The golden blood of Themis didn't just evaporate. It stained the snow of the Himalayas, glowing with a dying light that seemed to mock the very concept of divinity. Arthur stood there, his chest heaving, his 'Concept Blade' slowly drinking in the residual law-energy that lingered in the air.
He wasn't just Level 930 anymore. He was something the System hadn't yet named.
[Ding!]
[100x Multiplier Activated!]
[Divine Core Integration: 15% -> 55%!]
[Host has gained the Passive Skill: 'Aura of the Sovereign'.]
But Arthur didn't care about the stats. He turned his gaze toward the far end of the temple ruins. There, hiding behind the broken pillars, were a dozen or so men and women. They weren't powerful hunters. They were the 'Maintenance Crew'—the low-rank porters and cleaners who had been brought here to carry the gear of the elite hunters who had already fled or died.
They were shaking, their faces pale with terror. To them, Arthur was more terrifying than the gods. He was a man who had just punched the 'Law' in its face.
Arthur walked toward them. Each step he took felt like a heartbeat of the earth itself. A young porter, no older than nineteen, fell to his knees, dropping a heavy crate of mana-potions. "Please... Great One... I was just doing my job... I didn't choose to be here," the boy stammered, tears blurring his vision.
Arthur stopped. He looked at the boy—thin, malnourished, with the same calloused hands Arthur used to have. He saw himself in that boy. He saw every person who had ever been told they were "worthless" because their mana-score was low.
"Stand up," Arthur said. His voice wasn't a roar anymore; it was a low, vibrating hum that seemed to calm the boy's racing heart.
"I... I can't," the boy whispered. "I'm just an E-rank. I don't have the strength."
Arthur reached out and grabbed the boy's hand. He didn't use his blade. He used his soul.
"The gods told you that your rank defines you," Arthur said, loud enough for all the hidden porters to hear. "The gidds told you that you are cattle. But the gods are dead, and their law is broken."
[Ding!]
[100x Multiplier Activated!]
[Skill 'Mana Transfer' multiplied x100!]
A surge of violet and gold energy flowed from Arthur into the boy. It wasn't just power; it was the 'Divine Shards of Order' he had taken from Themis. The boy's eyes widened. His muscles began to knit together, his mana-veins expanding like a river during a flood.
[System Announcement!]
[The Monarch has initiated: 'The Legion's Awakening'!]
[Target 'Unnamed Porter' has evolved: E-Rank -> A-Rank!]
The other porters gasped. They watched as one of their own—a nobody—was transformed into a titan.
"I don't need elite hunters who sell their souls for gold," Arthur turned to the sky, his voice broadcasting across every television, every phone, and every mind on Earth through the System's global channel. "I don't need heroes who hide behind their titles. I need the forgotten. I need the ones who have been stepped on, spat on, and left to die."
He raised his blade, and a pillar of light shot into the heavens, tearing through the clouds.
"From this day forward, I am establishing the Monarch's Legion. We will not fight for the gods. We will not fight for the Gills. We will fight for the right to exist. To every porter, every cleaner, every 'weak' awakened—look to the Himalayas. Your King is calling."
Across the world, in every city, the 'lower class' of the awakened world felt a pull. The janitors in the New York guilds, the porters in the Tokyo dungeons, the miners in Africa—they all felt a spark of Arthur's 100x power in their veins.
[Ding!]
[100x Multiplier Activated!]
[Global Influence multiplied x100!]
[Monarch's Legion Recruitment: 0 -> 1,200,000 members in 10 seconds!]
Arthur felt the connection to over a million souls. It was a heavy weight, but for the first time in his life, it was a weight he was proud to carry. He wasn't carrying gear anymore; he was carrying the hope of a species.
Suddenly, the 'Golden Rift' in the sky began to bleed a dark, oily substance. The remaining nine gods were no longer just angry; they were terrified. They realized that Arthur wasn't just killing them—he was replacing them.
"I can smell your fear," Arthur whispered, staring into the bleeding rift. "Send your next puppet. Send your strongest. It won't matter. Because now... I am not alone."
Arthur looked at the young boy he had awakened. The boy stood tall, his eyes glowing with a faint violet light.
"What is your name?" Arthur asked.
"Leo... my name is Leo, my King," the boy said, bowing deeply.
"Leo," Arthur said, looking at the horizon where the next God's shadow was beginning to form. "Pick up your weapon. Today, we stop carrying their bags... and start carrying their heads."