Shadow Monarch in DC
Chapter 520: Armies of the Monarchs
Raven’s eyes swept across the horizon, and her breath caught in her throat, the demon army of the Demon Monarch stretched as far as she could see, a sea of twisted forms and burning eyes, of claws and fangs and weapons that gleamed with magic. They stood in perfect formation, ready for war.
She had seen armies before, she had marched through Hell itself alongside Arthur, had witnessed the legions of demons that served her father, but this was somewhat different.
These demons were made for war, as if that was the only thing they ever knew.
"If this kind of army ever enters Earth," she murmured to herself, "the amount of destruction they would cause would be catastrophic."
She shook her head slowly.
"There are so many, more than the Gotham Gate." Her eyes narrowed. "It seems these Monarchs’ armies are clearly not very consistent, each one is vastly different."
Veythur’s wings beat steadily beneath her, carrying her closer to the enemy. The wind whipped her hair back. "And Arthur is willing to take them all on his own," she continued, her voice carrying a note of wonder. "If only the people of Earth saw this... understood the type of will and sacrifice one would have in order to face this type of threat alone... they would worship him.."
She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of his burden, then she opened them and narrowed them.
"Veythur," she commanded. "Dive."
The dragon folded his wings.
"Hang tight, my Queen."
They plummeted and the wind screamed past them, the demon army rushing up to meet them. Veythur’s maw opened, fire building in his throat,
CRACK and Something shattered.
A spear, massive, barbed, crackling with demonic energy pierced Veythur’s neck. The dragon’s roar turned into a gurgle. His wings went limp. His body tumbled through the air, crashing into the ground with a force that sent shockwaves across the battlefield.
Raven leaped.
She hit the ground rolling, her magic cushioning her fall, her eyes already scanning for the threat. Veythur lay nearby, his shadow form flickering, his wound already beginning to close, but the damage had been done.
And Baran stood a few meters away.
The Demon Monarch was even more imposing up close. His armor gleamed with dark energy, his greatsword resting across his shoulders, his eyes burning with amusement. His wyvern, more dragon than wyvern circled above him, its maw dripping with fire.
"You..." Baran’s voice was a low rumble. "A demon... You are the child of that Trigon, are you not?"
Raven straightened, her hands wreathed in dark magic. "I’m surprised you know him."
Baran’s smile was cold, predatory. "The shadow conceals himself and he sent you instead?" He paused, his eyes drifting downward. "Is he really that..."
His smile faltered and his eyes widened as he noticed her shadow.
He took a step back.
"They are here with you," he breathed. "Of course... Not a bad strategy."
Raven smiled and her shadow exploded.
The Shadow Legion emerged from the darkness like a tide of vengeance, thousands upon thousands of shadows, their forms gleaming with violet light, their eyes burning. H’El led the charge, his form radiating power, his voice a roar that echoed across the battlefield.
"CHARGE!"
The shadows surged forward, the demon army answered.
The clash was apocalyptic.
Hundreds of thousands of soldiers collided in a wave of violence that shook the very foundations of the Dimensional Gap. The shadow legion and demons locked in combat, their weapons clashing, their screams echoing across the battlefield. The ground itself seemed to groan beneath the weight of the conflict.
Raven watched from above, her magic lifting her into the sky and her eyes widened.
"What a battle..." she breathed. "These scenes remind me of our battles in Hell."
Below, the battle raged on a cinematic display of destruction that defied comprehension.
And then, in the distance, a fist connected with Baran’s face who were about to aim his next attack at Raven.
Arthur, the Shadow Monarch had appeared from nowhere, his fist driving into the Demon Monarch’s jaw with enough force to send him crashing into his own army. Demons scattered, crushed beneath the weight of their fallen master.
Baran rose, wiping blood from his face.
Arthur stood in front of him, his spear crackling with lightning, his eyes blazing violet.
And then they were gone, Arthur’s hand closed around Baran’s arm, and they teleported,disappearing from the battlefield, leaving the armies to fight without them.
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Far from the Battlefield
Arthur emerged from the shadows, Baran stumbling beside him.
They stood in a barren expanse of the Dimensional Gap, a place where the swirling mists were thin, where the ground was solid and flat, where nothing existed but the two of them and what was about to happen.
Baran straightened, his greatsword rising.
"There you have it," he said, with an amused tone. "You isolated me from my army. Well done."
Arthur’s spear crackled with lightning. His eyes glowed violet.
"Cut the bullshit," he said flatly. "Call the others."
Baran’s eyes widened, then he smiled.
"You are quite smart, aren’t you?" He shook his head slowly. "You knew from the start that this was a trap, but you still showed up." His smile sharpened. "No matter. Whether you knew or not, it changes nothing."
He raised his hand.
Two portals opened, tears in reality that crackled with energy. Two figures stepped through, their forms radiating power, their eyes fixed on Arthur.
Sillad, the Frost Monarch. His presence was a chill that seeped into the bones.
Legia, the Giant Monarch. His form was massive compared to the three of them, his steps shaking the ground, and his eyes burned red. They circled Arthur, three Monarchs, three enemies united by a single purpose.
"Today you will die, traitor." Baran said, his voice cold, "Once and for all. But fear not, the Rulers will soon follow you."
Sillad’s voice was flat, his eyes fixed on Arthur. "This will be payback for the humiliation you inflicted on me."
Legia’s laugh was a low rumble. "No hard feelings, really." He spread his massive hands. "But you must die, Monarch of the Dead."
Arthur smiled.
"Do your worst."
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Raven watched from above as the chaos below intensified.
And then the portals opened, they appeared in the sky massive tears in reality, crackling with energy, disgorging armies that had not been there before. Ice elves poured through, their forms pale and elegant, their weapons gleaming with frozen light. Ice bears followed, their roars shaking the ground. Giants emerged, massive, lumbering, their footsteps creating shockwaves that sent shadows flying.
The Shadow Legion was now fighting three armies at once.
Raven’s eyes widened.
"Arthur was right," she breathed. "The other two Monarchs appeared as well."
She watched the battle unfold, the shadows holding their ground, but only just. They were immortal, regenerating, but they were also outnumbered. Three armies pressing against them from all sides.
"Thankfully, his army is immortal," Raven said to herself. "Ever-regenerating shadows. But that depends on Arthur." Her eyes narrowed. "If they manage to wear him down, he won’t be able to sustain his army."
She looked at the distant point where Arthur had teleported with Baran.
She knew what she had to do.
"I need to help him," she said. "The Monarchs he is fighting, if they manage to wear him down... we will lose."
Her eyes glowed with power and then she teleported.
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Earth - The Fortress of Solitude -
Clark Kent was in the middle of a call with a member of the Justice league, when the temperature in the room shifted.
It was subtle but his head snapped toward the entrance, his eyes narrowing.
Igris stepped out of the shadows.
Clark raised a hand, his expression cautious but not alarmed.
"Igris," Clark said, his voice calm. "What brings you here?"
The Shadow Knight bowed, a gesture of respect, but also of formality.
"Greetings, Superman." His said. "I have a message to give you from my Monarch."
Clark’s brow furrowed. "From Arthur? Is something wrong?"
Igris straightened. He reached into the folds of his armor and withdrew something, a small object, crystalline and dark, its surface pulsing with faint violet light. He handed it to Clark with both hands, as if offering something sacred.
Clark took it.
The object was warm to the touch, he turned it over in his hands, examining it, trying to understand its purpose.
"That is all, keep it and once it glows, break it." Igris said, his voice flat, "and wait for my Monarch’s call."
Clark’s eyes narrowed. "Okay.... but are you going to explain what this is about?"
Igris turned away.
His form began to dissolve into shadow.
"I guess not," Clark muttered.
Igris’s voice echoed one last time, already fading.
"You will know when the time comes."
And then he was gone.
The shadow receded, leaving only the faint chill of his presence.
Clark stared at the space where the Knight had stood, his hand still wrapped around the object in his palm.
Clark shook his head slowly. "I have no idea what he is up to, but it sounds super important... very well Arthur, I will wait for this call of yours."
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