The battlefield of the Monarchs combined armies was a nightmare.
Corpses littered the ground in mounds that stretched as far as the eye could see, demons, ice elves, giants, their bodies broken and twisted, their blood soaking the ground. The stench of death was overwhelming, the air was filled with the screams of the dying, the clash of weapons, the roar of shadows and monsters still locked in combat.
The Shadow Legion was a relentless tide of darkness, their forms gleaming with violet light, their weapons carving paths of destruction through the enemy ranks. Marshals and Generals left wakes of devastation in their paths.
H'El stood at the center of the carnage, his fists dripping with demon blood, Kamish circled overhead, his dragon fire consuming entire battalions of ice elves. Steppenwolf carved through giants like wheat before a scythe. Quick moved faster than the eye could track, his speed turning enemies to dust.
And then Arthur appeared.
He descended from the sky, his eyes blazing violet. The moment he landed, everyone saw it.
He raised his hand.
"Return."
The command carried across the battlefield, the Shadow Legion responded instantly, their forms dissolving into dark smoke, flowing back toward their monarch. Marshals. Generals. Soldiers. All of them returned to Arthur's shadow.
The battlefield fell silent in mere moments.
The enemy armies demons, ice elves, giants, stared at the empty space where the shadows had been. They had been fighting for their lives moments ago, and now their enemies were gone.
But Arthur remained.
Raven appeared beside him, her eyes scanning the battlefield, her expression a mixture of confusion and awe. She had expected him to finish them, to annihilate them.
But Arthur did something she hadn't anticipated.
He rose into the sky, his voice carrying across the whole dimension.
He opened his hands.
Three portals appeared in the sky massive tears in reality, each one led to a different world, a different realm, a different home for the armies that had been brought here to fight and die.
"Go back to your worlds," Arthur said, his voice echoing. "This is the only act of mercy I will ever show you."
The enemy armies stared at him.
Demons. Ice elves. Giants. They stood frozen, their weapons still raised, their eyes wide with disbelief. They had been prepared to die. They had accepted that their Monarchs were dead the moment they saw him here, that they would be annihilated, that this was the end.
And now, the Shadow Monarch was offering them mercy.
They didn't waste the opportunity.
The demons moved first, rushing toward the portals, their eyes filled with desperate hope. The ice elves followed, their graceful forms disappearing into the swirling vortex. The giants lumbered after them, their massive bodies shaking the ground with each step.
Raven watched them go.
Her voice was barely a whisper. "I expected you to finish them all off."
Arthur descended, landing beside her amidst the bodies of the fallen. His eyes were fixed on the fleeing armies, his expression unreadable.
"Believe it or not," he said quietly, "many of them don't deserve death. They are forced to heed the call of their Monarchs." He paused. "Those trapped in the Gates are also ordered to kill humans, to be their prey. It is all a sick game to the Monarchs and Rulers."
His eyes glowed violet.
"One thing I am very tired of. Very sick of."
Raven's hand found his.
"But like I said," Arthur continued, "it is only one act of mercy. One I will not repeat again, because only one enemy remains."
His eyes met hers.
"The Dragon Monarch."
Raven squeezed his hand.
"Arise." Arthur said calmly.
The shadows around them shifted.
All who had died, demons, ice elves, giants their shadows rose from their corpses. Thousands upon thousands of forms, their bodies translucent, their eyes burning with violet light. They knelt before Arthur, a sea of darkness that stretched across the battlefield.
And then they returned to his shadow.
Raven watched them go, the souls of the fallen, the victims of a war that had never been theirs. She looked at Arthur, at the mercy he had shown to those who had never known mercy.
"Let's go home," she said.
Arthur smiled a tired, genuine smile.
"Let's."
They disappeared together, a gust of shadows and violet light, and the Dimensional Gap was empty once again.
.
.
.
.
The Fortress of Solitude -
The crystalline walls of the Fortress glowed with the cold light of the Arctic, their surfaces reflecting the pale glow of the perpetual twilight outside. Clark stood near the central console, his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the object that Arthur had given him. its violet light pulsing gently.
He had checked it every few hours, waiting for a sign, a signal, a message from the Shadow Monarch.
Nothing.
Until now.
The object began to glow even brighter, it started as a faint pulse, a soft, rhythmic beat.
Then it grew brighter, faster, its light intensifying until it filled the chamber with violet radiance.
Clark's eyes widened.
"This is it," he murmured. "The signal."
He didn't hesitate.
His hand closed around the object, and he squeezed.
The crystal shattered and Violet light exploded outward, engulfing him in a swirling vortex of energy. The Fortress dissolved around him, the crystalline walls, the Arctic snow, the cold light of the perpetual twilight, all of it replaced by something that blurred his vision.
Clark felt himself being pulled, twisted, and teleported.
And then he landed.
He stumbled forward, his boots hitting solid ground, his eyes blinking against the sudden change in light. He was no longer in the Arctic. No longer in the Fortress. He was somewhere warm, now somewhere green.
Clark straightened and he looked around.
He was on an island, a small, uninhabited island in the middle of the Pacific. Palm trees swayed in the breeze. The ocean stretched to the horizon in every direction, its waters a deep, endless blue. Birds circled overhead.
And in front of him, a Gate pulsed.
It was massive, larger than many Gates he had seen before, its surface swirling with colors that he isn't familiar with. It was different from the usual Gates.
Clark studied it.
"Arthur wants me to enter this Gate?" he said to himself. "It seems it appeared here on an uninhabited island... pretty dangerous.." He paused. "Either we really lack Hunters to deal with this, or this is something only I can handle, and that's why he wants me here."
His eyes narrowed.
"It does look strange compared to the usual Gates."
He took a step forward.
"Well, only one way to find out."
He entered the Gate.
.
.
.
The transition was instantaneous.
Clark stepped through the Gate and found himself in a world that was not his own. The sky was a deep, blood-red crimson, its surface churning with clouds that seemed to move against the wind. The ground beneath his feet was volcanic, cracked with fissures that glowed with faint orange light.
And in the distance, a castle rose.
It was massive, a fortress of dark stone and jagged spires, its walls bristling with weapons and banners. Its gates were open, and from those gates, a column of riders emerged.
They were knights, tall, armored, their armor was black, inscribed with runes that glowed with the same crimson light as the sky. Their mounts were wyverns, massive, leathery-winged creatures. Each knight carried a banner, each banner emblazoned with a symbol that Clark did not recognize.
There were at least twenty of them.
Clark's eyes widened.
"What the hell is all of this..." He watched the column of knights form up, their formation tight. "It seems they were preparing to leave.. to emerge in our world."
The demon knights noticed him.
Their heads turned. Their predatory eyes, fixed on him. Their hands moved to their weapons. Their mounts snarled, their wings twitching.
They spoke to each other in a language that Clark did not understand, a guttural, harsh tongue. He didn't need to understand the words to know what they meant.
They didn't like his presence here.
Clark rose into the air, his cape billowing behind him, his eyes fixed on the knights. His hands clenched into fists. His eyes began to glow red with heat vision.
"I see what Arthur wanted here," he murmured. "He probably anticipated this and wanted me to deal with them before they got to Earth." His eyes narrowed. "And if he wanted me to do this instead of him, it means these knights are extremely strong."
The demon knights formed a battle line.
Their wyverns roared and their weapons rose.
Clark's voice carried across the battlefield.
"Bring it on, then." and he launched himself forward.
/-\
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