Robin, now a being of pure, unadulterated demonic power, looked out over the smoldering ruins of what was once a celestial city. The light that had blinded the world for five years was gone, replaced by a deep, beautiful darkness. The reign of the Bishops was over. But a new threat, a ghost from an era he had only heard whispers of, was rising.
A new Threat Emerges
Far from the desolate mountains where Robin made his home, on the fringes of the world, a forgotten village pulsed with an ancient, malevolent energy. Within this place, the souls of the defeated Bishops, shattered and scattered, were consumed. An old, dark lord, a forgotten being from a time before the Bishops, had been released. He absorbed the scattered souls, and with them, the last vestiges of the divine power that had defeated him so long ago.
His new vessel was the body of a young, powerful king of a small, forgotten village. This "Beast King" as he was known, was a man of cunning and ambition. But now, his will was consumed by the malevolent spirit of the old dark lord. The Beast King's body, now a vessel for a power far beyond its natural limits, grew and twisted. His eyes, once brown and human, now glowed with an eerie violet light. His army, a collection of outcasts and wanderers, swelled in size and strength. They were not fighting for a man, but for a new dark god. The Beast King's army, a horde of monstrous creatures and fanatical followers, swept across the land. Their first target was the prosperous villages within the Demon king's new domain. They destroyed and devoured everything in their path. A million people, all living peacefully under the Demon King's rule, were slaughtered. Their bodies were consumed, their souls adding to the Beast King's ever-growing power. The Demon King's army, a force of well-disciplined soldiers, was no match for his ravenous horde. Many of the Demon King's generals, powerful beings in their own right, fell in battle. The survivors, broken and defeated, reported the catastrophe to their king.
The clash of Two Kings
The Demon King listened to the reports in cold, silent fury. His face, once the face of a benevolent emperor, was now a mask of pure vengeance. He did not speak, but his rage was a tangible thing, a storm of dark energy that crackled around his throne. His peaceful kingdom, the one he had fought so hard to build, was being destroyed. He would not stand for it. He would meet this new threat himself.
The two armies clashed on a vast, open plain, a place of historical significance where Robin had once led his armies to victory. The Beast King's army, a chaotic mass of twisted bodies and hungry souls, screamed as they charged. The Demon King's army, a disciplined force of demons and mortals, stood in disciplined ranks, their weapons raised. But this was not a war of armies. This was a war of kings. The Beast King, his body encased in a suit of writhing, black armor, met the Demon King in the center of the battlefield. The ground shook with the force of their meeting. The Demon king, his body a beacon of controlled, dark power, met the Beast King's first blow with a massive clawed hand. The Beast King's attack was a chaotic maelstrom of raw, untamed power. It was a fusion of the divine power of the Bishops and the raw, unholy strength of the dark load. The air crackled, the sky turned a sickly green, and the very ground beneath them cracked and crumbled. But the demon king was a master of his new power. He did not fight chaotically, but with the precision of a master duelist. He parried, dodged, and countered, his movements a beautiful, deadly dance. The Beast King's attacks, for all their power, were clumsy and predictable. He was a wild beast, a force of nature. The demon king was a surgeon, a calculating killer. The Beast King, in his rage, began to unleash his full power. He summoned a storm divine light and demonic fire, a vortex of pure chaos that threatened to consume everything in its path. The Demon king stood his ground, a pillar of darkness in the heart of the storm. He focused his power, not to fight, but to consume. He absorbed the Beast King's divine light, twisting it, bending it to his well. He absorbed the demonic fire, making it a part of himself. The Beast king's attacks were not harming him; they were feeding him.
In a final act of desperation, the Beast King lunged at the Demon King, his body a spear of pure, concentrated energy. The Demon King did not dodge. He simply opened his hand and absorbed the Beast king, body and soul. The Beast King's divine power, his dark lord's soul, all of it was consumed by the Demon King. The world held its breath as a single, blinding flash of light erupted from the Demon King. The world went silent. When the light faded, the Beast king was gone. He was not just defeated; he was annihilated.
The Demon king, now a being of unimaginable power, stood alone on the battlefield. His army, his people, all looked at him with awe. He had not just defeated a king; he had consumed a god. The world, once again, was him. And this time, there would be no doubt. There was only one king.
What would this new, all-powerful Demon King do with his new domain? Would he rule with an iron fist, or would he try find the peace he had once yearned for?