Chapter 441: Four Monarchs
THE DINSIONAL CRACK -
This place simply existed, a dinsion between dinsions, vast and layered, Endless landmasses stretched beneath a sky that wasn’t truly a sky, but a shifting expanse of violet fractures, glowing faintly. The ground itself was vast plains and broken continents suspended in a space that had no true direction, no edge, and no limit.
Compared to this,
The Chaos World had been small.
It was the perfect sanctuary for the Monarchs.
And then, Space tore.
With a clean precision, as a vertical fracture of darkness split through the air, its edges lined with faint violet light that bled outward, it did not expand wildly, nor did it distort the space around it more than necessary. It opened just enough for one person to erge.
And from it, He stepped through.
Arthur Blackwynd erged into the Dinsional Crack, the portal sealed behind him without a sound, leaving no trace that it had ever existed.
For a mont, he simply stood suspended in the air.
Then gravity, or whatever passed for it in this place, recognized him, and he did not fall.
He hovered.
Shadow armor wrapped around him, darker than anything this dinsion could produce, its surface alive with slow, shifting shadow currents, there was no helm this ti. Nothing obscured his face.
His ashen white hair had grown longer, falling freely, stirred by a wind that did not exist until he arrived. It moved around him in slow motion, each strand catching the faint violet glow of the sky, giving him an almost unreal outline against the vastness behind him.
His eyes burned a deep violet, endless.
Behind him, a shadow unfurled, it was not a cape in the traditional sense, but sothing that behaved like one, darkness stretching outward from his back, shifting and flowing as if it were alive, trailing behind him.
Arthur’s gaze drifted across the vast expanse beneath him, taking in the scale of it, the sheer openness, the way the dinsion stretched endlessly as though designed to house sothing far greater than what currently occupied it.
"So, they still chose this place to gather... It doesn’t feel like these monarchs are their successors, this sounds like them."
His voice carried without effort, low and even. There was no surprise in his tone.
His eyes shifted slightly, the violet glow sharpening as his senses extended outward, reaching with his intent.
He didn’t need too much ti.
The mont his awareness brushed against them, it was clear enough.
Distinct and separate presences.
A faint pause followed, and then,
he exhaled quietly
"I can feel you there."
It wasn’t spoken loudly. His gaze narrowed slightly, focusing on the points where that power gathered, where the fabric of this place felt just a little more strained.
"Four."
The number ca easily, he was certain.
His head tilted just slightly, as though listening for sothing more, sothing deeper beneath the surface.
But there was nothing.
No presence that dwarfed the others.
He didn’t find the one he wanted to find.
Arthur’s expression didn’t change, but he was annoyed.
"...You are still not here."
The words were quieter now, almost to himself.
For a mont, he simply hovered there, the shadow behind him continuing its slow, fluid motion, then, finally,
He leaned forward slightly, and the air itself seed to give way as he began to descend, his figure cutting cleanly through the space.
"I expected as much," he murmured, his voice calm and steady.
His eyes lifted again, locking onto the distant points where the Monarchs waited,
"Is he really avoiding , or is he preparing sothing.."
A faint, almost amused breath left him, barely noticeable.
"That’s fine."
The shadows around him deepened in response,
"I didn’t co here for him alone."
His gaze sharpened, the violet glow intensifying just slightly.
"I ca for all of them."
Arthur’s descent ended without impact.
The shadows at his feet shifted, stretching outward,
A faint, almost amused breath left him.
"If that’s how you want to play it..."
He tilted his head slightly, as if considering the idea, though the answer had already ford.
"Fine."
His eyes dimd just a fraction,
"I’ll start by sending one of mine."
His gaze lowered to the shadows at his feet, watching them ripple in response.
"Let’s see what they think they can offer to ... even if the answer doesn’t matter... I’m curious what that ice-elf bastard cos up with."
The shadow beneath him deepened and a figure erged.
Quick.
He rose from the shadow and his form stabilizing in an instant before he dropped to one knee beside Arthur, head lowered in absolute respect.
"My king," Quick said, his voice steady despite the power surrounding him. "Your command."
Arthur didn’t look at him imdiately. His eyes remained fixed on the distance for a mont longer before finally shifting downward, settling on the kneeling shadow.
"There are four Monarchs in this dinsion," he began, his tone calm.
He took a step forward, the shadows beneath him moving with him, stretching slightly.
"Sillad," he continued, his voice carrying a faint edge as the na left him, "the Monarch of Frost. King of the snowfolk."
"Yogumunt. Monarch of Transfiguration. A creature that prefers to hide behind tricks and borrowed forms."
His expression hardened slightly,
"Querehsh, Monarch of Plagues, The Queen of Insects. Rot, poison and decay."
A brief pause followed.
"And Rakan," he finished, his tone flattening just slightly, "the Monarch of Fangs and King of Beasts."
Now he looked down at Quick fully, his violet eyes locking onto him with quiet intensity.
"They’re gathered together," he said. "And they know I’m here."
There was no doubt in that statent.
"They haven’t made a move, which ans they’re waiting. Not out of fear... but out of caution. They want
to act first."
A faint exhale followed, sothing almost thoughtful.
Arthur’s gaze sharpened.
"That’s where you co in."
Quick didn’t move, didn’t speak, but there was a subtle tightening in his posture, a readiness to impress his Monarch that spoke louder than words.
"You’ll go to them," Arthur continued, his tone steady. "Not as a scout or as a spy."
"As a ssenger."
"They may attack you," he added, his voice lowering just slightly. "In fact... I expect them to."
There was no concern in his tone.
"And if they do," Arthur went on, "then they’ll have made their choice for ."
His eyes dimd slightly,
"That will be their declaration of war.. But Sillad..." he murmured, almost to himself. "He won’t rush it, he’ll want to talk. Offer sothing he thinks has value."
A faint, almost dismissive breath left him.
"I’ll humor that."
Arthur’s gaze settled fully on Quick once more.
"You’ll listen to whatever he says," he instructed. "Let him speak. Let them all speak if they want to."
Then, after a brief pause, his voice hardened just slightly.
"And when they’re done... you’ll give them my ssage."
The shadows around him deepened subtly, responding to the shift in his tone.
"Tell them the shadow monarch wants you to surrender," Arthur said, calm and absolute. "To kneel, to pledge themselves to ."
"And if they do," he added, just as evenly, "I’ll show them rcy."
The statent lingered, not as an offer, but as an ultimatum.
Quick lowered his head further, his voice unwavering.
"It will be done, my king."
Arthur gave a single nod.
That was enough.
In the next instant, Quick vanished with speed so overwhelming it left no trace behind. One mont he was there, kneeling in shadow, and the next he was gone, already crossing the vast distance between Arthur and the Monarchs.
The shadow behind Arthur shifted again, deeper this ti, more refined. From it, another presence erged, far steadier, far more composed.
Bellion stepped forward.
He did not kneel imdiately. Instead, he inclined his head, his posture respectful.
"My liege," he began, "Forgive , but that ssage you’ve sent..."
He didn’t finish,
Arthur exhaled quietly, then he smiled as he looked ahead.
"I know what you’re going to say, Bellion."
There was no irritation in his tone,
"That they won’t accept it. That it provokes them. That it closes the door before it even opens."
He turned slightly, just enough for his gaze to et Bellion’s.
"I’m aware."
A brief pause followed,
"I carry Ashborn’s mories," Arthur said, his voice lowering, "Not in fragnts or impressions of it."
His eyes darkened slightly.
"All of it."
He looked back toward the horizon, toward where Quick had already gone.
"I know what they are," he continued. "How they think. What drives them.. they’re arrogant and proud. Bound by their own nature more than anything else."
His gaze sharpened.
"They won’t kneel to ."
There was no doubt in that statent.
"And they won’t fight
head-on either," he added. "Not like this. Not without sothing tipping the scale for them."
Bellion remained silent, listening.
"They’ll look for him," Arthur went on, his tone steady. "They’ll want the Dragon Monarch involved."
A brief pause.
"But he’s not here."
That absence lingered more heavily than any presence.
"And that..." Arthur murmured, almost to himself, "...is the problem, there’s sothing off about this," he continued.
His eyes narrowed slightly, the violet glow dimming.
"Didi’s words weren’t ant to be ignored," he said quietly. "If that man gets his hands on the concept of destruction... He’ll beco sothing far worse than he already is."
Bellion finally stepped forward, lowering himself into a respectful bow, his voice steady and unwavering.
"I understand what you are doing now, my liege. And No matter what cos... we will stand with you."
His head lowered further.
"We are your sword."
Arthur looked at him for a mont, the intensity in his gaze easing just slightly.
"I know."
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