These vines are causing me the pain, I'm certain of that now. I came to understand how they work during my grounding meditation. They're designed to permanently bind me, and I'm sure this is also the spell they'll use to trap my heart and subjugate me. I'm still horrified by my predicament, but thanks to my meditation training, I've gained a measure of calmness that lets me endure the pain.
Suddenly, I heard chanting. My eyes snapped toward a figure cloaked in crimson red, delicately weaving his hands in the air as he prepared a complex spell. I recognized the patterns immediately—the way he manipulated the surrounding elements gave him away.
So, they want to layer another trap and inflict further pain on me. I scowled, tension tightening my forehead. There's no worse feeling than helplessness. Since I had no way to stop the spell, I dismissed him entirely.
I reminded myself of the motto that made me number one as a game master: Cut your losses and focus on what you have. Don't waste time on what you can't do—maximize what you can.
What I had was this: the ability to read their spells, the mental discipline to isolate myself from the pain, and—most importantly—the faint sense of the woman who summoned me here, who might be an ally.
I scanned the vast throne room, searching for her, but found only an assembly of figures radiating dark auras.
My eyes locked on the figure sitting on the throne. Dark green eyes bored into me, emotionless, set beneath a crown and above a pair of massive curved horns like those of a mountain goat. Around him, the men bore horns of varying shapes, while the women had none, appearing eerily human.
The King.
We glared at each other, neither looking away.
The containing spell lashed out, doubling my pain. I compartmentalized it—isolated it to background thunder. In my peripheral vision I saw new bindings: a dark rope coiling into my chest, wrapping my heart, unlike the thorned, root-like vines of light already covering me. The rope constricted, squeezing. I refused to flinch. I raised my eyebrows slightly, mocking him. If I had no control over their actions, I damn well had control over my reactions.
For a fraction of a second, I thought I saw the King's right eye twitch. A flinch.
Another spell formed, this one settling over me like a net. The caster spoke—words I shouldn't have understood, but now could.
So… this spell lets me comprehend their language. Useful.
Then I heard her voice in my mind again, soft and urgent: "Don't give them your true name. They will use it to control your mind."
Suddenly, the background thunder turned to lightning. Agony ripped through me. My veins seared with fire as the rope crushed my heart. My head pounded with the worst brain freeze imaginable. I struggled desperately to isolate the pain, to drag it aside like a weight tied to my mind.
"Tell me your name, worm!" the caster spat.
I was screaming. My knees hit the floor. My gaze broke from the King for the first time.
Rage welled inside me. Their attempt to enslave me, to strip me of my will—it ignited a fury deeper than fear. My muscles trembled as I fought to contain the pain. Slowly, I forced my head back up, glaring past the caster, straight at the King. The worm wasn't worth my attention.
"You want to know who I am?" I sneered through clenched teeth, my voice ragged with agony.
"I am a Destroyer!" I roared, my hatred bleeding into the words.
"I am the Conqueror!" My voice thundered louder, defying the ropes strangling my heart.
The pain spiked tenfold, nearly blacking out my vision. Still, I rose, trembling but unbowed.
Then, with every ounce of rage, with a roar that shook the hall, I unleashed it:
"I AM THE DARK LORD!"
Something inside me snapped. It was like a rubber band stretched too far—snapping violently in two. My body shuddered, split, and for an instant I thought I was tearing apart.
And then—he appeared.
A tall, armored figure stood before me, glaring at the King with the same burning defiance that filled me. Through his eyes I saw myself—my crystal-skinned body still bound in vines of light and rope of darkness. The figure looked back at me, and I realized who he was.
My battle lord avatar.
I hadn't summoned him. I hadn't even known I could. The sheer force of my defiance, my refusal to bow, had ripped him into existence.
Hope surged. I no longer felt pain. When my human body closed its eyes, my mind slipped fully into the avatar. My heart pounded in exhilaration—what else could I do?
An enemy swung at me—I blocked without thinking. A spell streaked toward me—I dodged instinctively. It wasn't skill rotation, no button presses. It was survival, raw reflex, yet it felt like I'd done it a thousand times before.
I slammed a shield into a caster, sending him crashing into the wall. Surrounded, I grabbed a sword—somehow it was there when I reached for it—and drove it into the ground. A shockwave hurled enemies back.
Strength flooded me, raw and wild. I hadn't activated anything. These weren't skills. They were instincts, bursting out of me unbidden, born of desperation and memory.
The King rose, shock flashing across his face. Guards swarmed in. Casters formed up. Horns blared; reinforcements poured through the doors.
My hood concealed my face, showing only a shadowed void with two burning eyes. I flared the flames brighter, their glow spilling like molten rage.
I leveled a finger at the King. My voice rumbled deep and low, dripping with menace.
"You are now playing in my DOMAIN, bitch!"
At first, I only meant the words. My domain. My rules. The battlefield of a gamer where I had always reigned supreme.
But then—something happened.
The air tore itself apart. The throne room convulsed. The world lurched, walls and columns dissolving into black infinity.
I froze. What the hell—what did I just do?
The entire throne room now floated in a void. Absolute darkness swallowed the edges of reality.
My breath caught. I didn't cast this. I didn't even know this was possible. And yet, deep inside, I felt it—the space bending to my will. Dominion. My will was law here.
For the first time, the King's composure cracked. His voice thundered, desperate: "Kill him!"
I laughed, shaking my head. "Really? I just got dragged back from the dead and you already want me killed? That ain't fair, goatee!"
Some guards faltered. Even the King stiffened, his jaw tight. I leaned forward, my voice dropping into a predator's growl.
"Let's play… But fair warning—" I tilted my head, flames in my eyes scorching hotter.
"You won't see me coming."
"ATTACK!" the King screamed.
They rushed me. A hundred guards, battle cries echoing. Spells rained from every angle. But here, in this place, I felt untouchable.
Then I heard her whisper in my ear again, soft but commanding:
"Absorb them, my love. Take all that belongs to the King."
I followed instinct. I swept my hand at the nearest flank. Their dark auras unraveled like smoke, dissolving into dust that the void consumed. Power surged into me.
Fireballs struck. Lightning bolts speared. Ice shards shattered against my form. None of it harmed me. Here, I was invincible.
Rage and exultation fused into one. I lashed out, tearing through them, disintegrating one enemy after another. Their auras fed me, making me stronger, until only one remained.
The King.
He sat straight-backed on his throne, as if resigned to die as a monarch. Pride cloaked his body, but his eyes betrayed him—wide, terrified.
The void pulsed with absorbed power, a living engine at my command. I felt unstoppable. One enemy remained.
I advanced slowly, savoring his fear.
Then her voice whispered once more, soft and sweet in my mind:
"You shall not harm my Father, my love."