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Specter: Sovereign
Chapter 20: A Title to be Afraid of-The Chosen One

Chapter 20: A Title to be Afraid of-The Chosen One

“You are awake, your majesty.” Theo bowed deeply to the giant resting in his throne—the light of the sun gently touching his skin as it passed through the clear windows on the sides of the room.

King grunted as his muscles and bones reaccommodated for movement once again, pressing both hands on the throne’s armrest to push himself standing—displaying his enormous stature. He stomped down the staircase that led to his throne, heavy steps that could be heard on collision with the floor.

“Theo…” King looked at the bowing knight with a mixture of pain and confusion in his expression, the shadow concealing his eyes fading to reveal his round azure eyes. “What happened?”

“You were dormant for a long time, my king.” Theo replied. “About nine hundred years after your battle with the exile…”

“I see… where are Loki and Atalanta?”

“Atalanta… she’s abandoned the order to join the goddess’ chosen, but Loki remains loyal to the order.”

“The goddess’ chosen?” King halted his stride to stand in front of Theo—displaying the difference in height between both knights. “You mean the champion is back?”

“He is, but refuses to cooperate with us.”

Looking at his quivering palm, King huffed through his mouth to recollect his scattered thoughts—pressing his fingers into a fist before lowering his hand. “If I am awake then…”

“Specter has been found, your majesty.” Explained Theo. “Our champion Loki, is engaging the god by himself at the moment. We assumed he was a man hiding in the Deadlands under the name of, Sebastian Lionheart, but our assumptions were wrong…”

“I… vaguely remember things from my slumber,” King held his forehead with one hand. “But then… who was it?”

“It was his son, my king… the god resurrected as the son of the exile himself.”

“I see…” Although shocked for a second, King closed his eyes in contemplation before glancing around the empty throne room. “How many knights do we have at our disposal?”

“Not many, and most of them are busy on earth.” replied Theo. “I believe Loki to be strong enough to defeat the god however… he was raised and trained specifically for this purpose. Our champion might’ve even surpassed the goddess’ chosen a long time ago.”

“If that is true…” breathing in deeply through his nose, as a faint number of azure particles of light joined with the air he inhaled. King clenched his fists before opening his hands gently, fixed his shoulders and neck, and exhaled the air back through his mouth. “Then we must assist him on his duty as the savior of humanity,” King said. “We must put an end to Specter’s reign once and for all.”

“Yes, my king.” Theo bowed before stepping aside, joining King in his stride towards the exit—following behind the commanding giant.

“Is Gladea’s statue unharmed?”

“Yes, we were attacked by Specter not long ago, but our champion was able to defend it without issue.”

The man’s words drew a smile in King’s lips, who’s proud eyes firmly looked forward with confidence. “As expected of the order’s chosen. Her statue holds the key to our new Paradise, Theo. We must not allow Specter, or the champion to come anywhere near it.”

“If all works out in the end… then there will be no one who opposes the perfect world our goddess revealed to you, my king.”

Northern Region of the Deadlands, Near Cerberus’ Borders: 936, August 12th, Sunday, 3:00 PM.

“Cheeky bastard…” Loki snarled, strengthening the grip of his fingers on both swords. “You think the Deadlands will slow me down!”

Despite Specter’s sudden surge of power after witnessing Yeon’s lifeless body in her office, the violent assault and superior strength of the knight forced him to retreat out of headquarters and into the Deadlands. His red shirt was slashed open on one shoulder, dirt and blood staining his face. The broken sword he held in one hand continued to glow faintly with an azure light as he deflected Loki’s own weapons—struggling to keep up with his speed.

“Grh…” growling in frustration, Specter continued deflecting the rapid swings of the knight with his sword—forced to retreat with every clashing blow.

“Heh… what happened?” taunted Loki as he pressed on the offensive. “I thought you weren’t scared of me.”

“Be silent,” reacting to the knight’s words, Specter quickly made his sword vanish into thin air, using his free hands to take a hold of Loki’s wrists—putting an abrupt halt to the knight’s assault.

“Ngh…!”

As he kept a firm grasp on Loki’s wrists, Specter pushed into the offensive with a strong blow of his forehead against the nose of his opponent—drawing blood from the knight with a powerful headbutt. His foe staggered by the impact, he continued with his assault by materializing the broken sword once again—reappearing in his left hand with particles of crimson. Specter stretched the fingers of his right hand just above the hilt, causing the blade to propel out of its red crystal-like scabbard into his palm—taking a hold of the grip.

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

“Join your comrades in hell,” he growled, slashing rapidly at the knight.

“Agh!” Loki grunted with every cut—feeling the cold steel of the blade slicing his skin open around his arms and torso.

Putting an end to his assault, Specter prompted the broken sword to vanish once again—propelling his fist forward instead, and hammering the face of his opponent with a powerful punch. The attack connected successfully, catapulting Loki a large distance away—rolling on the scorched earth with his azure tunic tearing apart in the process. Despite having gained the upper hand momentarily however, Specter’s weakened body plummeted to the ground right after his attack—falling in one knee with panting breaths.

“Damn… this…” the silver haired specter looked at his left palm, noticing the throbbing crimson glow of his veins slowly fading. “Grh…”

“Hahahahah!” laughed the knight in the distance, picking himself back on his feet—covered in dirt and blood. “I’m not killing you until you go all out on me…” he claimed. “Hide it all you want, but if you wish to get out of this one… you will have to fight me at your best.”

“Ignorant fool…” muttered Specter while lifting himself from the ground. His eye glanced around the crimson hellish zone, failing to spot his demons hiding within the fog around the area. “Tch!”

“What? You thought I wouldn’t clean up the place before this?” Loki said as he strolled towards the god. “Their deaths should’ve given you some sort of strength, no? With their power joining with yours? Go on… use it.”

Huffing air through his nose, Specter gathered the crimson fog around his right palm to materialize the broken sword back into his hand—relaxing his shoulders to face the knight. Prepared to engage in another round, Loki relaxed both arms to his sides while pressing his fingers around the grip of his swords—confidently smirking at his opponent. Both combatants charged at each other with a frontal assault, clashing blades once again.

Despite having a clear advantage in the fight, Loki struggled to find an opening in the movements of his opponent—who skillfully deflected every blow while matching his speed. Better prepared for the battle however, the knight eventually broke through the god’s defenses with a special trick that took his foe by surprise.

“…!” Specter looked back as he attempted to block the knight’s attacks—spotting a clone of Loki smirking behind him. “You…”

Not wasting the opportunity, Loki’s clone enveloped both of his arms around Specter’s neck from the back—pulling upwards to lift the man’s feet from the ground as he held him in place. With a clear opening in hand, Loki raised one knee into his abdomen before flinging his foot forward—planting a powerful kick against his adversary’s stomach.

“Guagh!” Saliva spewed out of the god’s mouth. “Gh…” he dropped his head with gritted teeth, not attempting to fight back against both opponents.

Chuckling in satisfaction, Loki bent slightly forward to look at his opponent in the eye with a snarky grin. “A new trick I learned just to get to you,” he explained. “Bet you’ve never seen something like it before.”

“Go ahead then, knight…” taunted Specter. “Perform your duty and kill me.”

“Not too fast,” Loki said while pulling back from the man’s face. “That will only mean that you get to live again… and come back in who knows how many years after your wounds are healed. That’s what you always do.” He stated while vanishing both azure sword from his hands, standing in front of the god with a confident grin. “You know… Euthemia told me that she took her time with that woman.”

“…!” Specter’s eye widened—his eyebrows scrunching down into an arrow.

“What was she to you anyway? It’s hard to imagine someone like you caring for a human, you know?” the knight pressed on as his clone kept a tight grip on Specter’s neck. “Is it this… reincarnation of yours perhaps? You think yourself a human now?”

“…”

The god’s glaring silence only brought a wider smile to Loki’s face, taking out a small device from the pocket in his trousers, a pink cellphone belonging to the blonde princess of Heildin herself—Euthemia.

“Didn’t think I’d need this but here we are… at least she left it exactly where I needed it.” Loki talked to himself. “I don’t understand this human technology as much as she does but…”

Smirking widely at the restrained opponent, Loki flipped the phone in his hand to aim the screen directly at the man’s face. Illuminated by the light of the device itself, Specter’s crimson eye settled its gaze in a dying woman lying on the floor. Yeon, with her clothes dyed in her own blood, and her face twisted in pain. She rested one hand on top of the wooden desk as she laid flat on the ground, reaching out for a photo frame among the stacks of papers and folders. It was the picture Euthemia herself took before leaving the office, a coldblooded and sadistic memory for the heartless princess to keep.

“Agh!” Loki cried as an abrupt and powerful attack flung his head backwards, decimating Euthemia’s cellphone into dust. He was catapulted far away into the ground as he rolled on his shoulders before coming to a halt, groaning in pain with a throbbing headache.

Wasting no time to himself from the clutches of his second foe, Specter pressed his fingers on the clone’s arms around his neck before pulling them open with little effort—throwing his head backwards to stagger his opponent with a strong headbutt. Turning around quickly, the god flung his spectral hand forward towards the stunned clone’s head—enveloping his face entirely.

“Vanish,” he growled while pressing his fingers into a fist—crushing the copy’s head effortlessly with his hand, and leaving nothing but a trail of azure light behind—returning back to its origins.

“Hahahah…” Loki whipped the blood rolling down a corner of his lower lip as he stood up—the azure light of the now deceased clone returning to his body. “Feeling like fig—”

Loki stopped himself as a powerful strike clobbered his abdomen before he could finish his sentence, bending forward in consequence to the impact that shook the earth around him. Pulling his fist away from the knight’s stomach, Specter continued his assault by hammering the man’s face with an upwards punch against his chin—finishing off with a downwards strike of his fist—forcing Loki back down to the earth by smashing his mouth with his knuckles.

“Ough!” the back of the knight’s head ricochet against the ground before being forcefully pressed against it by Specter—who slammed him down with one hand, keeping his head restrained against the dirt with a tight grip on his mouth.

“You talk too much…”

As his eyebrows scrunched downwards and his eyes opened widely, Loki’s confident grin had completely faded into an angry frown while struggling to break free from the god’s clutches. He kept the fingers from both hands tightly pressed against Specter’s arm and wrist, trying to pull away without success as he looked at him in the eye.

“I don’t care what you call yourself… knight.” Specter stated—pressing his fingers even tighter around Loki’s face, forcing a painful reaction from the knight. “You will learn that this title of yours is nothing to be proud of,” his functional eye glared at the downed champion, causing his spectral hand to regain its fierce and intimidating crimson glow—the veins that ran within its fissures throbbed with excitement. “But afraid…”

END OF CHAPTER