritted teeth.
"But no, how wrong I was, very fucking wrong!!! About every fucking thing!!! And do you know how I knew this?!!! How I came to fucking know this?!!!"
Predatory eyes of Armis, his beast-like lolling tongue, stayed affixed to Alan's raging gaze. Then, with sudden eerie movements, Armis returned to his more human self, sitting on the step above Alan. He continued spouting more uncaring nonchalance from his eyes and voice,
"Alan… remember… oh wait, you won't. You were out cold at that time, but don't worry, let me tell you. Remember that lizard thin—oh wait," Armis suddenly turned his head, veiling a fake apologetic expression on his demonic visage. He mocked King Roiran, who stood silent, clenching his teeth and fists as each word from Armis filled him with mounting frustration, waiting to explode. "I apologize, the very lizard-looking relative of King Roiran?" With furrowed eyes, he put mocking emphasis before turning back towards Alan, continuing with nonchalance, "And how heroically you killed it. Well, after getting to the next floor, we set camp and tended to you. At that time, one of the arrogant servants of Longiseus, what was his name? You know, the one who got his neck twisted by me?" His obvious and fake puzzlement turned into a twisted expression of mockery, trying his best to bring out painful memories from Alan, causing his blood to rush and his slow, weak heaving to increase as he laughed and continued on with
cruel amusement.
"Oh, that was fun to do, all in the facade of caring about her… her… You know, Alan," his mocking smile inflicted more pain on Alan's already shattered heart, reopening every wound. The memories he wanted sealed were torn open by Armis's chucking words, proving every moment of their time fake.
"I feel very, very weird to say this, but some part of me, I am sure that weak Armis loved her, and in that moment, it was not entirely me. I was only the instrument; he was the one that brutally killed that bitch of Longiseus. Ohh… wah!!" He let out a satisfied sigh as he returned from nonchalance to sternness.
"But it doesn't matter; he does not exist anymore. So let's get back to the point. You see, that dude handed me that book and that orb for safekeeping. I hope you know what I am talking about, right, Alan? The Lord Orb and that book." Armis grabbed Alan's hair, showing nothing but sternness as he forcefully picked up Alan with him, turning his groaning and struggling body towards King Roiran, who now held squinting disgust in his eyes, seeing Armis's cruel behaviour with his almost lifeless friend, making even him forget about his own discord with Armis. "Tell me, Alan, if I remember correctly, it was given to Longiseus by that coward, claiming to be the servant of HIM?!!!" Armis exclaimed, yelling out an insult at King Roiran, moving Alan's struggling body like a rag doll to put more emphasis on his mockery as he continued.
"See, 'GOD,' what I meant when I said you are no different from your people? Just like you, they were never able to see what was always in front of them. They were too blind, too arrogant, too weak to read the truth that exposed the lies on which their world stood, because those words were never meant for them. They were always meant for me!!!!"
And then Armis violently lowered the hand that ruthlessly grabbed Alan's hair. He began to come to the declaration he had delayed, finally bringing out the fear that was slowly creeping inside King Roiran. With his words echoing through the air, rumbling in his ears with a maniacal tone hurling insults nonstop at him, Armis swung an axe on King Roiran's crumbling pride with an even more twisted and sinister expression than before, looking directly at King Roiran.
"And that day, just like that, unaware, that bastard handed me my destiny!!! It was true, everything was true: the right moment, the right time, the right person, the right thing. Maybe it wasn't destiny; it was all him, him and him alone!!! You!!! You, king!! You think you are a master manipulator?!! A god weaving destiny?!! You are NOTHING!!! You are nothing in front of him!! He may be human, but his mind, his knowledge, his brain transcended heavens!!!"
Suddenly, his violent movements, his twisted expression, the mocking tone began to tone down with his words, only to announce out loud the reason he held no grief or despair on his face when he talked about his father's death,
"Because despite what they said, despite what they saw, what they found, what… they told… me… HE LIVED, THAT BASTARD LIVED, HERO GOLIATH FUCKING LIVED!!!"