Lyan opened his eyes, blinking against the intense, pervasive whiteness that surrounded him. This place was unlike any he had ever seen. There were no walls, no ceiling, no ground—just an infinite expanse of white. It felt different from the ti when he had been given the quest to kill Tiamat. He had no mory of entering such a place and found himself disoriented.
As he tried to make sense of his surroundings, a voice rang out, clear and commanding, "Hou... So you’re the one called the Hero of The Two Realms..." The voice was arrogant yet charismatic, carrying a weight that bore down on Lyan with a pressure he had never felt before. It was a pressure that surpassed even what he had experienced facing the eight high spirits and might even be comparable to the malevolence of Tiamat.
Lyan’s muscles tensed involuntarily, his body reacting to the overwhelming presence.
"There is no need to get so tense," the voice continued, almost amused. "I just summoned you because I suddenly could. I have been interested in you for quite so ti and called you on a whim."
Lyan turned towards the source of the voice and saw a figure approaching him. The man was striking, with a powerful yet slim body, exuding an aura of absolute confidence and supremacy. His hair was a vibrant golden, catching the nonexistent light and almost glowing. His eyes were piercing, a deep shade of red that seed to see right through Lyan. He was dressed in an opulent, gold-trimd outfit that looked both regal and ancient, as if he had stepped out of the legends of old. Every inch of him radiated an undeniable charisma and authority that demanded respect and awe.
"Who are you?" Lyan managed to ask, keeping his voice steady despite the tension in his body.
The figure smirked, a hint of amusent dancing in his eyes. "I am honored," Lyan continued, "I am Lyan Arkanum Evocatore, Summoner and the Baron of Grafen."
The man’s smirk widened into a grin. "Mongrel, so you’re a Baron," he mocked.
Suddenly, an imnse power surged from the man, and Lyan could feel the murderous intent radiating from him. The golden aura that enveloped the figure was suffocating, pressing down on Lyan with a force that made it hard to breathe. Despite the overwhelming pressure, Lyan stood his ground. He had faced Tiamat, the Evil Demon Dragon God, and survived. He could bear this.
The man before him laughed aloud, a sound that echoed through the endless white void. "Interesting, very interesting. You’re the second person after Draven, the stiff and genius professor from the other world, who dared to ask for strength. But you..." He trailed off, summoning a golden sword with a flourish. The weapon was magnificent, clearly a masterpiece of craftsmanship, its blade shimring with an inner light that spoke of its power.
"I am Gilgash, the King of Heroes," the man declared, his voice resonating with regal authority. "You should be amazed and praise my na."
Lyan was about to kneel in respect when Gilgash cut him off. "Fight , Evocatore. Summon all of your monsters and entertain !"
Lyan’s heart raced as the reality of the situation sank in. He was being challenged by a figure from legend, a being whose power was unfathomable. But he had no choice. He had to rise to the occasion.
With a determined look in his eyes, Lyan nodded. "As you wish, King of Heroes."
He reached into the depths of his soul, calling upon the power of his summoning grimoire. The familiar weight of the book appeared in his hand, its pages glowing with a soft, ethereal light. He flipped through the pages quickly, summoning his most trusted companions.
Grimclaw, the Deadlight, erged first, his skeletal form moving with a sinister grace. The Papilio Sli, Galia the Galewing Butterfly, and the Gryphon appeared next, their presence filling the void with an array of vibrant colors and energies. The Rock Golem and Ice Golem stood side by side, their massive forms exuding strength and resilience. The Acid Ant Queen commanded her workers and soldiers, their movents precise and coordinated.
Lyan’s summoned monsters arrayed themselves around him, ready for battle. He could feel their determination and loyalty, their trust in his leadership.
Gilgash watched with a keen interest, his red eyes glinting with anticipation. "Very well, Evocatore. Show what you and your creatures are capable of."
Without warning, Gilgash raised his golden sword and charged. His movents were impossibly fast, a blur of gold that closed the distance between them in an instant. Lyan barely had ti to react, his body react quickly to take the sword held by one of his goblin champion skeleton to block the incoming strike. The impact reverberated through his body, the sheer force of it nearly knocking him off his feet.
Grimclaw was the first to respond, his skeletal form darting forward to intercept Gilgash. The Deadlight’s bony fingers clashed with the King of Heroes’ blade, sparks flying from the collision. Galia swooped down from above, her wings creating a shimring barrier that montarily halted Gilgash’s advance.
But Gilgash was relentless. He moved with an ease and fluidity that belied his imnse power, weaving through the attacks with a grace that seed almost effortless. He parried Grimclaw’s strikes with his sword, deflected Galia’s energy waves with a flick of his wrist, and even withstood the combined assaults of the Rock Golem and Ice Golem without breaking a sweat.
"Is this all you’ve got?" Gilgash taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Show your true strength, Evocatore!"
Lyan gritted his teeth, his mind racing. He had to find a way to turn the tide of the battle. Summoning more of his monsters, he called forth the Prival Hound and the Fla Lioness. The Hound’s psychokinetic abilities and the Lioness’s fiery mane added new elents to the battlefield, their combined powers creating a chaotic whirlwind of energy and fla.
Lyan thought about needing his magic glaive to fight, and suddenly it appeared in his hand. With the weapon in hand, he launched himself into the fray, fighting head-on with Gilgash. His monsters backed him up, but the King of Heroes remained formidable, even as Lyan’s relentless assault forced him to change weapons. From sword to golden bow, then to a shield, and back to a sword, Gilgash adapted with ease, matching Lyan blow for blow.
Lyan moved with precision, his glaive slicing through the air with deadly intent. He feinted left, hoping to catch Gilgash off guard, but the King of Heroes read the move effortlessly, countering with a swift strike that Lyan barely parried in ti. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through his arms, but he held firm.
Gilgash’s laughter echoed in the void. "Hahaha! You fight well, Evocatore, but can you keep up?"
Lyan didn’t respond, focusing instead on his next move. He used his illusion magic to create multiple afterimages of himself, each one attacking from a different angle. The illusions were nearly indistinguishable from the real Lyan, their movents synchronized perfectly. But Gilgash was not easily fooled. He shifted his stance, his eyes narrowing as he discerned the real Lyan among the illusions.
With a swift motion, Gilgash swung his sword, dispelling the illusions and striking at Lyan. Lyan brought his glaive up to block, the clash of their weapons creating a burst of energy that rippled through the air. Gilgash pressed the attack, his strikes coming faster and harder, forcing Lyan to defend with all his might.
Drawing on his past experience as an incubus, Lyan began to use his illusion magic, enhancing his physical abilities by tricking his mind into unlocking hidden strength. His movents beca faster, his strikes more powerful, and his presence more elusive. He fought with great martial prowess, his attacks flowing seamlessly from one to the next, blending his illusions with his combat skills.
Gilgash’s eyes narrowed as he observed Lyan’s fighting style. "Impressive," he muttered. "But is it enough?"
Lyan pressed on, his body moving with a fluidity that ca from years of honing his skills. He used his illusions to create openings, attacking from angles that were difficult to predict. His strikes ca close, almost hitting their mark, but Gilgash always managed to evade or block at the last mont.
"Your illusions are remarkable," Gilgash admitted, his voice filled with grudging respect. "But you still cannot land a blow."
Lyan didn’t respond, focusing all his energy on maintaining the relentless assault. His monsters coordinated with him, attacking in perfect synchrony. The Gryphon swooped down with a powerful dive, Galia created shimring barriers to trap Gilgash, and the Ice Golem launched icy projectiles to restrict his movents.
Despite their combined efforts, Gilgash remained a step ahead. He deflected the Gryphon’s talons with his shield, shattered Galia’s barriers with his sword, and dodged the Ice Golem’s projectiles with fluid grace. His laughter echoed through the void, a sound both mocking and admiring. "Hahaha! You are indeed a worthy opponent, Evocatore!"
Lyan pushed himself to his limits, using every trick, every skill he had learned, combining his illusion magic with his martial arts to create a fighting style that was both unpredictable and deadly. Yet, despite his best efforts, he could only reach the level of ’almost’ hitting and landing a blow on the King of Heroes.
Gilgash’s expression was one of exhilaration. "You fight well, Evocatore. Better than most. But rember, true strength lies not in power alone, but in the heart that wields it. For giving my royal self such an interesting experience, let give you a special gift,"
With a final surge of power, Gilgash unleashed a devastating attack. A beam of golden light erupted from his sword, cutting through Lyan’s illusions and striking him with a force that shattered his defenses. The impact sent Lyan crashing to the ground, his vision dimming as darkness closed in.
As he lay there, struggling to stay conscious, Lyan heard Gilgash’s voice, faint and distant. "You fought well, Evocatore. Better than most. But rember, true strength lies not in power alone, but in the heart that wields it."
With those words echoing in his mind, Lyan’s vision faded to black, and he slipped into unconsciousness.
When he awoke, he found himself back in the familiar surroundings of the hut. His body ached, but he was alive. His monsters surrounded him, their expressions a mixture of concern and relief.
"Master," Grimclaw’s voice rumbled, "are you alright?"
Lyan nodded slowly, wincing at the pain. "I’m fine, Grimclaw. It was... quite an experience."
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