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The Kings Message

  Chapter 33: The King's Message

  The hundred purple-cloaked figures spread through Millbrook's market square with practiced precision. Their white masks caught morning light, each bearing a different number etched in blood-red script. At their center stood a taller figure - Maxx, his mask marked with an ornate 'Commander' inscription.

  Lance's silver hair shifted in the mountain breeze as he studied them, his maniacal grin never wavering. Behind him, townsfolk retreated into their homes, doors and windows slamming shut against the coming violence.

  "How interesting," Lance's laugh carried that edge of deadly amusement. "The Third Master couldn't even be bothered to send proper warriors. Just her numbered pets."

  Maxx stepped forward, divine energy crackling around his form. "You dare mock the Dark Masters' chosen? We tracked the Shadow King to the Blue Moon Clan." His head tilted with cruel curiosity. "Yet here you stand, interfering with our mission. Who are you to-"

  He stopped mid-sentence as Lance's elemental markings pulsed with familiar power. The purple-cloaked warriors shifted uneasily as their commander processed what he was seeing.

  "Impossible," Maxx breathed. "You can't be here. Our spies confirmed-"

  "That I was with the Blue Moon Clan?" Lance's laugh made shadows dance. "I was. Just as I was in the Shadow Warren. Just as I'm here now." His silver hair writhed with killing intent. "Would you like to know how?"

  The Silver Storm King's third eye pulsed with assessment while Fenris's massive form tensed with anticipation. But Lance raised a hand, stilling his familiars.

  "Let me show you something beautiful first," he said, his grin promising exquisite violence. He raised his hands, and the very air seemed to shiver with awakening power.

  Throughout Millbrook, ancient runes carved into building foundations began to glow. The protective markings that generations had maintained without understanding their true purpose suddenly blazed with purple-black light.

  "You see," Lance continued as the ground itself began to tremble, "this town has always lived in the shadow of dungeons. But now?" His laugh echoed with dark promise. "Those dungeons serve a king."

  Maxx raised his hand, divine energy crystallizing into a blade of pure light. "Kill him."

  Twenty of the purple-cloaked figures blurred forward, their god-touched weapons singing through the air. Lance's elemental markings pulsed as he watched them approach, his expression one of almost bored amusement.

  "You know what's fascinating?" he asked as he casually sidestepped the first strike, his silver hair flowing like liquid mercury. "None of you actually understand what you're serving." His hand caught a light-blade bare-handed, void energy consuming its divine power. "The Dark Masters haven't even told you what they really are."

  "Silence!" One of the masked attackers lunged, only to have Lance step through his guard like he was moving in slow motion.

  "They stole their power," Lance continued conversationally, his maniacal grin widening as he danced between their attacks. "Murdered the First King of the Deep Places and took what wasn't theirs to claim." His laugh echoed as he caught another blade, this time shattering it with a pulse of shadow energy. "But that's not even the best part."

  Maxx signaled another wave forward. Forty more purple-cloaked warriors joined the fray, their combined divine energy making the air itself cry out in protest. Lance's silver hair writhed with growing excitement as they surrounded him.

  "The best part," he continued, void energy beginning to crystallize around his form, "is that they think they understand what's rising." His elemental markings blazed as he finally went on the offensive. "They think they know what I'm becoming."

  The first real strike was almost too fast to see. Lance's hand, wreathed in shadow-fire, tore through three warriors' defenses like they were made of paper. Their god-touched weapons shattered, masks cracking as they were thrown backward.

  "Too slow," Lance taunted, his movements carrying that deadly grace that spoke of power barely contained. "All that borrowed divinity, and you're still too slow."

  "Formation Three!" Maxx barked, and the remaining warriors moved into a complex pattern. Divine energy connected them, forming a web of light meant to trap and bind their target.

  Lance's laugh made several warriors flinch. "Oh, this is nostalgic. Tyrial faced something similar once." His grin promised exquisite violence. "Would you like to see how that ended?"

  Before Maxx could respond, Lance's power erupted. Not just shadow now, but elements responding to their master's will. Fire wreathed his right arm while void-touched wind howled around his left. Earth energy pulsed through the markings on his chest, and deeper shadows than should exist writhed across his back.

  "You see," Lance explained as he systematically dismantled their formation, breaking divine bonds like spider webs, "every limitation they place on me becomes another evolution to break through." His silver hair caught divine light and transformed it into darkness. "Every power they think can bind me becomes something new to command."

  Bodies began to litter the market square. Not dead - Lance was very deliberately keeping them alive. But broken, their borrowed divinity stripped away, their masks shattered to reveal faces marked with growing terror.

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  "My lord," the Silver Storm King called out, its third eye pulsing with assessment. "More approaching from the east quarter."

  Indeed, the remaining purple-cloaked figures had regrouped, their divine energy pooling together in desperate concentration. Maxx stood at their center, his commander's mask now glowing with power that spoke of direct connection to the Dark Masters themselves.

  "Enough games," Maxx snarled, his form beginning to transform as he drew deeper on borrowed divinity. "The Third Master warned us you might be strong. That's why she gave me this."

  He pulled something from his cloak - a crystal that pulsed with familiar energy. Lance's elemental markings flared in recognition.

  "Ah," Lance's grin took on an edge of genuine delight. "A fragment of Erebus's power. Stolen from the First King himself." He actually clapped his hands together in amusement. "Oh, this is perfect. You have no idea what you're holding, do you?"

  Maxx raised the crystal, divine energy pouring into its ancient depths. The fragment of Erebus's power began to pulse, each beat sending waves of primordial darkness across the market square. Windows rattled in their frames as reality itself shuddered under the weight of awakening power.

  "The Third Master said this would be enough to bind even a would-be king," Maxx declared, his commander's mask blazing with borrowed divinity. "Let's see how you handle the power of a true god!"

  Lance's maniacal laugh made several of the remaining warriors step back. "A true god?" His silver hair writhed with killing intent as he watched Maxx channel power into the crystal. "Oh, this is going to be entertaining."

  The crystal's pulse quickened, ancient darkness beginning to coalesce around Maxx's form. His purple cloak rippled with power that predated divinity itself, while his mask started to crack under the strain of containing such force.

  "You feel it, don't you?" Lance asked, his grin never wavering. "That moment when the power seems to recognize something? When it starts to feel almost... alive?"

  Maxx's confident posture faltered slightly. The darkness surrounding him had indeed begun to behave strangely, swirling with purpose that didn't match his commands. The crystal's pulse took on a new rhythm, one that echoed the beat of Lance's elemental markings.

  "What... what's happening?" Maxx's voice carried the first edge of fear as the ancient power continued to shift. "This isn't... it should be..."

  "Should be binding me?" Lance stepped forward, each movement carrying lethal grace. "Should be granting you the power to stand against a king?" His laugh echoed with dark promise. "Let me explain something fascinating about Erebus's power."

  The crystal's pulse synchronized perfectly with Lance's own power now. Darkness that had surrounded Maxx began to flow away from him, drawn to Lance like iron to a lodestone. The ancient force recognized something in him - something that spoke of deep places and darker thrones.

  "You see," Lance continued, clearly enjoying the growing horror in Maxx's body language, "Erebus wasn't just the First King. He was the template. The one who showed the deep places what their chosen should become." His silver hair caught light and transformed it to shadow. "And his power? It remembers."

  Maxx tried to release the crystal, but it had fused to his grip. Divine energy crackled uselessly as he attempted to counter what was happening. The ancient darkness continued to peel away from him, flowing to Lance in streams of pure shadow.

  "No," Maxx gasped as understanding finally dawned. "The Third Master... she didn't know. Couldn't have known..."

  "Known what?" Lance's grin promised beautiful devastation. "That Erebus's power would recognize what I'm becoming? That it would remember what it means to serve a true king?" He laughed, the sound making reality itself shiver. "Or that by giving you this crystal, she handed me exactly what I needed?"

  The remaining purple-cloaked warriors watched in mounting terror as their commander's borrowed power was systematically stripped away. The crystal's pulse grew stronger, each beat drawing more of Erebus's ancient darkness into Lance's waiting form.

  "Please," Maxx fell to his knees as the last of his stolen power was torn away. "We didn't... we weren't told..."

  "And that," Lance's voice carried that edge of deadly amusement, "is why you should be more careful about whose power you try to borrow." His elemental markings blazed as Erebus's darkness merged with his own. "Now, about those reinforcements you have hidden in the east quarter..."

  Lance raised his hand, now wreathed in the combined darkness of his own power and Erebus's ancient force. "Let me show you what true control looks like."

  The protective runes carved into Millbrook's foundations blazed with purple-black light. Earth itself began to tremble as Lance's power reached deep into the dungeons that had always lurked beneath the town.

  "Fascinating thing about dungeons," he said conversationally, his silver hair writhing with deadly purpose. "They're not just separate spaces. They're connected. Linked." His maniacal grin widened. "And when they recognize their king..."

  The first wave emerged from shadows between buildings - hundreds of spiders, their chitinous bodies gleaming with evolved power. They moved with terrifying coordination, weaving webs of shadow-infused silk that cut through divine barriers like they were mist.

  "Ten thousand beasts," Lance continued as more creatures joined the assault. "All evolved under a king's touch."

  Poison beasts slithered from drain grates, their toxic breath turning divine energy to vapor. Wind elementals manifested in deadly cyclones, while earth elementals rose from the cobblestones themselves. Fire and water elementals emerged in perfect harmony, their combined assault turning god-touched weapons to slag.

  The purple-cloaked warriors' formation broke. Those who tried to flee found their paths blocked by swarms of evolved rats, their red eyes gleaming with shared purpose. Every shadow concealed another horror, every doorway another path for Lance's armies to emerge.

  "This," Lance gestured to the mounting carnage, "is what happens when you threaten what belongs to me."

  Twenty warriors fell to spider silk that burned through flesh and bone. Thirty more discovered what happened when poison beasts decided to get creative. The elementals claimed their own share, demonstrating why even C-tier monsters under a king's control could overwhelm borrowed divinity.

  "Eighty-seven down," Lance noted with casual amusement. "Thirteen remaining." His grin promised something worse than death. "Including you, dear Maxx."

  The survivors huddled around their commander, divine energy flickering weakly as Lance's beasts circled them. Maxx still clutched the now-dormant crystal, his mask cracked to reveal a face twisted with terror.

  "Now," Lance's voice carried that familiar edge of deadly playfulness, "about your future employment."

  With a gesture, evolved spiders bound the surviving warriors in shadow-silk. All except Maxx, who Lance approached with deliberate slowness.

  "Fenris," he called, his silver hair settling around his shoulders. "I have a gift for you."

  The massive shadow wolf stepped forward, darkness rolling off his evolved form in waves. His ancient eyes fixed on Maxx with hungry interest.

  "A new toy," Lance explained, his laugh making the bound warriors flinch. "You can eat him as a snack, or..." His grin widened impossibly. "Play with him first. Your choice."

  Fenris's massive form tensed with anticipation. His jaws opened to reveal rows of teeth that seemed to drink light itself.

  "Wait," Maxx tried to scramble backward. "Please! I can tell you what the Third Master plans! I can-"

  Fenris moved with terrible purpose. Massive claws ripped through Maxx's legs like paper, the commander's screams cutting off in a gurgle as ancient fangs began their work. The shadow wolf took his time, demonstrating exactly why even the Dark Masters feared what lurked in the deep places.

  Lance turned to the remaining warriors, his elemental markings pulsing with satisfied power. Behind him, Fenris continued his grim play, each wet tear and crunch a message to those who would threaten a king's domain.

  "When the Third Master asks what happened here," Lance said, his voice carrying across Maxx's diminishing screams, "tell her that Lance Seraphis sends his regards." His laugh echoed with promised violence. "Tell her that every power she sends against me becomes something new to command. Every weapon she crafts becomes another tool for her extinction."

  The bound warriors could only watch as Fenris finished his meal, their former commander reduced to scattered pieces that shadows quickly claimed. Lance's dungeon beasts remained in perfect formation, a display of control that would feature in nightmares for years to come.

  "Oh, and one more thing," Lance added as he gazed at the bound survivors. "When you crawl back to your master, tell her I'm looking forward to our reunion. After all..." His maniacal grin promised beautiful devastation to come. "We have so much to discuss about Charlotte."

  With a gesture, his dungeon beasts parted, creating a path out of Millbrook. The bound warriors struggled to their feet, divine power barely enough to keep them standing. Their white masks, now cracked and stained, couldn't hide their terror as they stumbled toward escape.

  They would deliver Lance's message - not just in their words, but in their shattered bodies and stolen power. In the fear that would now fill their eyes whenever they remembered how easily their god-touched weapons had failed, how readily their borrowed divinity had been stripped away.

  Lance stood in the blood-soaked market square, his silver hair catching morning light as his dungeon beasts awaited his command. The crystal that had contained Erebus's power pulsed with renewed purpose, recognizing its true master after centuries of separation.

  The Third Master had tried to send him a message. He had returned one of his own - written in borrowed divinity and broken bodies, sealed with power that remembered what it meant to serve a true king.

  Now it was her turn to evolve... or die trying.

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