Does he possess strength, as legends tell? Did he conquer a thousand, in battles fierce and swell? Is he truly the Dark King, as the stories unfold? In the crucible of truth, his might shall be told.

Menes VS The 3 Commanders

"Hey, you guys go ahead. I need to go to the toilet," Khonsu said, fidgeting in urgent need.

"Alright," Kamil replied.

"But I don't know where it is," Khonsu admitted.

"Oh, yeah, you're a bit shy. I just remembered. No worries, Khonsu, I'll ask for you," Kamil offered.

"Hey, Lieutenant Eboke, where is the washroom?" Kamil inquired.

Eboke turned and said, "Oh, I'll guide you. Please follow me."

"Okay," Khonsu replied, hurrying to catch up with Eboke.

"He always seems to miss the main events, doesn't he?" Ramon remarked jokingly.

"You're right. He just gets unlucky," Kasib agreed.

"Anyway, let's go inside," Kamil suggested, turning the handle with a decisive click.

The group entered; their expressions still unaware of anything amiss. Smiles and frowns adorned their faces, as if nothing was awry. But in the next instant, before they could even blink, their souls were assailed by the dark energy emanating from the Commanders.

Particles of darkness swirled around the group, a level of power they had never encountered before. Their eyes widened in disbelief, their bodies frozen, unable to even flinch. In the depths of Kamil's mind, a few words encapsulated the moment, "What is this power that has shaken my soul?"

The group was visibly affected, sweat glistening on their skin from the overwhelming presence of the Commander's power. They were utterly unprepared for this. Never in their lives had they been exposed to such raw force. Jack's facial expression conveyed it all—eyes wide, mouth agape, gasping for air. His body had momentarily forgotten how to breathe, his forehead drenched in sweat, and his hair pushed back by the sheer force of the dark energy. It felt as if death itself had brushed by the group.

Yet, the onslaught didn't culminate there. Among the group, there was one who was intimately acquainted with such power; it was, after all, the one thing he knew how to wield expertly.

Emerging from the shadows, where light dared not venture, were eyes as white and sharp as the edge of a blade, framed by a sinister smile. Ramon, armed with his proficiency in Dark energy, stood poised to shield the group. His face contorted into an intense visage; his power might not have exceeded the Commander's, but it proved effective in freeing the group from their temporary paralysis.

As Ramon unleashed his power, the group all began to breathe heavily, as if they had just ran a hundred meters. Ramon's gaze remained fixed on the Commanders, his eyes wide like a predator eyeing its prey. Without a second's hesitation, he strode to a nearby sofa, the rest of the group following suit. The wooden structure was cushioned, providing some comfort. Ramon's eyes stayed sharp and focused, unwavering. The onslaught of dark energy from the Commanders showed no signs of abating. Ramon did his utmost to shield the group, drawing on every ounce of knowledge imparted by Menes.

While exerting their dark energy to assess the group, the Commanders had already formed their impressions, discerning strengths and weaknesses.

In their private thoughts, they mused:

"Well, the only formidable one here is the individual wielding Dark energy. What a letdown. And where is Commander Menes? I wish to witness his prowess." - General Amon Khaldun, Head of the Nubia Kingdom's Forces.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"These are mere ants scuttling on the ground. I yearn to witness true power, the power of the Dark King. Where is he?" - Commander Kairo, the Child Prodigy.

Commander Kairo

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"What a disappointment. However, I believe they have potential to grow stronger in the future. But where is Commander Menes?" - Commander Octavius Drexel.

These silent reflections etched the Commanders' impressions of the group. Yet, one man was still absent – Commander Menes, the Dark King of the royal army.

Kamil, still perspiring from the intense encounter, whispered to Ramon, "Are they using dark energy?"

Ramon, equally affected, nodded grimly. "Yes, and it's strong. Way too strong. It's only a matter of time before I run out."

Kasib, having regained his composure, muttered, "These commanders... I'll deal with them later." Yet, in the depths of his thoughts, a nagging doubt persisted, "If they're this powerful, how can I ever hold my own against any of them? How can I become a true warrior if I can't defeat them?"

Jack, the least endowed in terms of power and still recovering, was drenched in sweat, his expression a mix of anger and worry. He muttered to the group, "I've never seen or felt anything like this before. This is bad. Where is the commander? We need his help."

Kamil vented his frustration, "You're right. Why is he always missing at crucial moments like this?" His discontent with Menes' decisions was palpable.

With a sharp click, the doorknob turned, and the door began to swing open. Menes, a piece of bread in hand and mouth, strolled into the room, his footfalls resonating through the space. He scanned the room, trying to piece together what had transpired.

In the inner musings of General Amon, he noted, "So, this is Commander Menes. Well, he doesn't exude too much power."

Commander Kairo couldn't help but think, "What a waste of time. This old man is just munching on bread, and they call him the strongest."

Commander Octavius Drexel chimed in, "Well, well, well. What a surprise. He's just casually eating bread. Quite the display of power."

As Menes gradually comprehended the situation, a smile spread across his face, finishing the last of the bread in his mouth.

"So, you want to showcase power, huh?" Menes chuckled. "Alright, then I'll show you." His countenance shifted to one of seriousness as he began to stride towards Ramon.

Menes's next step spoke volumes.

Thud.

The once vibrant room seemed to transition into a grayscale film. The circles and energy radiating from that singular footstep Menes took sent reverberations through the very soul of the palace. Swirls of small, dense black lines emanated from the floor, while particles of dark matter swirled around the Commanders. Menes's eyes turned a fiery red, and his grin stretched to monstrous proportions in the shadowy silhouette he cast.

Suddenly, all the Commanders bolted upright, their eyes widening beyond what they had ever imagined. It was as if their lives had taken a harrowing turn for the worst. General Amon found himself sweating, his thoughts racing, "This power... this power is fit for a king."

Kairo, who had held himself in high regard, now conjured a humbling image in his mind. It was the dark energy-infused, shadowy figure of Menes, with those menacing red eyes and that grotesque grin, deliberately stomping on Kairo as if he were no more than an ant beneath Menes's foot.

Commander Octavius Drexel, too, had his eyes widened to their limits. His breath came in ragged gasps as time seemed to stretch on. His hands were clasped tightly together, resembling a prayer, pressed close to his mouth. The tip of his finger was visibly between his teeth, as if he sought to anchor himself against the overwhelming fear. In the recesses of his mind, he acknowledged, "I can weave illusions, but this... This is no mere trick of the mind."

Outside the room, Eboke, who stood on guard, also sensed the surge of dark energy. His heart raced, and he stared at the door, witnessing particles of darkness seeping through the gaps along its edges. He muttered to himself, "This is not right. Let's hope the commanders are safe."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the palace, in the Pharaoh's room, as he placed his circular crown ring on his head, he paused to look at himself in the mirror. A self-assured smile curved on his lips. "This power I feel... it has to be his. The Dark King,"

As the tension began to ebb away, both Menes and the commanders ceased their use of dark energy. In the quiet aftermath, the commanders acknowledged the undeniable truth of Menes' remarkable strength. Each had their own revelation:

"So, he really is everything they say he is. Could he have truly defeated Zypher?" mused General Amon.

"He must've dismantled that fledgling organization even before it took form, with Henu Safir no less," Commander Octavius reflected, finding the reality hard to digest.

Their thoughts align seamlessly and effortlessly, as if in perfect harmony.

"If that's the case, then there's simply no way he eliminated 1000 men, some of whom possessed Chronotex abilities," Kairo speculated, struggling to come to terms with the enormity of the feat.

While these revelations churned in the minds of the commanders, Menes continued his stride towards Ramon and the group. As he drew nearer, he pulled out a handful of apples from his pocket, offering them with a casual air. "Here you go, I got these for you to munch on."

The group exchanged glances, a palpable awkwardness settling among them. Then, in an unexpected surge of joy, Kamil and Ramon shot up and enveloped Menes in a warm embrace.

"Commander, you're the best. You've always looked out for us, always saved us," they chimed in unison.

Jack and Kasib exchanged knowing glances, recognizing the swift turnaround.

"You two just did a complete switch-up. A few minutes ago, you were telling us how he doesn't do things properly," Jack pointed out with a wry smile.

Ramon and Kamil shot irritated glances at Jack, their eyes saying, "Bro, shut up."

But it was too late; Menes had caught wind of their earlier comments. He fixed them with a menacing grin. "So, that's what you think of me, huh?" Menes mused aloud.

Thump, thud...

Menes playfully punched Ramon and Kamil, who slumped back onto the sofa, their moods deflated. Meanwhile, Jack and Kasib munched on their apples, trying to suppress their laughter as they watched their friends grapple with their embarrassment.

Ramon and Kamil both took their apples, examining them intently. Then, they turned to Jack, their expressions a mix of frustration and anger.