Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

A little overwhelmed by the countless stares eying me as I stuffed my face, I felt my stomach lining burning as if I hadn't eaten in days, if not a week. I had only felt like this when I went on an anime binge and skipped a week of meals to rewatch a few animes. Best vacation ever.

A/N: True story. Ahh, good times.

Reminiscing on those days, I continued to stuff my cheeks with whatever the Overworlders placed before me, which was surprisingly rich in Qi, making it so I could not eat as much as I wanted.

Gnawing on a bone, Commander Termion, as everyone had called him, sat at the head of the table with what seemed like a resting bitch face. He was stern to a fault for whatever reason. He sat with me, eating, while I occasionally answered a few of his questions.

"Are you wanted by our government?" He asked.

"Maybe, you'd have to ask Loki, although seeing that look on your face, I'm sure you don't know who that is," I said, shaking my head, "But that is to be expected. You are just and Empyrean. Not even a High God."

"True," Termion said, cutting into his steak, season with salt and pepper, but based in what seemed like a different type of truffle and butter I never had. The taste was similar enough for me to identify, but the waves of pleasure it brought were heavenly, almost making tears fill my eyes.

"But," he continued, placing his arms down onto the table, he eyed me with his ghastly expression, "What can you tell me about how you fell from the skies and lived?"

"So many questions," I softly said, glancing at the runes upon my right arm.

Feeling the Tarnishing power I held within this arm, I knew if I so wished, a battle against this peak Empyrean King would be a worthy battle. Although with my new physique, I think he would find it hard to defeat me, I was now the bane to the denizens of the Overworld. Well, at least to those that had genetic mutations.

"You're about to attack. I don't think you will have enough time to worry about me," I softly informed, arching my lips, " As I said, I am technically your enemy, and my people are coming."

"You don't have to be," the commander softly said, which caused me to raise a brow, "Why not form a treaty."

I smiled, "Oh really? Termion, I think you underestimate your pull in the Overworld. You are gravely mistaken in believing that you stand a chance of having me as an ally."

"So you're underestimating me?" He commented, not angry but amused.

"Far from it, but if you don't know who the Snake Loki is, who sides with the Rulers of the Overworld, you have no business asking for an alliance."

"Then should I just kill you?" He said, lifting a glass of ruby-red wine, swirling with an elegance I'd only seen in nobles; his scarlet eyes bled a deep burning light.

"That would be in your best interest, but I think you're going to try to figure out who I am first and decide whether it's worth killing me or using me as a tool of diplomacy. I'm sure there would be many groups who would want me in their hands."

Commander Termion frowned and slowly nodded, " Thanks for the information,"

"Well, it's really for me. I'm only using you," I said, " In the next few months, I will be finishing my trials, and I would like to see how powerful I have become. I suggest you tighten up defenses, both within your stronghold and outside. Because a storm is coming, my friend."

Bloodlust leaked from my pores, withering the food into rot, startling everyone at the table. Eyes grew poised and vigilant, while hands etched towards weapons. Witnessing their movement, the withering stretched towards the table, the ground and the winds turning this manner into a vast land of death and decay.

"You're quite arrogant," Termion uttered darkly.

My smile faded, leaving only a deadly vortex of darkness pooling out into the air; the runes on my arm and chest bled a scarlet light, startling everyone at the table. They all instantly drew their weapons.

My gaze surveyed the table filled with all of Termion's top-level soldiers, and I merely snorted, "You should have seen me before. Thank Zax for tempering my willpower, or else the moment I found myself in a rotting dungeon. I would have gone mad and slaughtered everyone here."

Turning my back, the cold blaze in my heart burned even brighter as I pushed through the dining hall doors and into the outside, where the sun's rays stabbed into my flesh.

Tickling my very being, I glared back at the sun and spoke, "Izavith, I expect an explanation as to why a woman who holds me in such discard is so determined to make me suffer. If I am held in such disregard, the man who is married to Lilith, I am confused on why you would even help a being such as Zax? A devil of all things, a race that couldn't even stand against the angels in your higher heaven."

Zax's laughter bellowed into my soul, " A fine question, a fine question indeed. But one, you may never learn, my boy! A being like Izavith is so strong, so mighty, demanding an answer is not the way."

"You're helping me now?" I uttered in disbelief.

"Helping? I've always been helping. It's only your arrogance and pride that make me your enemy. As I said, Arsene, I'm not one to bend over backward in order to curry favor; as you have your pride, so to do I. I will not lower it for you, nor my master. It's who I am. Would you expect Lord Zariel to prostrate before Lord Lucifer, a known being stronger than him, what of Lord Mephistopheles?"

I didn't speak, as I knew he was right, but blood needed to fall. Clenching my chest, I knew blood had to fall.

Zax needed to pay.

Wondering the walls of the inner fortress, filled with a myriad of soldiers and civilians, I noted a few people were tailing me. Not bothering to kill them outright for their sins against the crown, I slowly found myself in a garden.

"Can we not start the soul trial now?" I asked, somewhat impatient to get this over with.

"No, your soul is injured. If we start the tempering process, you will find yourself dead during the first few seconds. Mend your soul with the Path, and then we can begin."