*** Behemoth ***
Five- no, make that four filthy adventurers and one reanimated golem corpse stormed out of my ballroom like bats out of hell, each one igniting the air with glowing mana and screams that would shattered the glass of wine I had nearly forgotten by the throne.
Well, that just figures. At least the cushions are still out for cleaning from the last time. Now, where did my little mouse go? Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. If I can’t find her right now, then they probably can’t either.
“Relax, Rhu. This won’t take long.” The deep bass of my request barely made it past the rising whine of overheated air rushing from the rusted armor and trailing great sword of the paladin at the head of these adventurers.
“[Seraph Form]” A chipped and bent great sword started to gleam with the physical power-enhancing might of Light magic. Delicate mana channels in its surface formed a circuit which temporarily turned the sword whole again just as it smashed against my armored shoulder with all the exploding force of a bomb and all the effect of a particularly emaciated kitten.
I calmly brushed the blade aside with a gauntleted hand, chuckling “Well, that’s just plain rude. No introductions, no heroic speech extolling the greater good? Heroes these days…”
The knight drew back, his crude plate armor and body following his sword’s example as they expanded and hardened into the shimmering form of divine wrath that I’m sure he was well known for. After all, no man evolved into the paladin class without just a bit of that zealous rage.
The paladin finally opened his mouth, a trace of excitement dyeing his gruff voice “Jem, I’m going to need everything you’ve got. Excaliburn did jack squat.”
A rather harried young woman carrying the Book of Prophesy started chanting, runes of the mana-focused Faith magic cascading off her shoulders before crawling up the massive human’s armor, dying it red. “Keep him busy, Dale, I’ll get something more permanent set up.”
Well, this is interesting. I haven’t seen these two weapons in ages. Have the humans finally grown the balls to fight against me? It seems a bit odd that they would throw their two greatest artifacts down here with no plan or army. They couldn’t have forgotten the last time I sent them packing.
The plush carpet leading up to my throne sank beneath the weight of my dark armored form, the plates glowing a pale purple light as I activated the enchantments one by one. There was no use taking any chances if these two were, in fact, heroes. “System, activate [Battle armo-“
As if to spite my lazy pace, Dale rushed forwards once more, blade whistling before crushing the sound barrier in brutal finality, its edge finding its home across my breastplate. This time, we both flew across the room, barely avoiding the throne before smashing into the far wall, the carefully carved and painted fresco covering its surface crumbling around us.
Alright, no more mister nice demon. I spit boiling black blood in the face of the knight as he reeled from the stun of his own attack. His screams of pain were well-deserved for destroying the hard work of my minions.
I bit back a snarl and grabbed his slowly regenerating face “Let’s try this again. System, give me my damn [Battle Armor]!”
Every one of my hundred horns turned as black as the Midnight Steel armor on my back, every one of them growing and curling defensively over my head, torso and legs. The twelve on my arms were a different story, as they curled forwards into massive spikes. Before they could extend far enough to pierce the paladin’s skull, he vanished into a puff of smoke, reappearing next to a dwarf in shabby leather armor.
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“CAN YOU MOVE ANY SLOWER, GRIMEL? I ALMOST DIED” the light-clad warrior screamed down at the panting boy holding an unusually small knife in palms wet with cuts and his own blood. “I’m moving as fast as I can, you git! Transposition curses take forever to cast.”
Bound up in my arm’s spikes swung the corpse of one of my court dancer golems which had replaced the paladin. So, they have a heresy magic user as well. With… is that the Sacrificial Knife of Abbadon? What kind of backing do these Adventurers have?
I ripped apart the corpse of my loyal minion (may they rest in peace) and charged the foolish trio. It didn’t matter how weak they were, now. Those artifacts were not to leave this room. Especially that knife. Blood curses were not to leave the dwarven lands. I thought I had made that very clear to them on their last invasion, but apparently the dwarves were very hard of hearing.
The saintess named Jem snapped her book closed and threw it upwards, the book freezing in midair to create a bubble of protection around the three of them as they regrouped into fighting stances. These three were really going to be a thorn in my side. I could tell that already.
Wait, wasn’t there another one- ah, there she is. The fourth member of their party was currently cowering under one of the potted dungeon flowers I had hanging in a corner. The mousey, brown haired girl seemed to be hiding, but with a pack that was nearly the size of me, I couldn’t see how she thought this would work.
It seemed they brought their baggage carrier into the final boss room. However, just looking behind her made it clear why. A straight line of destroyed floor tiles led from the door straight to that plant. Just how heavy is that pack?!?
My precious floor, which had survived the toughest of fights and even held up against that paladin’s assault had been cracked just from the weight of that girl’s pack as she ran for cover. Right beside the girl, my little Rhu burrowed through the side of the pack, easily slipping through the dense material. It seems these adventurers have their own little mouse. Though I think I should leave those two alone. That one’s physical power must be insane.
My great makeshift claws scraped against the surface of the barrier, bending it inch by inch as Jem burst into a cold sweat. Faith magic was quite taxing, and I knew that all too well. The dwarf frantically plunged his knife into his thighs on borrowed time, blood curling up into elaborate Heresy magic circles. Those were going to be annoying, but it’s nothing I couldn’t handle. If that paladin was gone, this fight was as good as over.
With an almighty crash, the barrier exploded into motes of light, sending that annoying book to the floor with smoking pages. Dale’s sword rose up to block an easy swipe from my claws, resorting to a defensive stance in front of his struggling companions. However, his time was up.
One by one, the red runes along his armor popped and sizzled out of existence. The book’s enchantments were all extremely powerful, but they ran out way too quickly. If these three had another decade- no, another year of training, this might have been a decent fight. As it was, though, they were far too weak.
[Monster king secret art: The Ex-Wife] The world slowed around me, the precious crystal in my grand chandelier and fine art along my walls burnt to fuel the martial ritual. I really hate using such a costly ability, but I wanted this to be over as soon as possible.
Dozens of furious blows rained from my arms into the paladin’s rapidly shrinking defense. Blood magic circles clashed every swipe of my spikes, sinking into their surface and dulling their impact against the rapidly deforming sword and armor.
This is too easy. Four adventurers, four heroes, four kingdoms. It’s almost poetic in a way. I suddenly froze, the gasping paladin burning the last of his mana to re-form his sword. He looked incredibly confused at the sudden pause but wasn’t going to complain.
There are only three kingdoms, four heroes, and four divine instruments here. That’s not anywhere near enough to beat the last guardian at their level. In a single flash of a memory, I saw her again. The laughing demon bathing in the blood of heroes and monsters alike on a field of burned corpses.
No… they couldn’t have… In the last second of my slowed time, I barely caught a glimpse of a shadow peaking out from right beneath my feet with laughing red eyes.