Day came, and so it happened. Louis wailed as he was burnt to a crisp. Only a day old, the baby who had only come into the world a few hours ago was now forced out of it. He had come into the world for a singular purpose, and he had served it.
His life was no longer necessary. The ground soon turned into a very bright white portal, and Louis's dried, flaky blood and charred bones soon faded into the spirit world. Lord Valkorath followed, and thus it began. The stones that paved the way toward evil incarnate had been laid.
Valkorath noticed something the moment he got into the spirit realm: the book he had—the one to guide him—was gone. He wondered what he would do now. A steward approached him soon enough. Although Valkorath was a very tall man, the steward dwarfed him.
Valkorath looked up and saw no face, just darkness. This tall, dark figure covered in black clothing (if you could call it that, since it appeared to be just darkness) told Valkorath he would find the four trees in each of the four directions: east, west, north, and south. Valkorath thanked the steward, but before he could leave, he had to pay a fee for the information.
He, of course, had nothing to pay with, except, of course, food. He slit his hand and gave the steward some of his blood to drink, and he went right on his way.
He went eastward first, to the tree of power. It was said that a bite of a fruit from this tree granted omnipotence, but who knew? Valkorath got to the farthest point eastward and walked into a barrier. The tree was not here. Had the steward deceived him? No, he told himself. The book had said that the steward would lead him to his path.
A figure loomed over him, and as he turned, he stood face to face with a steward. He obviously had no idea if this was the same steward he had given his blood to. He asked humbly, "Where is the tree?" The steward pointed, but he pointed at nothing. He pointed back to where Valkorath had started, although you could argue that he was pointing towards the west.
Valkorath was starting to lose his cool now. He begged this steward to show him the way. The steward refused. He told Valkorath he would only help him if Valkorath offered him a sacrifice.
Valkorath asked him what he wanted, and the steward asked for Aurora and her daughter. In exchange, he would help Valkorath to all four trees. He had barely finished speaking when Valkorath agreed to give him what he had just asked for, his evil self finally coming into light.
The steward walked a bit and dragged something from nowhere. He dropped it in Valkorath's hand and told him to eat it. Valkorath could not see what it was, but he felt it in his hands and consumed it.
Nothing occurred at first, but Valkorath grew hot very soon. His blood began boiling and cooking his flesh. He dropped to the floor and cursed at the steward, but it was far too late. Valkorath had bitten and swallowed more than his body could hold. He must now die and be reborn anew—half man, half god, a spirit above all, a spirit god.
He regained consciousness an hour later. The steward welcomed him back. He was, after all, the second person ever to die in the spirit world. He had so much power, but he could not access it yet. A fruit from the other trees was necessary.
Up next was the tree of wisdom. The tree of power had a test that was as easy as it was hard. Anyone who wanted to eat from the tree would never see it. The steward had bypassed that.
The tree of wisdom had an even worse test, though. Anyone two hundred meters near it suddenly forgot what they were there for. To put it simply, you would know nothing when you were near the tree that bore the fruits that knew everything.
Valkorath would walk near it, get confused, come back outside, go back in, and repeat the loop. However, he got hungry before he got tired, and he saw a tree of fruits. He kept forgetting that he was hungry, but his body kept reminding him, and soon enough, the tree of wisdom had given a fruit to Valkorath. He ate and suddenly knew everything.
He had to go North and eat from the tree of death, but first, he had to tame the three dragons protecting it. That wouldn't be too hard, though. Some of his powers had awakened—some, not all—but that would do. He set out now to conquer death.
He did not even have to fight the dragons. Since he had become a spirit god, he had the power to issue divine commands. The dragons submitted to him, and thus the first spirit animals, as it was thought at that time, were subjugated, although against their will.
Divine commands overwrite your will and replace it with the will of the command, and thus Valkorath conquered death.
Last, but certainly not least, Valkorath had to go South and become master over all life. Then, and only then, would he become a proper spirit god. However, there existed a few problems.
The tree was underwater. It was also protected by large sharks in very, very deep waters. This, of course, would be very troublesome. Valkorath summoned a weapon—Eclipse, Void-fire, Dragon-song, Sun-flare—what it was called is lost to history now. However, one thing was certain—just one: that was the very first spirit object, or so it was thought.
The sharks were cruel and unforgiving, but Valkorathwas far more ruthless. Yes, trying to outswim a shark wouldn't go swimmingly well for you. Valkorath became a master over all life and a full-fledged spirit god, but an even greater threat awaited him. As he surfaced, he looked directly at the King of Arshaya.
He was here. Valkorath was confused. Why was he here? Had he come to bend the knee to him, or what? Wait, how did he even get here? Questions Valkorath never asked and never got answers to.
The King was there for a single reason: he was going to kill Valkorath. He had come with an army and two dragons of his own. With two spirit gods staring at each other in the same place, their powers nullified each other.
They were both now just two simple men. They, however, had their weapons with them. Valkorath begged the King for a trial by combat. He told the King he could name anyone as his champion.
The King had no use for that, though. He was not just a King; he was a warrior King, a King feared far and wide. He was strong with the blade. He looked disdainfully at Valkorathand told him, "You think you can stand against me?
Ha! I have crushed greater opponents under my heel before breakfast. Prepare to witness the full extent of your insignificance as I dismantle you with effortless grace. You came from the dirt, and I shall return you to it. No, rather, I shall turn you to dust."
Valkorath fired back. He asked the King if he was prepared for his imminent defeat, for he would serve it to him on a silver platter, for the King was an arrogant and insolent fool.
He told the King he was just a pathetic speck of dust in his path to glory. Valkorath knew one thing: he would live to rule. So, this fight had him fully confident, with no fear, but the King was about to teach him fear.
Valkorath charged at the King and swung for his head, but the King gracefully dodged. He dodged, and Valkorath fell as the King hugged and pulled his leg. As Valkorath lay confused, the King swiped for his neck, but Valkorathvaliantly jumped away.
The King burst into laughter and, pointing his sword at Valkorath, he said this: "You mistake my confidence for arrogance, but make no mistake, I am both confident in my abilities and disdainful of yours.
I could end this fight with a flick of my wrist, but where's the fun in that? I will let you flail a bit longer. You're just a peasant challenging a King to a game of chess, but alas, you're the pawn, and I am prepared to land my checkmate. You are about to learn the hard way that arrogance isn't just a trait; it's a weapon, and I wield it with deadly precision."
Valkorath laughed hysterically. He told the King that although the King thought he had a chance, he (Valkorath) was the epitome of supremacy, the Lord of all worlds. The King was just a stepping stone in his ascent to greatness.
He continued with this: "You talk big for someone about to suffer a monumental fall from grace. This will be your reality check. They say pride comes before a fall. Get ready to plummet, boy."
That was said, and the war of words turned into a war of swords. Valkorath soon saw the difference in power and realized who he was up against. The first thing he lost was an ear.
As the King cut off his ear, he said to him, "I am the pinnacle of power, and you—you're nothing but a pitiful puppet dancing to my whims. In the realm of combat, like every other realm, I reign supreme. Your feeble attempts to best me are laughable at best."
At this point in time, Valkorath was scorned. He wanted an ear for his ear, but he was simply being effortlessly bested. The King bested him again by disarming him and taking off his other ear.
He told Valkorath he was merely just a moth drawn to his brilliance, but he was now realizing that moths get scorched in the flame of superiority. He told Valkorath he would enjoy watching the realization dawn on his face as he came to the undeniable truth: he (the King) was untouchable.
Valkorath was told in a very disdainful tone that he would be given a moment to savor the anticipation of failure before he was utterly dismantled. Those were words that did not sit well with Valkorath.
Valkorath threw his sword at the King. The King had been kind enough—no, not kind, arrogant enough—to let Valkorath pick his sword after disarming him. He really had zero respect for Valkorath, but that was a mistake. As the King pushed the sword away with his own, Valkorath had an opening and used it properly. He brought out a hidden knife and tried to cut out the King's bowels.
He did cut the King, but not deeply enough. The King kicked him away as he groaned in pain. Valkorath had just shown that he was below scum. A trial by combat necessitated only one weapon, and it had to be declared. He had hidden a weapon and used it.
Everyone present there had no love for him. They saw him for what he was: a mindless animal.
The King got extremely mad and charged at Valkorath. How dare Valkorath touch him, and not just touch him, but draw his blood? But the King should have kept his cool. For all the wisdom he had, he was a fool.
Valkorath did not care about honor or strength. All that mattered to him in this moment was winning, and win he would. As the King charged at him, Valkorath commanded his dragon to burn him, and so it went. Unguarded, the King burnt to a crisp.
He had fought elegantly, he had fought spectacularly, he had fought honorably, he had fought valiantly, but he had lost. That was all that mattered. Valkorath had fought as dishonorably and disgustingly as he could have, and he had won.
He had used a secret weapon and called for outside help, but he had won. That was it. They all bent the knee to him as his spirit god powers were now back up. He was now what he always wanted to be: a powerful man.
The beautiful throne room in the kingdom of Arshayastood witness to his excellence as the crown was placed on his head. A King had left, another had returned.
Everyone knew what this meant: the usurper had come with dragons—multiple dragons. There were rumors that the former King had dragons, but no one knew for sure. The new one definitely did, though, and he made sure everyone knew.
Valkorath began his reign as cruelly as he could. The first ones who died were the true-born sons of the earlier King. Surprisingly, for some reason, the King had no bastard sons. Perhaps he was truly an honorable man.
That cost him his entire bloodline, though.
Not even his grandparents were spared. From his uncles to his aunts, to his cousins and nephews, his entire family was wiped out. The new King had also done well enough to kill everyone who had been in the spirit realm with the former King.
The people of Arshaya did not bend the knee that easily, though. They had to be beaten into submission. Most arrogant of all was a noble, Lord Paul of House Pyke. He had retreated his family into the dungeons of his noble house and refused to even speak to the King.
Valkorath kindly redirected a river into the locked dungeons, hoping to drown them. Most of them died. Yes, some, however, came out of the dungeon, and after they bent the knee, Valkorath burnt them alive with the flames from one of his dragons, Orath, as he called it.
This vile act of cruelty only hardened the hearts of the people of Arshaya. The nobles rallied their troops and tried to wage war against Valkorath, who was now residing in the noble house of the Pykes.
The people were about to learn, though. Rumor had it that the King had few soldiers, and truthfully, he did. Rather, he had no soldiers, but he had something better than soldiers: he had dragons—full-grown dragons.
Valkor, as he had named it, another of Valkorath'sdragons, was mounted as Valkorath flew into the sky and descended on the troops. The lucky ones were cooked in their armor. Others had their armor melted onto their skin and slowly died from the pain.
The season was dry, and the fields were full of long grasses. Sons and fathers died as their commanders looked on in horror. Now, they all had to do it. Valkorath suffered no losses but had killed tens of thousands of their brothers, fathers, and sons. They could not win against him and had to bend the knee. It was that simple.
Lord Aaron, a noble, however, did not share this sentiment. He continued to rebel. Valkorath sent a message to him, telling him to bow or else. Once the sun set, his bloodline would come to an end. Lord Aaron responded by sending the head of the messenger back to Valkorath.
The sun set, and Lord Valkorath descended on his family. All males, no matter how old or young, were executed. The women in his family faced an even worse fate. They were raped. These men did not care how old or young they were. They raped and killed them as Lord, or should I say King, Valkorath commanded them to.
He was King, yes, he was, but he was not a King of the people, for they hated and despised him, wishing on him fates worse than death. But no one dared challenge him. Valkorathunified his kingdom ruthlessly and cruelly like a wild beast, but his reign was much worse.
He raped and killed as he saw fit. He refused to marry. No, he wanted something else, and something else he got. He had only two types of people he raped: maidens and married women. He made no exceptions. This only angered the people more and drove them to HATE HIM...
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