Space and time broke and I was forced to extend my presence to reform it. Chrono shot me an irritated look as he was forced to adjust in his clash with a massive fish seemingly made of lightning, startling me.

Sometimes I wondered how much Adam’s children truly knew about their world, before an apocalyptic collison drew my attention.

Far above the battlefield, Micheal and Dargonth met, The King and The Tyrant. A seemingly endless stream of black fire poured out of the dragon's maw, infused with his arrogant path. Micheal met it with poise and grace, and for a second both armies seemed to pause as they tried their best to keep from being roasted by fire hot enough to scorch the sun itself.

Micheal reached out a hand, crown flaring with golden radiance, like a third sun beside Sol’s and Adam’s.

“Mine” he commanded, ripping the fire from Dargonth control and bringing it under his power. He then directed it to Promoth who seized it and turned it against the enemy, his divine ruby flaring as it focused his power.

Dargonth tried again, this time striking out with a massive claw, which Micheal smoothly dodged, commanding space to unroll a path before him and stepping through it. Again and again, Dargonth struck out in fury, and again and again, Micheal neutralized him with echoing commands.

Nearly an hour passed of this back and forth, with Micheal passively defending and Dargonth trying to destroy him.

Finally, Dargonth roared in fury. “Coward” he snarled, the words rolling across the battlefield, “Face me!” His aura surged, power, fire, tyranny and other concepts merging into his unique blend, and Micheal met it with his regal authority. They froze in the air as the battle became more spiritual in nature. Dargonth was overwhelming, but Micheal faced him steadfastly, like a King sitting on his throne in a besieged fortress.

Finally, the dragon snorted, withdrew the spiritual attack and turned his attention down to the battlefield. “Trying to delay me, huh. You think that with Adam's other brats, you would stand a chance.”-- he snorted, blowing black fire– “think again.”

His aura redoubled, the sheer shock of it almost throwing Micheal from the side. His mouth turned down in a grimace. The dragon had just been playing with him, and even then he had needed the entirety of his power to hold him back. As it was now… Micheal would need to reach beyond his limits, and even then he didn’t know if he could even delay the dragon.

Dargonth chuckled at his grimace. “What would you do if I took to the battlefield right now? If I spread death among you lines?”

Micheal tensed, prepared to burn his path to stop the dragon. Thankfully, Dargonth, having established his dominance, was content with playing with its prey. Its mighty wings stopped flapping, but it stayed in the air by virtue of its will, sitting down on thin air as if it was solid rock. “Don’t worry, little King, I wouldn't do that. That's what subordinates are for. And they dont look like they need any help.”

“You would leave your subordinate to die?”

“Why not? Don’t be deceived by their power. They are not like you and me. Their spirituality is weak, and their minds feeble. Their power and their shackle is from mere blood. They are puppets, powerful puppets to be sure, but empty puppets. I will not waste my effort on them. Besides, they dont look like they need any help.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Indeed, the humans were struggling after the initial shock of their strike had worn off. Individually, they were unmatched, but they were not even a thousand facing hordes tens if not hundreds of times that. Even his siblings were struggling, locked in deadly conflict deep in enemy lines with beast princes, that while not individually their match, had dozens of powerful awakened beasts backing them up. Some, like Hercules were thriving, aura continually rising as he was met with more and more resistance, his lion-skin cloak repelling all the dared face him, turning him into a hurricane of violence. Others were struggling more, with Ceres, Frey and Dio banding together, paths working in tandem to sprout monstrous forests, brimming with the endless vitality of summer and the madness of man unleashed. Their forest shredded any normal and awakened beasts, but enshrined in its center, they struggled to put down the nearly half-dozen princes of decay and fire forcing their way through. Even Loki was doing his part, trapping nearly half a dozen princes in illusions so potent they seemed like other worlds. On the front lines, their descendants struggled, led by Gilded and Hestia. Even with his siblings thinning their ranks, the tide of beasts seemed endless. Still, Gilded merged their power into something new, constantly redistributing individual paths to where they were needed to most, putting down normal and awakened beasts alike, and even downing a prince personally when it slipped past Thoth’s intricate traps. Hestia’s healing light spread across the battlefield, invigorating and empowering their descendants, and reminding them what they were fighting for.

Still, it was clear that humanity was being pushed back, slowly at first, and then with increasing speed, despite their ferocity and power.

Micheal’s heart bled as he watched his children fall, but he could do nothing.

“Why?” he asked. “Why couldn't we just live in peace?”

The lounging dragon yawned, “You should know better than anyone. It is my path. To be the strongest, the greatest. It is what defines me, and it is what I shall pursue. I am justified in my pursuit by the highest greatest of truths, and you can do nothing about it.”

Micheal did indeed understand. The obsession that drove one to pursue a path, the length they would go for it. The ways it warped their very being in its image. He knew better than anyone. Might made right in this lawless world, with all paths being forced to secede before the most powerful.

And yet he could not accept it.

His aura flared as he refused to bend before a greater power. Refused to bend before the facts of reality. He was The King, and he would not be constrained by that which he ruled.

Dargonth looked at him with amusement. “Can’t handle the truth, little King?” he mocked. “So weak. I always wondered why HE favored you.” He trained his gaze upon me.

“HE favors us because we are more than our cruelty. We are more than beasts.”

Dargonth shrugged, the expression strange on his dragon body. “I wonder what HE will think when I pull him down from the heavens and devour him, piece by piece?”

I chuckled, pitying the little wyrm. He did not understand.

Divinity was more than power.

Micheal’s expression twisted as he reached deeper into himself, searching for the power that would let him take the next step.

“It's futile, little king. Why struggle?”

Micheal wasn’t listening, too lost in himself to pay attention.

Might may make right, but it didn’t have to. There were things beyond might, things beyond power.

All things must kneel before their king, no matter their power.

His mantle burst from his back in an explosion of azure-gold power, supercharging his aura and bending the world to his will for a split second before retreating.

Dargonth, exploded to his feet, startled. “What was that, little king?”

Micheal answered with another awe-inspiring aura burst before it once more receded.

He was on the brink of the next step.

So close… just a few more minutes…

But Dargonth didn't give him that time, flaring his aura as he dove towards Micheal with vicious intent.

Micheal managed to bring himself to awareness just in time to redirect another sky-shaking blow.

And the battle was joined anew.