The Eminence of a True Monarch of the Shadows

[Third Person's PoV] 

Shadow floated above the battlefield, hands buried in his pockets, surveying the carnage below. His hooded gaze swept across the endless expanse of death—giants, dragons, ogres, trolls, demons, and countless other creatures lay broken and lifeless, their blood merging into rivers of crimson that stained the very fabric of the dimension.

A faint smile played at his lips. Then, beneath the shadow of his hood, his eyes ignited like twin stars in the abyss. Slowly, his grin widened, revealing razor-sharp canines glinting in the dim light. And then, in a voice that dripped with power, authority, and an undeniable allure, he spoke a single word:

"Arise."

It was but a whisper, yet it thundered across the battlefield, drowning out the clamor of war. The world itself seemed to hold its breath as an all-consuming darkness unfurled, swallowing everything in its path. For a moment, there was nothing—no sound, no movement—only void.

Then, from the depths of the abyss, countless figures were shown, glowing with an eerie purple radiance. Shadow soldiers—his soldiers— stretched out across the darkness one by one, their forms pulsing with a terrifying, regal grace. They stood tall, unwavering, their very presence exuding submission and unbreakable loyalty.

Shadow's voice rang out once more, sweeping across the land like a decree written into the fabric of reality itself.

"The Monarchs whom you once served are no more. Their reign is shattered, their power reduced to dust beneath my feet. Even the greatest among them fell before me, their might nothing but an illusion."

His tone darkened, rich with an undeniable finality.

"So tell me—why linger in servitude to those who no longer exist? Why chain yourselves to the will of the defeated?"

The darkness pulsed, as if awaiting the inevitable.

Shadow extended a hand, his voice deep and absolute.

"Arise once more—not as slaves, but as warriors of the one true sovereign. Cast aside the past, and step into a new era. An era where your strength is no longer wasted in vain. An era where you serve not the dead... but the one who now stands above all."

His hand clenched into a fist.

"Arise... and take pride in your new purpose under my reign."

The silence shattered. The battlefield trembled.

And with a unified roar, the dead obeyed.

From within the void, the darkness began to condense. Rising from the ground, it took the shape of the corpses buried beneath. A flash of purple light illuminated the battlefield as the darkened forms opened their eyes—now glowing with an eerie purple radiance. Their gazes sharpened, and raw energy surged outward, intensifying their unrestrained power.

The dragons spread their massive wings, displaying their signature black-and-purple hues. Around them, other monsters and demons emerged, their allegiance shifting as they awakened. Then, as if guided by instinct, the dragons lifted their heads toward the sky, all focusing on a single figure—Shadow, standing above them.

With one synchronized motion, they opened their mouths and let out a deafening roar.

"RAAAAAAAAWWWWWRR!!"

They were not alone. Every newly risen monster—giants, demons, and creatures of unimaginable horror—joined in the cacophony, pledging their loyalty to the Shadow Monarch.

As the darkness receded, Shadow's forces stood revealed—an army larger than ever before.

Watching this grand display, Aurora chuckled while cleaving through a demonic being with her scythe. "He sure knows how to put on a show~."

From the corpses she struck down, shadow soldiers emerged, immediately launching themselves at the nearest enemies. With each kill, more shadows joined their ranks.

Aurora spun her scythe effortlessly. "At this rate, we'll be done in minutes. Talk about an unfair power—who could ever hope to win against that?"

Sighing, she gripped her weapon tightly and swung downward, splitting a large group of monsters in half. More shadow soldiers rose from the fallen. Grinning excitedly, she said, "Guess I'd better speed things up, then…"

Above, countless black-and-purple dragons soared into the sky—hundreds of thousands strong. Some unleashed torrents of violet fire upon the battlefield below, while others engaged the remaining living dragons in aerial combat. Wherever the flames touched, new shadow squadrons were born.

Amidst the chaos, Beta sat at a freshly conjured ice desk, frantically scribbling in a notebook. "I have to write down everything he just said! Not a single word can be forgotten! This battle will go down in history, and I shall be its author!!" She raised a triumphant finger to the sky, her hand moving feverishly across the pages.

Meanwhile, Delta, watching monsters being rapidly wiped out, suddenly yelled, "Wait! Leave some for Delta! Bossu! Please let Delta keep having fun!!" She charged forward on all fours, leaving everyone behind.

Standing by a towering tree, Alpha rested a hand against its trunk, eyes closed and smiling. "This war went far better than I expected. But I suppose it's only natural, now that HE has stepped in."

Eta yawned. "Finally… maybe I can get some sleep now~. I wish I could just sleep forever and never have to deal with things like this again."

Epsilon, axe resting on her shoulder, glanced at her in confusion. "Did she just admit she wishes she was dead?"

Bellion's sharp gaze scanned the battlefield. "Do not lower your guard. The war may be over, but the fight is not yet won. We still have monsters to eliminate."

"Lalalalala~!" Eta covered her ears. "If I don't hear it, it's not my problem~! Lalalalalala~!"

Alpha scoffed. "If you don't help with the cleanup, I'll cut your funding."

Eta clicked her tongue in frustration. "Damn it… how could I possibly pretend I didn't hear that?"

Above them all, Shadow observed the battlefield. His army's morale was at an all-time high, while the Monarchs' forces grew increasingly desperate. Without a leader, they crumbled. Meanwhile, with every passing second, Shadow's army grew—his forces multiplying at an astonishing rate.

He smiled at the scene below.

"People say war is a game of numbers… and they're absolutely right. For me, it's simple math—subtraction and addition. War is nothing more than elementary calculations."

As he chuckled to himself, Kaisel, his wyvern, flapped his powerful wings and approached. His large eyes held a melancholic gleam.

Shadow softened his expression and beckoned the creature forward, running a hand along its snout. "I haven't ridden on your back in a while, have I? I've been… preoccupied. Sorry for neglecting you, old friend."

Kaisel let out a low, contented growl, leaning into his touch.

"There's no need to be jealous," Shadow murmured. "I wouldn't ride another dragon even if I had the chance. How about this—you fly me around so I can take in the battlefield from above?"

Kaisel flapped his wings excitedly in response.

In a burst of darkness, Shadow vanished from the air and reappeared atop Kaisel's back. His cloak billowed wildly against the rushing wind.

As they took off, Shadow closed his eyes, feeling the connection to his ever-growing army. With every passing second, more shadow soldiers rose.

Pulling back his hood, he let the wind whip through his hair. His gaze lifted to the crimson sky of this war-torn dimension, a smirk forming on his lips.

"It's done. The war is over…"

His smirk deepened.

"…Which means the days of the Diabolos Cult are numbered. It all comes back to where it began. One last mission before I can rest. Before I can finally retire—properly."