"It seems... I have been utterly defeated." Uranus fell onto his knees, his sword made of energy dispersing into the air.
Dorhal remained silent as gasps and shocked reactions rippled through the cove of trolls.
"Willpower is not so subjective as many think. It is not created by simply desiring it. No... it is sothing deeper. It is intrinsic and built by real events through life. One is born with a set willpower, and through experiences that lead one to extre situations, neural pathways are forcefully unlocked to develop a greater sense of hope for the purpose of self-preservation. You, Dorhal, have been born with a boon far stronger than my own. And it is not your indomitability... but your mind itself." Uranus’s words sounded wise, yet defeated at the sa ti.
He placed both hands on the floor, bowing and placing his forehead flat onto the ground.
"I do not surrender to you because you are stronger than , Dorhal. I do so because I do not believe there is another who shares such a spirit and ambition as the one you harness." These were Uranus’s last words as he fully bowed to Dorhal.
The other trolls were shocked, their limbs trembling with fear at the sight of the orc by this point.
"That is where you are wrong." Dorhal said, his tone deep, "There is another who surpasses my ambition by many folds. I can’t even begin to imagine his glory in comparison to mine. In fact, he is so great that I call him my master." Dorhal replied, catching all those in the cove off guard.
"Huh!?" A troll shouted from the back.
"Dorhal the Troll Slayer has a master!?"
"He is the strongest! The strongest on Demadur!"
"No can would surpass him... who is this master!?"
Uranus was no less shocked.
He raised his head with a bewildered look on his face. As if he didn’t believe Dorhal at all.
"I know it’s been a while since you trolls connected with the politics of this island, but it is no longer called Demadur. It was nad Star Island by none other than the lord of this land, Midas Kyrios Stars." Dorhal said.
"M-Midas? His na... it is of human origin, yes?" Uranus said, still seemingly in a daze of amazent.
"Indeed. He is the most admirable human you will ever et." Dorhal spoke highly of his master.
When he first ca under Midas’s rule, his loyalty was not so high. But after seeing how Midas interacted with all those under him, he couldn’t help but be moved.
Midas was the kindest person, treating even the most random of mosquitoes, goblins, and orcs with utmost respect and dignity.
Yet at the sa ti, he was a fierce mind when it ca to battle, and even more cunning when it ca to strategy.
To Dorhal, Midas possessed all the qualities of a great leader. One who would never have a scar on his back if he were to stand before his army.
"If that is the case... You must have co here to capture the trolls of Dema--" Uranus said, correcting himself, "Of Star Island, for Midas’s sake."
Dorhal nodded.
This was all Uranus needed to know. He smiled, "Then I shall surrender unto Midas Kyrios Stars for the rest of my days as well. I see it as not just the best path for the remainder of my years, but also an opportunity granted to like a hand to a drowning man. I will not lose the chance to serve under a man who even you deem to be so worthy." He said.
"We will surrender as well!" A troll yelled from the sidelines.
"Yeah! My friends too!"
"I will as well! I want to et Midas!"
"Midas? Midas Kyrios Stars! He is the king of the island!"
"The king!"
"I will surrender to the king!"
"The strongest!"
"The greatest!"
In the midst of all this, Dorhal smiled. It was a small smirk, get a smirk nonetheless. It was the first ti he had smiled since entering this cove.
"Good... if that’s the case, welco, my brothers!" He roared, "Let us go and et our lord. I’m sure he will be ecstatic to see you all!"
...
Currently, Midas was not ecstatic. Far from it.
He was being tortured within his own mind. His brain exploded with bouts of pain every few seconds.
But he had almost forgotten about this pain, since the obstacle he was dealing with in the present mont was far more overwhelming.
"You are my soul! The darkness around us... the darkness..." Midas attempted to answer his soul’s questions.
He didn’t know why, but every ti he thought of not answering, a sense of devastation and doom assaulted him.
Despite this, however, he could not answer his soul.
"What is the darkness!? Why am I connected to the material world!?" His soul roared for an answer once again.
Each ti, he felt like he was on a roller coaster ride through dinsions. He began to get nauseous, as the space around him seed to be still yet moving at a fast pace at the sa ti.
’At least... it seems I can answer its questions. After I said that it is my soul, it didn’t ask who I am.’ Midas surmised, ’Still, that doesn’t help. I can’t answer why it is in the darkness!’ He thought to himself.
Suddenly, the feeling of doom increased even more as the soul shone with a darker red hue.
’I need to answer another question quickly!’ Midas thought, rushing to co up with a solution.
"The material world!" He shouted, "You are connected to it because..." He quickly searched for an answer. However, he could not co up with a smart one. He was at the breaking point to think intelligently.
"Because I am using the Nine-Breath Circulation technique!" He blurted out in a straightforward tone, "That’s why! I used the technique and thought deeply within my brain, and I have ended up here, the domain where my soul itself lives!"
He didn’t know what the hell he was saying, but it wasn’t inaccurate.
Imdiately, the disastrous feeling cald.
"Darkness... what is the darkness!? Why must I face it!?" The soul scread.
It still had more questions, it seed.
’How the hell can I answer this one!?’ Midas yelled inwardly.
"Because the technique has placed you here!" Midas shouted, attempting to use the sa style of answer as before.
"False!" His soul glowed bright red, another assault of doom rushing toward him.
"Damn it! I don’t know!" Midas cried, the pain in his head increasing as ti went on.
"The darkness! It has nothing to do with the technique! Why does it exist!?" The soul scread, as though in agony.
At that mont, however, Midas’s brain lit up with an idea.
’Exist...’ He thought, the word connecting puzzle pieces in his mind.
’Through all other spectrums of the brain--which only exist to bind us to what does not exist.’ He thought back to Dorian’s words.
’I know it... I know the answer!’
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