Realm Lord

Arthur hit the ground hard, the impact forcing what little air remained in his lungs out in a pained gasp. Every nerve in his body screamed in protest, his muscles spasming uncontrollably. All his hair stood firm as if pulled by invisible strings, and his skin tingled with residual electricity that danced across his flesh. The world spun around him, thunder still echoing in his ringing ears.

The shock was delayed as he tried to get his bearings, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. His vision swam, darkness threatening to claim him, but he fought against unconsciousness with stubborn determination. Soon enough, he used what little strength he had left to prop himself up on trembling elbows, then push into a sitting position to see what had happened to Aziel.

His jaw hung low, mouth falling open in speechless awe when he saw the aftermath of the lightning strike. The scene before him defied belief, like something torn from ancient legends rather than the grim reality he had known moments before.

There were dead grimhounds scattering the ground in every direction, their corrupted bodies splayed at unnatural angles. And those were just the ones that weren’t immediately turned to ash—many had simply ceased to exist, leaving behind nothing but scorch marks on the sodden earth to prove they had ever been there at all.

At the epicenter of the destruction was a small crater, perfectly circular as if carved by divine hands. The ground was crystallized, dirt transformed to glass by the unimaginable heat of the lightning strike. And at the center of that crater stood a man...

His friend’s blue hair now stood firm, electrified and luminous, a much lighter complexion than before—almost white with power that seemed to pulse. His eyes, once a deep azure, now glowed with electric blue light that cut through the darkness. His entire body was covered in dancing arcs of lightning that crawled across his skin, occasionally leaping outward to strike the ground around him.

The spear in his hand stood tall and menacing. Lightning coiled around the shaft and concentrated at the tip, ready to be unleashed at his command. He gave off a presence that made it hard to breathe, the air around him charged and heavy with ozone. Power radiated from him in palpable waves, each pulse making Arthur’s dark sense tingle with recognition of something primal and untamed.

’What the hell...’ Arthur was in shock, his mind racing to comprehend the transformation before him. ’What just happened? Was it the lightning strike... did it recharge him? Awaken something?’

Arthur slowly brought himself up to his feet, muscles protesting every inch of the way, for a moment oblivious to everything around him besides his transformed friend. Hope kindled in his chest, a dangerous flame that threatened to blind him to the reality of their situation.

But suddenly something else took his attention, dragging him back to the dire circumstances they still faced. All the beasts around them... the ones lying dead on the floor, the grimhounds they had just killed with such effort and sacrifice... began to rise again.

The nightmarish resurrection happened in stages. First, severed limbs twitched and crawled across the muddied ground as if guided by unseen hands. Then bodies rolled over, black ichor seeping back into wounds that began to close before Arthur’s disbelieving eyes. The ones severed in two reconnected their bodies, black tendrils of corruption reaching out to bind the separated parts together once more. The ones with burnt-off limbs regrew what was gone.

They all rose one by one, shaking off death as if it were merely an inconvenience, and soon all the progress they had made had been for naught. The battlefield reset to its original state, except for the transformed Aziel and the increasingly fatigued Arthur.