CHAPTER 97: A HOSTILE TAKEOVER

She stopped in the dead center of the room, a queen surveying her new, conquered territory.

Then, she looked up.

Her gaze met mine from across the hundred-foot expanse of the atrium.

A slow, condescending smile touched her lips, a perfect curve of arrogant beauty.

"So," her voice echoed in the sudden, ringing silence, a sound like the cracking of ancient ice.

"You are the Tyrant of Aethelburg."

"The upstart brute who has been making so much noise."

I gave her my best, most charmingly evil grin.

"And you must be the new landlady," I replied, my voice a smooth, mocking baritone. "I’m afraid I don’t like what you’ve done with the place. A bit too much... silver."

Her smile didn’t falter.

She raised a single, elegant hand.

A ball of swirling, chaotic shadow magic, so dense it seemed to bend the light around it, formed in her palm.

"I am unimpressed," she said.

That was my cue.

"NOW!" I roared, the command a physical shockwave of sound.

The library exploded.

From the shadows of a thousand bookshelves, my army surged forth.

A tidal wave of green skin, black fur, and rusted iron, crashing into the disciplined lines of her Dark Elves.

At the same time, Sarah unleashed her spell.

BOOM!

A beam of pure, annihilating darkness shot from her palm, not at my army, but directly at my command post.

The wind shrieked as the beam tore through the air, a lance of pure void.

"My Lord!" Isabelle yelled, moving to stand in front of me.

"I’ve got this!" a voice, full of arrogant glee, shouted.

Setanta, my legendary, gacha-pulled demigod, was a blur of fiery red hair and green cloth.

BOOM!

The ground cracked under his feet as he launched himself into the path of the beam.

He held his spear, Gáe Bolg, not to block, but to attack.

He thrust it forward, directly into the heart of the shadow beam.

CRACK!

The sound was apocalyptic.

The legendary spear met the Queen’s magic in a detonation of pure, untamed energy.

A massive shockwave of swirling light and shadow erupted from the point of impact, blasting outwards in a perfect, expanding sphere.

The very foundations of the library trembled.

Bookshelves toppled like dominoes, sending a rain of paper and dust down upon the battlefield.

Setanta was thrown backward, skidding across the marble floor, his clothes smoking, a wide, bloodthirsty grin on his face.

"Hah! Now that’s a proper welcome!" he laughed.

Sarah’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, a flicker of genuine shock that a single warrior could meet her A-Rank spell head-on and still be standing.

That was the only opening I needed.

This was no longer a war of armies.

This was a war of kings.

And it was time for me to make my entrance.

"Isabelle! Chloe! Take command!" I roared, my voice now a low, predatory growl. "Keep her forces busy! She’s mine!"

BOOM!

I vaulted over the balcony of my command post, my long, dark coat billowing behind me like the wings of a vengeful god.

The fifty-foot drop was nothing.

BOOM!

I landed in the center of the atrium, the marble floor shattering under the impact of my boots.

A crater of spiderwebbed cracks exploded outwards from where I stood.

The wind shrieked, a vortex of displaced air swirling around me.

I straightened up, my red eyes fixed on only one target.

Sarah.

The battle raged around us, a chaotic, beautiful storm of steel and magic.

My Bloodkin were forces of nature.

BOOM! CRACK! BOOM!

A constant, percussive symphony of sonic booms and shockwaves filled the air.

Fenris and Grunt were a two-monster wrecking ball, their claws and maul turning Sarah’s elite Dark Elf soldiers into a fine red paste.

Reina was a crimson-streaked meteor, her explosive punches shattering the ranks of the nigh-indestructible shadow golems.

But I saw none of it.

My world had narrowed to the hundred feet of shattered marble between me and the Demon Queen.

"A brute, you called me?" I purred, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. "Let me show you what a brute can really do."

BOOM!

The ground exploded under my feet.

I was not a man anymore. I was a missile. A phantom of impossible speed that made the air itself scream in protest.

Sarah reacted with the instincts of a true high-level player.

A wall of shimmering, solid shadow, ten feet thick, erupted from the floor in front of her.

I didn’t even slow down.

BOOM!

My fist, wreathed in my own chaotic, vampiric darkness, connected with the wall.

CRACK!

A massive shockwave of pure force erupted from my knuckles.

The shadow wall didn’t just break.

It disintegrated.

It vaporized into a fine, black powder.

The force of the blast ripped through the air, a physical wave of pressure that sent Sarah staggering backward, her elegant dress whipping around her, her protective aura flickering violently.

"You can’t win like this, brute!" she shrieked, her composure finally breaking.

She glided backward, her feet barely touching the ground, her hands weaving intricate patterns in the air, summoning a dozen smaller, faster shadow lances.

"I am a Queen of Magic!" she screamed. "You are nothing but a beast in a fancy coat!"

The spears shot towards me, a howling, shrieking storm of dark energy.

I just smiled.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

I moved, a phantom in the storm of darkness.

I didn’t dodge.

I weaved.

My new A-Rank Body wasn’t just about strength.

It was about a level of speed and reflexes that turned her desperate barrage into a slow, predictable light show.

I slapped one spear aside with the back of my hand, the shadow magic sizzling against my skin, a minor, pleasant tingle.

I ducked under another.

I sidestepped a third.

I was in her face before she could even summon a second volley.

Her eyes, the color of cold, dead stars, widened with a dawning, beautiful, and utterly satisfying terror.

She was a queen of magic.

A ranged artillery cannon.

And I had just closed the distance.

The game was over.

Her hand went to a small, crystalline pendant around her neck. A teleportation charm. A last-ditch escape.

Too slow.

My hand shot out, a blur of pale white, and clamped around her throat.

My grip was gentle, almost delicate.

But it held the strength of a collapsing star.

The spell she was about to cast died on her lips.

I lifted her off the ground, her feet dangling uselessly in the air.

The raging battle around us seemed to fall silent.

Every eye, monster and elf, was on us.

I looked into her terrified, furious eyes.

"It seems," I said, my voice a low, dangerous purr that was for her alone, "that the brute has you by the throat."

"Now, Your Majesty," I added, my smile all fangs and no humor.

"Shall we discuss the terms of your unconditional surrender?"

------------------

The library atrium was a frozen tableau of violence.

The battle had stopped.

My monstrous legions and her disciplined Dark Elves stood in a tense, silent standoff, their weapons held ready, their eyes locked on the two figures at the center of the storm.

Me.

And the Queen.

I held her dangling by her throat, my grip a casual, unbreakable cage of A-Rank power.

Her beautiful face was a mask of fury, humiliation, and a dawning, helpless terror.

The arrogant smirk was gone, replaced by the wide-eyed shock of a predator that had just realized it had become the prey.

"Let’s try this again," I purred, my voice a low, intimate whisper that was for her alone.

"I believe we were discussing the terms of your unconditional surrender."

Her eyes, the color of cold, dead stars, blazed with a defiant fire.

She tried to speak, to spit a curse, but my grip was just tight enough to make it impossible.

A faint, choking sound was all she could manage.

"Ah, ah, ah," I chided, giving her a little shake, like a naughty kitten.

"Manners, Your Majesty. We’ll get to the witty banter later. For now, just listen."

I leaned in close, my face inches from hers, my red eyes drinking in her fear.

"Here’s the deal," I began, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur, the tone of a CEO explaining the terms of a very hostile, very final takeover.

"You have two options."

"Option A: You and your remaining forces put down your weapons, bend the knee, and swear eternal, unbreakable loyalty to me. You will become my subordinate. My property. Another shiny, powerful tool in my ever-expanding collection."

I smiled, a sharp, fanged thing that held no humor.

"In return, I will allow you and your most favored minions to live. A generous offer, I think you’ll agree."

I paused, letting the cold, brutal logic of it sink in.

"Then there’s Option B," I continued, my voice becoming a deadly whisper.

"You refuse. And I will give my commanders"—I glanced over at Isabelle and Chloe, who were watching with a cold, professional stillness—"a single, simple order."