Everyone stared at the screen.
All eyes were locked onto Damien, and across Orario the same question echoed in every mind.
How?
How did he intend to win a War Game that demanded coordination, numbers, and sacrifice? A game that, at minimum, required multiple adventurers just to seize and hold a single flag. A battle designed to crush lone challengers under sheer logistics.
Yet no one had predicted what was coming. How could they?
Damien Ardent was known as a fantastic adventurer, an anomaly among Orario's elite. A rookie with frightening potential, yes, one who had defeated a level three adventurer as a falna-less mortal. But even legends had limits.
At the end of the day, he was still one man.
Hestia Familia's only member.
Most of his later achievements were whispered about with an asterisk. He had worked alongside Loki Familia. He had help. He had backup.
So how could he possibly do this alone?
The answer came in a single word.
"Arise."
The shadows beneath Damien twisted.
They did not fade or scatter. They coiled, thickened, and rose like living ink pulled upward by an unseen hand. From them emerged a knight clad in dark armor, its visor glowing with a cold, violet light. It moved with purpose, seized the flag, and planted itself before Damien.
Two more figures followed.
Human in shape. Wrong in every other way.
They were soldiers...and Monsters formed of shadows, their outlines flickering as if reality itself rejected them. Those watching felt it instantly, that crawling sensation along the spine....Some members of his army....They were Ishtar Familia.
Or what remained of them.
Then the ground answered his call.
More figures tore themselves free from the darkness, dozens at first, then more, filling the battlefield around Damien Forty was the correct number...A Knight...Thier current leader...Some Adventurers, Clearly Ones killed by Damien during his attack on Ishtar..And the Rest? Monsters...
It was obvious now.
Damien was never alone.
He had brought an army.
The shock rippled through the arena. Even the commentator froze, his voice catching before he spoke.
"Necromancer…"
The word spread like poison.
The Necromancer. The shadowed villain who had butchered Ishtar Familia, leaving it broken and bleeding. The one responsible for half its members vanishing into death and darkness. A name that had haunted Orario's rumors for weeks.
Speculation had run wild.
A hidden weapon of Freya.
A monster raised by Loki.
A remnant from the age of Zeus and Hera.
At minimum, a level six.
No one had even considered the truth.
The truth stood calmly at the center of the battlefield.
Damien Ardent.
....
In Ishtar's chamber anger was filling the place
She smashed her glass table with a single blow, shards exploding across the floor as her face twisted in rage.
"IT WAS HIM!"
Her scream echoed like a wounded beast.
"THAT BASTARD! KILL HIM! I DON'T WANT HIM ANYMORE! KILL HIM! THEY MUST KILL HIM"
....
The crowd erupted in chaos.
Everything made sense now. Why he fought alone. Why he was calm. Why he had accepted impossible odds without hesitation. Why allies were unnecessary.
Why would a king need allies when his army slept in his shadow?
....
"I have just received confirmation," Ganesha announced, his voice carrying across the coliseum.
"The arrest of the criminal known as the Necromancer is officially suspended."
A ripple of shock ran through the stands.
"It has been revealed that, as part of the agreement between the Ishtar Alliance and Hestia Familia, all crimes committed by Damien Ardent shall be forgiven should Hestia Familia win the War Game."
The pause was deliberate.
"Therefore… no arrest will be made."
The crowd held its breath.
"The war shall continue!"
The arena exploded into cheers, gasps, and disbelief. Many had expected the battle to end right there. Instead, fate twisted the knife deeper.
And in that instant, the shadows moved.
Damien moved.
The battlefield came alive as Igris surged forward, claiming control of the first designated area with cold precision. His presence alone was enough to freeze resistance, the shadow knight planting himself like an executioner waiting for a sentence to be passed.
Observers watched in stunned silence as Damien's forces spread out with frightening efficiency.
The Ishtar Alliance struck first.
They seized one of the zones Damien had intentionally left uncontested at the beginning of the war, exploiting the temporary gap in his control. For a moment, it looked like a smart play.
The response was immediate.
Two zones fell almost simultaneously.
In the eastern area, a crumbling building riddled with blind corners and collapsed walls, Adonis emerged from the shadows. Borrowed from Hestia and reinforced by two towering Minotaurs, the group secured the flag within moments. The ruined structure forced them into constant vigilance, every corridor a potential ambush point, but the shadows did not tire and they did not blink.
The central area was claimed by Damien himself.
It was an open, unfinished garden, stone pathways half-laid and vegetation left wild and untamed. A dangerous place to defend, too exposed, too visible.
Damien turned it into a fortress.
Six newly forged shadows rose at his command, armored Lizardmen clad in heavy plates that gleamed faintly with dark energy. Three were positioned within the zone. One bore the flag. Two stood at his side like statues carved for war.
The remaining three took positions outside the perimeter.
Waiting.
Watching.
Daring the enemy to test them.
With his territories secured, Damien lifted his gaze.
His eyes settled on the zones claimed by Ishtar's forces.
Then he moved.
...
It did not take long for the King of Shadows to arrive.
The western area.
From the very start, the Ishtar Alliance had split with calculated precision. Three zones on their side were secured immediately. The core, the east, and the west all fell under Ishtar's direct control, while the central zone was entrusted to Apollo Familia. As for the western area on Damien's side, it was seized by Set Familia.
Set. A fallen familia of the past, infamous for its trickery . Their god, Set, clawing desperately at his former glory through Ishtar's backing.
They struck first.
Ishtar's plan was cautious and refined. She split her forces only because she could afford to. Her familia was vast, disciplined, and experienced. Apollo and Set were meant to move together, overlapping their strength. Even if Damien stood alone in the open, she feared him enough to prepare thoroughly.
Thus, the western area was occupied by the full force of Set Familia.
Twenty seven adventurers.
Four Level Threes.
Ten Level Twos.
The rest, Level Ones.
On paper, it was overwhelming. In hindsight, they should have held the area without issue.
Right?
"Oh… this… is a statement," Ganesha muttered, his voice subdued for once as all of Orario watched.
Damien did not engage the army.
He ignored them.
He walked straight through their formation and forced his way into the control circle.
Inside stood the flag bearer and his guards. Set Familia's captain, Seti, flanked by Randi and Tora. All three Level Threes. Veterans. Professionals.
The fight did not even resemble a battle.
Damien moved first.
His blade flashed and found Tora's left arm, slicing clean through the bicep. Her weapon fell instantly. Before she could scream, he cut her legs out from under her, severing movement with precise strikes.
Seti swung. Damien caught the blade, twisted, and tore it from his grasp. A single punch crushed into Seti's face, dropping him to one knee.
Randi lunged with her spear.
Damien leapt over it.
As he passed above her, his blade carved into her side, opening her abdomen just enough to cripple without killing.
He landed, turned, and finished it.
Seti's thighs were slashed. Then his arms. Not fatal. Perfectly placed. Surgical.
To the audience, it lasted barely a minute.
Total immobilization.
Damien did not kill them. To an untrained eye, it was savage. To a professional, it was mercy. Every cut was chosen. Painful, disabling but survivable and could be healed....Just not instantly
The rest of Set Familia screamed and slammed against the barrier, unable to enter the circle.
As Damien claimed the flag.
The five minute grace period activated.
But their attention was in the wrong place.
Behind them, the shadows moved.
From Damien's feet, his army rose and surged forward, crashing into the rear of Set Familia like a living tide. Shadow soldiers, Minotaurs, Hell hounds.... The numbers alone were terrifying. The coordination was worse.
With their captain incapacitated and only a single remaining Level Three, Set Familia collapsed under the onslaught.
By the time the grace period ended, every remaining member lay unconscious.
"The score is now four to four," Ganesha announced, his voice tight with disbelief.
"Damien Ardent has reclaimed every area on his side."
He paused.
"To note… since the beginning of the War Game… only eight minutes have passed."
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