A week later

Alatar stands in the center of one of the vast chambers. He's dressed in a white tunic with brown pants. His hair was drenched with sweat. He clenches the wooden sword in his right hand. Other Legion members lay on the ground around him. "Not bad at all, kid," Damadar says, slinging a wooden greatsword around effortlessly. "You managed to remove some of my best fighters with minimal effort. The training is going along smoothly. He gets into a stance. Alatar braces himself as he thinks. "Stance of the North Wind again?" Damadar moves and seems to float toward Alatar with an insane amount of speed. Planting his feet further into the ground, he clashes with Damadar; his feet drag back as he grits his teeth. The two wooden swords creak under pressure.

Alatar headbutts Damadar, stunning him just enough to jump over his back, using his feet to propel himself further away. "The North Wind Stance is a technique used to give the user an insane amount of speed, but that speed is also a downside. Causing rapid deceleration makes him vulnerable." Alatar thinks to himself as he lands on the ground.

Damadar turns around, wiping the blood from his head. "So you've figured out the downside, huh?" He cracks his neck." It's time to make it a bit harder. Illusion: Mirror Mirage," He says as his body becomes blurry. A version of him steps out to the right, while another takes a step to the left. They say in unison, "Stance of The North Wind." like a gust of wind, they charge at Alatar from three different angles.

Thinking quickly, Alatar sees the spell; his eyes darken as he casts the same spell. "Mirror Mirage." Three versions of himself appear as he shifts his movement at the last moment and braces for impact again. As he goes to block Damadar's strike, he notices that Damadar disappears as he makes contact. Both of his Mirages disappear after being attacked as well. Using his deceleration against him, Alatar goes on the attack. Using a mixture of thrusting feints downward and twisting slashes.

Damadar gets pushed back, blocking most, but not all, attacks as he gets swiped across the stomach and neck. "This kid isn't pulling any punches. No wonder my legionaries got put down. He isn't holding back with his strikes." He says, already feeling the bruising on his body. Finding an opening as Alatar pulls back to deliver a strike onto his head, Damadar swings with all his might to clash with Alatar's blade. Noticing this, Alatar uses his other hand to put force behind the strike.

Clashing, the entire room feels a tremendous booming force as the two fighters clash, blade against blade, might against might. The two blades creak and explode into splinters, leaving Alatar open and swinging downward. Damadar quickly reacts as he knees his chin, sending Alatar upwards into a backflip. Feeling disoriented, Alatar tries to fight his wrecked equilibrium. "Gotcha, kid," Damadar says as Alatar knows he's smiling.

As he is flipping, Alatar sees Damadar rearing his foot back as he punts Alatar across the chamber. It shakes as he hits the cavern ceiling; he bounces to the ground, landing with a hard crash. The other injured fighters get up and scramble towards the wall as everyone waits in hushed silence. Damadar stands on one leg as he rubs his knee. "Damn, this kid's head has to be made out of titanium or something. Someone get Doctor Frost-."

"Nah..." Alatar says, getting up. Blood drips from his head. "We aren't done yet." Damadar smiles wickedly. "This kid is going to wonders in the Gauntlet." He puts his hands up. "Then let's get ready for round two."

Meanwhile,

Mira is sitting in the command room looking over some paperwork with the Iron Queen. "So I've heard of the Gauntlet. The winner is allowed to move to any kingdom they wish to or to really move up in status in their own Kingdom; it's really for low-standing royals to help their families get a higher position of power. I find it rather barbaric." The Iron Queen smiles as she peers over her shoulder. "Indeed, it is a very violent practice, but it has some pros. For example, it allows those kids who attended the Gauntlet to have relationships with other kids from different kingdoms. Weirdly, it's kinda diplomatic, in a weird barbaric way..." She says with an embarrassed chuckle. "But we aren't to talk about the political morality of the Gauntlet. We are here to win it."

"Right, so what exactly do you do in the Gauntlet? Is it just royal children beating each other senseless?" Mira asks, reading the paper, seeing that at the beginning will showcase the different kingdoms and the talents that are known for. "So when you and Alatar get there, you'll attend the party and mingle with the other royals. I suggest putting a muzzle on the boy; I heard he bites." Mira lets out a laugh, just purely thinking about Alatar biting people.

She continues looking at the multiple papers, "These are all from different years and seem to fluctuate a lot. Some have two parts for the Gauntlet, and others have three." The Queen peers over Mira's shoulder. "Ah, I see what you mean. It relates to the Board of Gauntlet's Quality and Assurance. They are the ones who talk about the changes to the Gauntlet, really top-secret stuff; I was only to get the most basic information for next year's Gauntlet. We only have two parts, and they are the showcase and part two, which is titled Warpath and Mastery."

Mira sighs, "This is a lot, but at least it looks like a potentially short Gauntlet. In the Diamond Kingdom. Our Gauntlet consisted of clearing out dungeons and taming baby dragons." The Iron Queen looks at her with a side-eye. "We are the barbaric ones?" As Mira looked up at her, she said, "At least we aren't making children fight each other." They stare at each other until they both start laughing. "Let's continue, shall we? After this, I'll teach you something else." Mira nods in agreement.

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Five Months Later,

Alatar has a bit more muscle on him from his training. He sits in a dark room all by himself. He thinks back to the conversation he had with Doctor Frost and Damadar. "You are strong in battle prowess, but your Mana storage is superficial. The Mana Prism measured your aptitude, and we must figure out how to make you a more convincing Royal Shadow." Frost says as she looks at Alatar. "So, Demon Eater, we've been wondering. Those Demon crystals you eat, where is all of that magical energy going. Your mana pool should be skyrocketing right now." Damadar says as he peels an apple. He looks at Alatar. "How badly do you want to kill every single Demon?"

Alatar sighs as he shifts his thoughts. Dwelling deeper into his subconscious, He opens his eyes to crackling embers. He looks up at the moon burning with blood-red light. The smell of death and fire fills his nose. "You haven't been here in a while." Alatar turns to see what many would believe to be his twin.

Rage fills his eyes. He sees someone who looks like him but embodies everything he hates, sitting on a throne of those he lost that very night. "Vorgrimm," Alatar says, clenching his fist. "Alatar," Vorgrimm yawns as he leans forward. See, I can play the little game, too. What do you want, you suicidal rat?"

"I..." Alatar looks away as he hears his people groaning in despair. "I want to make a pact." Everything goes silent until Vorgrimm takes a deep breath and, with a purr, asks, "What did you just ask?" Alatar turns to him once again. "You heard me."

Laughing manically, Vorgrimm walks down the stairs of corpses, "This is a fantastic turn of events!" He lands in front of Alatar as he slicks back his hair. "I realized, Vorgrimm, and as much as I hate to admit it. I need to work with you. I cannot kill all these Demons without getting stronger."

Vorgrimm walks around Alatar with his hands behind his back. A sinister smirk goes across his face. "That is precisely what I've been saying..what's your proposal?" Alatar looks down. "I know this isn't right, but I have to change. I need your power, Vorgrimm. I need your Mana pool. Make me into a one-person army." He looks up, holding out his hand. "Here's what I'll give you in return-."

Vorgrimm interrupts him by holding out his hand. "You don't get to tell me what I get, Alatar. That's separate from how pacts work." He looks around him, and the scenery changes with the wave of his hand. They appear in a vast chamber shrouded in perpetual twilight. Walls made of obsidian stretch into a high rise etched with intricate runes that pulsate with dark orange energy. At the room's far end sits an imposing obsidian throne adorned with twisted spires.

"Much better. This arrangement will require some changes between us. Vorgrimm says with a sly smirk. "Now, on to business; this is my proposition for the pact. Every time you use my power, the more Demonic you will become. This means our souls will fuse increasingly into a single entity instead of two halves crammed together." He holds out his hand to Alatar.

"So what will it be, Son of Sailton? Will the Demon Eater himself become a Demon?" he says with a smirk. Alatar grabs his hand, squeezing it with all his might. Yes, whatever it takes." Orange flames wrap around both of their hands as they spread to Alatar. The pact has been made."

Feeling an intense heat. Alatar feels an incomprehensible amount of power flowing through his body. Vorgrimm's power is enough, but combined with the 6,116 Demon Souls, he has devoured from now on. He's become something entirely out of the bounds of nature. He clenches his chest, trying to control his might. Vorgrimm, let's go of Alatar's hand. "Good luck controlling that huge boost." He says, chuckling as the ground breaks under Alatar. He falls into an Abyss as orange flames light his way. He closes his eyes as he wakes up on the floor in the dark, quiet room.

He stands up as his body shakes. "Whatever it takes. They'll all pay. They'll all die." He leaves the room with anger on his face. He walks into Doctor Frost's office, grabbing the Mana Prism. It glows like once before, but instead of dimming, the light glows brighter and brighter until it encompasses the whole room. Then it shatters.

Foster runs into the room, looking at Alatar. "What the Hells was that?!" Alatar turns towards her. "I got the Mana Pool situated. I'm good to go now. What's next?" Her face crunches up in confusion at Alatar's statement. "What? What do you mean?"

Meanwhile,

Mira is outside in a villa in the Elite Enclave District. The polluted air is nonexistent here, thanks to the Abjuration Magic paid for by the King. "I know it's kinda late for me to ask, but I've been wondering why you are helping the Legion?" she says as she writes sigils slowly onto a blank scroll. The Iron Queen looks at her as she sips champagne. It sparkles like diamonds in the bright sun as she sits back in a fine oak chair.

"Because my husband has kneeled to Demons, I will not willingly stay with him and help him bring our Kingdom down for the sake of power. I want to improve this Kingdom, not just for the Elites but for all that lives in the industrial district and Hells, even the Slums. Do you understand how embarrassing it is to have a district dedicated to where the less unfortunate call home?" The words hit Mira heavily. She also thinks of her family and what they did for power—sent her off like a cow to the slaughter.

"I wholly understand your frustration. My family sold me off, and I want them to see how wrong they are for doing that. I...I want to." The Iron Queen sits up a bit as she looks more at Mira. "You want to kill them, right? Make them pay for what they did to you?" Mira stays quiet. "Come now, don't be afraid to answer. We are all women here." The Iron Queen says with a soothing whisper. She crosses her arms, interested in Mira's answer.

"Queen, I just feel so very frustrated, betrayed, hopeless, and-" Mira says as the Queen raises her face in annoyance. "Please, call me Jaida; my annoyance is not targeted at you. It targets those who think they can underestimate us and see us as something they can trample over. " She drinks all of her champagne.

She snaps her fingers as an Elvin woman walks up. "Your Majesty?" She says with a bow. The Iron Queen holds out the glass as she looks at Mira. "Mira, you must be prepared to get your hands bloody but use Alatar to the best of your ability. Have him be your Sword and strike down any of those that stand in your way. After the Gauntlet, return home and pursue what's truly yours." The Elvin maid takes the glass cup, bows again, and retreats inside.

Mira looks in awe at Jaida's confidence. She nearly forgot the scroll she was working on. "Mira!" Jaida says as Mira barely saves the scroll. "You've gotten better with creating spell scrolls. It's a shame your family didn't take advantage of your aptitude with support magic, especially with healing magic." Jaida says, putting her hand on Mira's head. Mira blushes from the maternal warmth of spending time with the Iron Queen. "You will support and take command in the Gauntlet. No matter what happens, you will be the Crown."