The golden figure that appeared before
radiated an aura so powerful that it seed to warp the very air around him. His presence was undeniable—ancient, commanding, and filled with a cold majesty that made even Malakaroth hesitate. I knew who this was. I'd read enough lore, and I'd seen enough in my own ti as Dravis Granger to recognize him imdiately.
The one who gave
the magic pens.
This was Gilgash, the King of Heroes. The demigod, and king of Uruk.
Back in the ga that I constructed, when players reached the questline involving Armandra, the story would take a drastic turn. The objective wasn't just to kill her; it was to retrieve the body of Chancellor Eliandris, and upon doing so, the Demon King Malakaroth would make his appearance. That was when Gilgash would arrive, summoned to put an end to the demon king's plans.
The ga had always portrayed him as a figure of ultimate power, soone whose re presence could shift the tides of war.
But this… this was no ga. I could feel the reality of it all, the way his golden armor glowed with an inner light that didn't belong to any realm I knew. His eyes, sharp and calculating, seed to pierce through everything. The weight of his authority pressed down on , and I could see how the fabric of ti and space had already started to buckle around him.
He was far more than the legend I had read about—he was a force of nature.
Malakaroth growled, the sound low and nacing, but Gilgash paid him no mind. He simply glanced at the remnants of dark energy that still lingered in the air, crushing them with a flex of his gauntlet-clad hand. "That was rather cheeky of you, mongrel," he said, his voice deep and filled with the kind of arrogance that only soone like him could pull off.
He didn't even turn to face Malakaroth yet.
I could only observe for now, my mind already running through the implications of his arrival. This wasn't supposed to happen, not like this. Yet, here he was, summoned by the threads of magic that tied together this place, and it was clear that the ti-space rift had helped tear open whatever boundary held him.
The Tower of Magic was crumbling, and with it, the dungeonification process was accelerating. Gilgash's very presence had stabilized the collapse, but I knew it wouldn't last long without intervention.
Straightening myself, I adopted the tone I always used when speaking to Queen Aurelia, though this ti I asured it even more carefully. This was Gilgash—soone even higher in stature than her majesty. "Your majesty, I—"
Gilgash waved his hand dismissively, still not looking at . "No need for formalities. The situation calls for my presence, after all." His golden eyes finally flicked toward , studying
with an intensity that made
feel like he was peeling back every layer of my soul. "I see what's happening here.
Ti and space are in flux, the dungeonification is ripping this place apart, and that abomination…" He gestured lazily toward Malakaroth. "Well, it's no wonder my great self was summoned with such ease."
I instinctively glanced at the magic pen I held, the one imbued with the runes of ancient power. Gilgash had given it to
long ago—an artifact tied to the Gate of Babylonia itself. His eyes followed mine, and a knowing smirk spread across his face.
"No wonder indeed," he mused. "It seems my gift to you has done its job well."
"That's right, your majesty," I replied, keeping my voice level. Inside, my mind was still whirring. The magic pen had served
in many battles, but I had never expected it to summon him.
Gilgash chuckled softly. "I've been itching for so fun anyway. It's been far too long since I last stretched my power." He finally turned his full attention to Malakaroth, his smirk growing wider. "But before we get to that…"
He stared at the demon king with open disdain. "What's your na, mongrel?"
The air grew thick with Malakaroth's rage. His eyes burned crimson as his towering form lood over both of us. "You dare—"
"Yes, yes, I dare," Gilgash interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. "What's your na? Or are you too insignificant for even that?"
Malakaroth's growl turned into a roar, his voice filled with fury. "I am Malakaroth, the Blood-Forged Sovereign! King of the orcs and ogres, destroyer of realms! I will—"
"Ah, so you do have a na," Gilgash mused, still utterly uninterested in the demon's rage. "Good. I'll rember it for when I'm telling others of how easily I crushed you."
The demon king's fury reached a boiling point. His massive hand shot forward, summoning a vortex of dark energy that crackled with malevolent force. It surged toward Gilgash, fast and destructive, like a teor tearing through the sky. But Gilgash didn't even flinch.
With a casual flick of his wrist, he summoned the Tablet Grimoire, the Gate of Babylonia, the very sa artifact I had glimpsed long ago. The golden glow of the ancient grimoire illuminated the chamber, and in an instant, six portals appeared behind him, each glowing with a radiant light that made even the dark magic of Malakaroth seem weak in comparison.
"I'll be borrowing this a bit, Darius," Gilgash said, almost to himself, as if this entire battle was nothing more than an afterthought.
The first portal produced a sword, golden and shimring with an ethereal light. Gilgash grasped it effortlessly, his movents fluid and graceful as he swung the blade in an arc that deflected Malakaroth's attack with a single strike. The dark energy dissipated like smoke, vanishing into nothingness.
From the other five portals ca the heads of ancient staffs, each one radiating imnse power. They hovered in the air, ready to strike, their tips crackling with divine energy. Gilgash didn't even need to command them; they responded to his will as if they were extensions of his own body.
"Now then," he said, finally giving Malakaroth his full attention, "let's see if you're worth my ti, mongrel."
Malakaroth roared, his fury manifesting in the form of blackened flas that shot toward Gilgash like a tidal wave. The heat was intense, the very air around it warping from the sheer power, but Gilgash simply raised one of his portals in front of him. The black flas collided with the golden light of the portal, and for a mont, it seed as if the flas would overpower it.
But then, with a single flick of his sword, Gilgash sent the flas spiraling back toward the demon king. Your journey continues with empire
"You'll have to do better than that," Gilgash taunted, his tone filled with amusent.
Malakaroth snarled, and with a sweep of his hand, he summoned a massive axe from the depths of his dark magic. The blade was jagged, pulsating with corrupt energy, and with a powerful swing, he brought it crashing down toward Gilgash.
But before the axe could connect, one of the staffs hovering behind Gilgash fired a beam of golden light, striking the axe head-on and shattering it into pieces. Malakaroth barely had ti to react before the other staffs followed suit, each one firing beams of light that forced the demon king back, staggering him with their sheer power.
Gilgash laughed, a deep, booming sound that echoed through the chamber. "Is that all? I was hoping for a challenge."
The demon king, undeterred, summoned more weapons, more dark magic, but each attack was t with effortless precision from Gilgash. The King of Heroes moved with a fluid grace, his golden sword cutting through Malakaroth's magic as if it were nothing more than a nuisance. Every strike, every movent was calculated, efficient, and devastating.
And yet, despite the ease with which Gilgash was dismantling Malakaroth's attacks, there was a certain joy in his eyes. He was enjoying this—thrilling in the battle, relishing the challenge, however small it might have been for him.
As the battle raged on, the magic tower began to tremble under the imnse power being unleashed. I could feel the very structure of the dungeon starting to buckle, the threads of reality fraying at the edges. If this continued, the entire place would collapse.
Gilgash seed to sense it too. With a sharp glance, he raised his hand, and from another portal, a glowing, crystalline shield erged. He tossed it into the air, and it expanded, covering the entire tower in a protective do of golden light.
"There," he muttered, almost to himself. "Wouldn't want to break the place. After all, I'm enjoying myself."
Despite of his arrogance, his eyes are very sharp and looking at things in the bigger picture, it seems. I guess that's as expected as soone deed as one of the greatest king ever exist.
Malakaroth, realizing that brute force wasn't working, roared in frustration. "You dare mock , human? I am a demon king! My power is—"
"Boring," Gilgash interrupted, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You're boring ."
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