Somewhere in the City of Primus - Arcathis

  The room was a study in contrasts, lavish and gaudy in every visible inch, yet suffocatingly, unnaturally dark. The darkness was a heavy, malevolent force, swallowing even the faintest glimmers of light that tried to pierce it from the outside, and it existed in this space on purpose.

  Gold plated furnishings that might have once gleamed with opulence were now tarnished and half-hidden beneath the oppressive shadows, the intricate carvings barely visible. The dark mahogany desk in the far end of the room was covered in arcane tomes, and stacks of papers written in a spidery, frantic script. Even the chandelier above, forged from blackened iron and shaped like twisted, grasping claws was doused by the overpowering gloom cast upon the room.

  Ostentatious portraits of Eridion Pandarus, showing him in much better shape and as more classically handsome than he actually was lined the walls, half-swallowed by the darkness, their angry eyes above his universally grimacing expression glinting malevolently when the crimson light from the room's center hit them just right. A gilded mirror, far too large for the room, stood against one wall, its surface reflecting nothing but endless darkness.

  The air was thick, stifling, carrying the scent of burnt incense and something far more foul, sulfur and the metallic tang of blood. The faint thrum of dark magic pulsed through the center of the floor, seeping up from the crimson star etched into the stone altar now occupying the space and giving it it's only source of light.

  A black robed figure covered by a hood as black as the darkness that filled the room around them knelt, and began the offering. Said offering was simple, all it required, was a physical act that would aid the caster in reaching the high level entity they desired to speak with. In this case, it required the will to do as He had done.

  To embrace savagery and darkness, and commit a murder, for the sake of murder.

  The victim this time, was just a goblin. Beady yellow eyes rolled in panicked terror as the creature tried to look around, but even its eyes, adapted for darkness, could perceive nothing in this magical gloom. Nothing, save the flash of a knife.

  The curved blade sank into the foul creature, ripping it from stem to stern as its bodily contents fell onto the circle below, activating it. A crimson star, awash with blood, began to power the connection to the farthest reaches of Arcadia. Unlike its past deaths, the goblin did not turn into black smoke, but rather, an ominous crimson energy drew in its blood, entrails, and then its still semi-aware corpse into whatever dark hell awaited beings sacrificed to the God of Monsters.

  Normally, one might think monsters made for poor sacrifices, but their God actually despised those monsters who lived in Dungeons, and not under his direct influence, and thus those who wished to speak with him could do so, if they could isolate and capture something like a goblin, and knew the right spells. This one, naturally, had come straight from the Arcanomicon.

  Dagorath himself appeared over the glowing crimson star carved into the stone altar below the spell, manifesting in an image tainted red by the blood fueling it. He was both handsome and hideous in equal measure, with a mane of platinum blonde hair to rival his mother’s, a pair of black horns curving up from the front of his skull, pointed ears like his monster’s, and unholy glowing red eyes that seemed…unamused. Bored, even. He was wearing full black plate armor, sitting upon a dark throne with glowing red runes that helped him communicate with his pawns across the world, when he could be bothered to reach out to them.

  It was a fact well hidden from those who followed Life and Magic…but the God of War and Monsters had grown tired in recent centuries, not literally, as by this point the power he’d spent making Demon Lords had recouped, but mentally. The visceral thrill from slaughtering Arcadia’s souls had dulled, and his creation’s constant lust for brutality had grown predictable. Boring. But there were some, genuinely evil inhabitants of the isolated world that still managed to draw his interest.

  “Eridion. It’s about time. Even my patience has limits, but at least you found my Father’s book.”

  The hooded figure drew back his head covering, and bowed it low, in respect. His hair was a brittle, over processed combed-over rat’s nest, very obviously covering a bald spot, and dyed to be some shade of yellow or gold, instead of white. His aged face was square, wrinkled, and dumpy, not unlike a frog, and his efforts to hide his pasty liver-spot ridden skin only ended up, even with magical aid, leaving him looking like a wrinkled, orange scrotum.

  “It wasn’t easy to reach…my Lord.” The proud narcissist managed to say, all but choking on the title his self importance caused him to struggle to verbalize. “But now I have it. The plan is in motion…all we need…is your end of the deal.”

  Dagorath let out a heavy sigh. “Your base lust for my Power is…so dreadfully pitiful. Obvious. Pathetic.” Eridion quivered with barely controlled rage, but he kept his head down in faux subservience. “Creatures like you…are genuinely abhorrent. I’ve seen what you do in your spare time, you know. To the women. To the kids.” A small smile cracked his deific visage. It still amazed him sometimes, the depths to which his parent’s precious mortals could sink. “Do not disappoint me, Pandarus…and I will grant you what your aged, failing heart craves most.” Dagorath sat up, both hands on the arm rests of his throne, now. “It has nearly been an Age since the last Demon Lord was slain…Break them. Remind them who truly rules Arcadia.”

  Eridion Pandarus rose, revealing a modern two-piece suit under his dark hooded robe, dark blue, formal, and not at all out of place on the homeworld of a certain isekai’d monk. On Arcadia, it was the bleeding edge of fashion though, one made immediately unpopular by the rich pig who wore it first. He’d tried hard to start a trend with such clothing, but even Pandarus’s fellow magical elite disliked the uncomfortable, if fine quality clothes that he had begun forcing his servants to wear. Almost as much as they disliked the man who wore them.

  “Your will be done…Dagorath.”

  The God of Monsters smirked. “A mere shard of my Power is more than Garbage like you deserves…but let’s see how you do with it.”

  In the slowly fading light of the late afternoon, Primus City lit up with an ominous red glow, as Pandarus Tower was suffused with the power of the First Murderer. More magic than Eridion Pandarus could’ve ever fathomed flooded his being, along with a far darker power. His eyes bulged in primal terror as his flesh unraveled, dissolving before his eyes. “No!” He roared with infantile rage as his hands, chest and shoulders began to turn into smoke. “My…body…this…was not…the deal!”

  “Pitiful Mortal!” Dagorath thundered with the authority of a being universes above the likes of Pandarus, “To Create…one must first Destroy. Carry out your task…or disappear in Failure.”

  Pandarus let out a silent scream, as the power of Dagorath, and the power of an entity far older than him, twisted the Wizard of Gil Street into something truly abominable.

  Earlier, Galdurian Arc Warden Academy, Primus City - Arcathis

  With the sound of the gong, Drake Long was gone as Skalos Lycaon raised a hand to sear his flesh. His shocking burst of flame missed completely as the monk became a blur of movement and disappeared. Seconds passed, and the crowd began to murmur, but the monk did not reappear. That was fine, by Skalos. The fury of the wind surrounded his claws, granting his basic attacks even more speed. He ran his long wolf tongue over the tips of his claws, and they burst into flames that lingered, and would do so for about an hour, giving his sped up attacks fire damage, in addition to the lightning. The crowd rumbled with discontent as little happened.

  Drake, for his part, had not been idle. Activating Stealth required disappearing from sight, and thanks to his frankly ridiculous Buffs, that had been easy. Greater Fortitude, gave him one thousand and five hundred extra health points, atop his own four hundred and forty. Arcane Intellect raised his brainpower even further with the boost to his Intelligence, which also meant he had quite a lot more magic, jumping from eleven thousand to thirteen thousand. Hero’s Strength raised both Strength and Dexterity, and since they were all at tier four, the Buffs made him more than a match for Skalos, and their duration was quadruple that of the first tier. As was the magic cost.

  Alvar, being a War Cleric, had used a magic restoring potion and claimed he was fine. He’d called it a worthy price to pay, to finally stop Skalos. Now the only question Drake had to answer, was how. Given his past life’s knowledge, Drake had an idea of how to at least slow a shaman like Skalos, but it remained to be seen just how closely the Arcadian version mirrored the video game one.

  In his underground hastily earthbended hideout, Drake Long split eight copies of himself around his main white cloaked body which was illuminating things with a small flame in his palm. Each one was smirking knowingly, and had a colored robe to fit the element they’d be using. Red, blue, green, and yellow would be handling fire, water, earth, and air respectively. Orange was on lightning redirection duty, purple Drake would be striking from the shadows, and black cloak Drake would, naturally, be teaming up with the white cloaked original for a flashy finishing move.

  “You all know your assignments?” The original asked. As one, the eight Drakes nodded, and raised their hoods. “Good.” White continued, “Stay calm, stay focused, and try not to burn our magic too quickly. Alright Green, bring us up!” With a crouch and hand raising motion straight out of Avatar, the green cloaked Drake brought them back to the top of the field, behind Skalos. “Alright, go!”

  The wolfman whirled around, and snarled, as the crowd cheered with the appearance of the monk. “Therrre you are!” Purple Drake faded into the shadows, hiding from line of sight behind the others, while green wasted no time, slamming his already raised fists into the ground and sending a powerful wave of breaking earth towards Skalos. The wolf’s burning red eyes dashed between the Mirror Images, looking for the white cloaked one. He was there, at the back, smirking next to black cloak Drake with their arms crossed, looking far too confident.

  Skalos leapt into the air above the rolling earth attack, raised a claw, and tried to apply his Flame Shock, but red cloak Drake smirked, and dispersed it with a wave of his hand. Then, he and blue cloak Drake fired a stream of flame and sharp, heated waterbending tentacles at him, which hammered the wolf in the air. He took the hit and landed, largely unphased, but still damaged.

  “Spirits of my Ancestors! Join me!” Skalos howled, and a pair of translucent spirit wolves manifested beside him, one surrounded by flames, the other by sparking electricity. A spike of painful earth slammed into red cloak Drake, sending him flying, as blue cloak went to catch him. As they charged, brown cloak Drake, who was on wolf spirit bashing duty, descended from above, having perched on one of the columns surrounding the field.

  “Green!” He shouted, as he activated Duel in the Heavens, hammering one wolf with the first two strikes, while the third sent the other wolf flying towards green cloak Drake. He’d also activated their Buff, Fury of the First Dragon, which sent every foe brown touched soaring in the air, or prone onto the ground. Green cloak Drake shouted as he struck the wolf coming towards him by hammering the ground with a fist of flame and a fist of stone. “Dragon’s Pillar!” A surge of flame and rock rose to engulf the spirit, dissipating it.

  Brown cloak had also backflipped back to his first quarry, punching it again, and dispersing it, and ending the damage bonus and energy boost the wolves presumably gave to Skalos. Skalos, however, did not seem to care. He just hadn’t wanted to deal with all the Drakes at once. Arcs of lightning formed a shield around him as he charged, and the first Drake he met, was orange.

  Lightning Crashed into the monk but, for some reason, it was diverted from hitting him. Furious as yet another part of his rotation was foiled before it could combo with his other moves, Skalos tore into the orange monk, who dissipated before his fury. “Eight left…” Skalos snarled, lunging forward at the next closest Drake, yellow robe, who was defending white and black as they respectively powered up their Ki. A torrent of focused wind slowed Skalos to a walk, but the enraged wolf shaman would not be stopped. His burning claws reached for yellow, which was when purple finally struck.

  Stabbing a Hidden Blade right into the unprotected armpit of his chainmail armor, Skalos howled in pain, and a Flurry of Blows followed, each one stabbing into his muscular form, as well as a pool of energy along the Luparyn’s torso. The damage was small, but it was going to add up. Losing orange this early was bad, but they’d expected to lose one clone at least. Purple Drake hit the stunned Skalos with Silence then, and shouted, “Brown! Lightning duty is yours!”

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  “On it!” Brown cloak Drake answered, as he summoned his Ki lightning, and shot it into Skalos’s back. The shaman snarled and whirled on brown, while purple faded into the shadows again once the wolf’s eyes were off him. “Red…Blue! Any day, guys!” “On it!” They replied in unison, merged their fire and waterbending to cover the immediate area around them and brown cloak Drake with steam.

  Purple struck from the shadows again, taunting Skalos with a dark smirk as he spun away from the enraged claws of the wolf, only to return a moment later and stab him again with his Dragon’s Fangs. Red and blue fired Ki Blasts repeatedly, as they cost so little magic they could basically be used indefinitely, and when Skalos tried to stop them, they faded back into the mist, made more of it, and then struck again.

  Skalos did eventually corner purple as he got in yet another trio of small but deep stab wounds on Skalos’s body, but then brown cloak was there, catching the wolf’s claws and once again, diverting the Crash Lightning from landing. With an enraged snarl, Skalos held onto the Mirror Image, and hit it with his Flame Shock, at which point, he followed with a rapidly conjured and cast Lava Burst straight from his palm. This combination, which he’d wanted earlier, applied his burning damage to every Drake nearby, and allowed him to sense them. Then, he called the storm, as the silence spell faded.

  A powerful lightning bolt came down not on the Drakes, but on Skalos, who sent it rippling through the ground, stunning and slowing the Drakes around him within ten yards, which was red, blue, brown, and purple. Surging with power, he finally landed Crash Lightning, which arced to every Drake but purple, and the following Storm Strikes cut down brown, red, and then blue, as Skalos got lucky, and gained a third Storm Strike. By the time Skalos turned to find purple cloak Drake, he was gone, but he shouted from stealth, “Now, Yellow!”

  At that point, yellow cloaked Drake drew away the steam cloud, revealing white and black cloaked Drake, each crouched low from the sheer weight of the condensed Ki Blasts they’d formed.

  “Positive!” The original Drake shouted.

  “Negative!” Black cloak Drake mirrored.

  “Kaaaa meh!”

  “Haaaa meh!”

  “HAAAAAAAAA!” They shouted in unison, as they brought their hands forward, and fired their respective beams at Skalos. The Luparyn didn’t have time to react, as the positive and negatively charged Ki blasts fused together in a spiral, naturally spinning around the other as they shot across the field with incredible speed before slamming into Skalos, driving him back across the field as he struggled to hold the attack off, before they finally exploded in a massive detonation. The crowd erupted in cheers, as they realized Drake might actually have a shot at winning. Black and white cloak fist bumped, and balanced out their respective energies as they did.

  “Images reset!” The original Drake shouted, and black, yellow, purple, and green melded back into white, who fell into his Dragon Stance, and began patiently honing his defense, as he attuned to the air. Absorbing the images would significantly reduce the cooldown time on his Mirror Image Mirror, and as he checked it, all he had to do was survive the next fifty four seconds.

  Across the field, a smoking and severely depleted Skalos chuckled. “And then there was one…” He muttered, shaking his head. He hated to admit it…but the first year was living up to his hype. His tactics were sound, and brutally effective. He hadn’t survived the Malblin Tyrant with luck. In only a day, he’d clearly done his homework on how a shaman’s abilities worked and flowed into each strike. It was hard to disrupt that flow, but the monk’s Buffs and light armored speed were more than enough to do so. Louder, he shouted, “Not bad at all…First Year…but playtime has Ended…” Lightning sparked around Skalos’s form, and the wind began to howl like his ancestors once had. Storm clouds formed above him, and lightning filled his eyes. “Time to get serious! Elemental…ASCENDANCE!”

  “Oh…Balls.” Drake muttered, very much familiar with what came next. Patient Defense wasn’t going to cut it. He shifted to his Dispelling Fist stance instead, as his only realistic chance of surviving the cool down window became disrupting whatever attacks the Ascended Stormbound Shaman threw at him.

  The students whooped and cheered as the Luparyn’s body became the wind. His red eyes shifted to bluish white lightning that burned with the same hatred. The only part of him that still looked somewhat solid were his hands, bound to form by magical bracers of some description that were different in appearance from his gauntlets. Lightning crackled around him, and Drake knew what came next.

  The monk took a steadying breath and focused his Ki. He’d faced down the God of Magic, and this trick had worked. There was no reason to think it wouldn’t work here. Skalos struck first, a Lightning Bolt arcing from his swirling wind palm, only for Drake to spin to the side and punch through the magic forming its tip with his Fists of Far Reach. The crowd watched with a stunned expression as the bolt simply dispersed in a sparking wave of power.

  They cheered, as Skalos’s ‘eyes’ seemed to narrow. Another bolt of plasma came, and again, was dispersed. Then another. A fourth. With what could only be described as a furious windy howl, the elemental form of the Stormbound Shaman started using its melee skills, which were increased to mid range attacks by the form he was in. Lightning Crashed, and dispersed uselessly around the monk. The Storm Struck, over and over, but the damage Drake took was minimal as the lightning arced into the field.

  The monk wasn’t smirking, and dispersing these powerful attacks seemed to take all of his focus, but it turned out that an Energybending monk was actually a solid counter to an element wielding shaman. All the while, through his defensive efforts, Drake counted down the seconds. Until he hit zero. Then, he smirked. He was confident that he and his clones could win.

  Furious, and running out of time as an Ascended Shaman, Skalos hammered Drake with as many lightning attacks as he could. Had he used a different element, like earth or ice, he might’ve overwhelmed the monk, but he was single minded in his determination to overpower the weak, furless Human with the power of the storm.

  It was here that Drake began acting. Instead of dispersing the lightning, he spun it around himself and pretended to struggle to stop it. Skalos, running out of time and fully tunnel visioned, fell for the display and increased the rate of his attacks, and then, quite suddenly, burned through his power. His wolf like form appeared again and dropped to the field, as he watched Drake, panting hard from exertion and Ascendance. Then, he frowned in disbelief.

  The monk was spinning, keeping the summoned lightning around him in graceful spirals as he guided the volatile energy, and shouted, “Mirror Images! It’s a Lightning Party! Everybody grab a piece!”

  With a flash of light from every color of the rainbow, along with brown and black, appeared again in their various robes, with identical smirks. Skalos tried to move, but found his legs rooted in place by green, as all the other Drakes readied their lightning. Green cloak Drake joined them quickly, and then as one they spun gracefully into guiding the lightning into ten Ki-infused bolts that sped towards Skalos in a flash.

  The Stormbound Shaman tried to control the bolts as Drake had, but Drake’s Ki infusion prevented him from doing so, and all ten struck in succession, only half a second between each. Once again, Skalos was smoking, and despite having healed himself with a surge of magic while an elemental, the rainbow of Drakes brought him right back down.

  “You know what to do!” White cloak Drake shouted, as he and black cloak flew into the air to ready another Balanced Kamehameha. Skalos used his Astral Shift to mitigate the coming damage, but it could only delay the inevitable. Purple hit him with Silence again as every color from red to brown charged at Skalos. The crowd ate it up, sensing what was coming, and the shaman’s heals were useless without the ability to speak.

  Drake had activated Fury of the First Dragon again, as it had come off cooldown with his Mirror Image, and now each of the clones hammered the Luparyn with a pair of elemental fists and kicks. Skalos could only raise his burly forearms and snarl as each Drake got into a circle around him and ping ponged his sturdy body sliding across the field between their attacks. It was a credit to his power, that their attacks didn’t send him flying. Then, his Astral Shift wore off, and the circle of Drakes unified their strikes into an upwards kick from seven directions at once.

  This proved to be enough to send Skalos soaring, and the crowd roared as they saw the combo coming. Skalos looked into the eyes of the white cloaked Drake, and gave a subtle, begrudging nod of recognition, and respect, as he resigned himself to the inevitable finishing blow. All the stabbing, bleeding, and punching had finally culminated, and while Drake was at about a quarter of his Buffed health, Skalos knew this energy beam thing he could do would decide the match.

  Sure enough, the positive and negative energy spiraled, slamming Skalos and spinning him into the ground with a thunderous explosion, definitively ending Skalos’s career as a bully. As smoke rose from the crater, Drake landed shakily, stumbled to the edge, and then turned to face the crowd, one fist raised in victory. The mirror Drakes melded back into him, and he fell onto his ass, panting, scorched, but alive and smirking.

  Rose was the first one onto the field as the students erupted in cheers and applause, and Drake sighed in relief as she soothed his burns. “You definitely would’ve lost without the health boost…and I’m still mad at you.” She said, seeing he was fine, then standing and turning away with a huff.

  Gently, Drake stood up as well and turned her around. Guilt gripped his heart as he saw she’d been crying. Though she’d tried to hide it. “Listen, Rose, you know the task Laurelin gave me. You’ve seen my Status.” She nodded. She’d asked him if he really intended to try saving the God of Monsters after their first time together. He’d answered that even Dagorath had once been decent, but warped by a powerful darkness only Laurelin seemed to fully understand. For all she’d done for him and Falkor, he at least had to try getting her little boy back. “I’m going to end up in dangerous fights. And I need you to understand that I’m very motivated to live through them. So long as I have you…?”

  He let his inflection turn the statement into a question, and she finally nodded. “You will always have me. I just…don’t like watching you get hurt, and not being able to stop it.”

  Drake smirked at her. “Then I won’t battle without you again. We’ll make it a…Double Duel next time.”

  Rose smirked up at him, unable to resist that charming face. “That’s…not a thing.”

  “Has anyone tried it?”

  “Well…no, I don’t think so, but-”

  The rest of what she said was lost as Drake leaned in and kissed her. It was a tender moment…right up until the crowd started cheering again, reminding them of where they were. They sighed softly, in unison, simultaneously muttering, “To be continued…”

  Then, the cheers died, as a giant black claw gripped the edge of the crater, and Skalos Lycaon used it to leap up back to the field. Drake stepped in front of Rose, as he stalked towards them, but the anger in his eyes was lessened. “Drrrake Long…I admit defeat. You won, and did so fairly… with some help from your Upper Classmen.” He held out a claw. “I am a wolf of my word…no more thrashing the weak, as agreed.”

  Drake gave him a small smile, and nodded, taking the hand, and shaking it. “You’d grow more from opponents at your level, anyway. I hope next time we can fight as allies, Skalos.”

  The Luparyn snorted. “Unlikely…but not impossible.” He raised his voice then, as he turned to depart the field. “Enjoy your victory, Strongest First Year.”

  The crowd erupted again, reveling in the sportsmanship and the lack of skullduggery from Skalos, and Drake took in his cheering peers as the lighting of the sky shifted to sunset. Class Seven joined them on the field as he and Rose walked off. As they discussed what to eat to celebrate Drake hitting level seventy, a voice entered his head.

  “Drake Long. I must speak with you. Depart from your group, and join me by the bleachers. I have information that will help you with Purging the Wallow.”

  Drake went quiet for a moment, though only Rose noticed, and he excused himself, jogging over to where whoever had contacted him desired to meet. It wasn’t exactly subtle, as there were still tons of students around, and his white robe gave him away, but Lena had waited too long already.

  “Are you the one who contacted me?” Drake asked. “I thought interpersonal mental communication spells…didn’t exist.”

  “It’s new.” The hooded figure said. All he could tell was that she was an elf of some kind, and a high level, at one hundred and five. “Listen, I have to be quick. Eridion Pandarus is planning something with the Final Boss of the Wallow Dungeon, and the Final Boss of the Wardengrave Dungeon. It involves the God of Monsters as well. I don’t know the exact details, I just know things will turn bad, very bad, if nobody stops him.”

  Drake’s brow furrowed. “Pandarus…why does that name ring a bell…look lady, I don’t know who he is, and…I was planning on dealing with Chronogrin anyway. Soon. It sounds like Pandarus’s plan will fall apart once we purge the Wallow, so…chill. It’s just going to take some time to prepare.” Time, and at least a few inventions, he thought quietly.

  She shook her hooded head. “There’s no time! You have to stop Pandarus first, before he-”

  Suddenly, the sky’s warm sunset orange hues bled into an ominous crimson, covering the city in an ominous red tint, and the majority of the Academy’s student body, along with the entirety of their faculty, felt it. The unmistakable presence of a rising evil. The sensing of this evil was not limited to the Academy though, powerful figures all across Arcadia’s capital city felt it at the same time. Those who’d been alive through the last Demon Lord’s invasion, the few who yet lived, recognized it immediately.

  “Oh Gods…no, it’s…it’s too late! I waited too long!” The hooded woman said, shuddering, as from the spire in the cityscape glowing with ominous power, a dark, grinning silhouette formed behind it. Everyone above level fifty, who was looking, stared in shocked awe, including Drake Long.

  Dagorath, God of Monsters, level ??? was floating behind the tower as a dark, incorporeal shadow, grinning maliciously.

  “So Ends the Era of Dungeons! The Age of Eradication begins now!” His dark, rolling laughter echoed across the city. “My gift to You, the people of Primus… Enjoy!”

  And then, as quickly as the shade of the God of Monsters had appeared, it vanished, leaving something arguably just as bad in its wake.

  Rising up from the glowing tower, as power stopped flowing into it, was a massive pair of leathery demonic wings that were familiar at least to Drake, and those who had faced those blessed by Dagorath before. The creature they belonged to was still transforming. He seemed at first like a corpulent man wearing…a two piece suit? But then, his form expanded violently, ripping apart into smoldering, exposed orange muscle. Black metal bands appeared around the swollen wrists of the grotesque monster, and four curling demonic horns sprouted from his new, enlarged, and hideous visage.

  Whatever Dagorath had spawned, it seemed consumed with pain from its transformation, and its roar of agony echoed over the city, as its stats solidified. Its level jumped from seventy eight, to eighty five, to one hundred and fifteen, before it finally stopped, and Drake gulped. That, even for him, was out of his league.

  Finally, it solidified from its transformation, its stats on display for all to read. Eridion Pandarus, Supreme Madjinn, level one hundred and fifteen, with what seemed like a title above his head, one that, as people seemed to read it, caused panic to spread throughout Primus.

  Demon Lord.

  Drake watched in disbelief, and grimaced, only looking away when he felt Rose running over and clinging to his arm. He wrapped it around her, and could feel her shaking slightly, her eyes wide in genuine terror. Drake muttered under his breath, though both of the High Elven women heard him.

  “...Fuck.”

  this is legit what our new Demon Lord's namesake looks like.