The battle erupted like a supernova. Arthur's spear carved an arc of violet lightning through the advancing Gentry, its edge cutting through the first of the Gentry like a blade through smoke. Their forms dissolved, their shadows scattering across the ash-covered ground, but they did not stay dissolved. They reformed, their bodies twisting and reshaping themselves with an ease that spoke of beings who existed beyond the laws of physics.
Arthur's eyes narrowed. He had expected resistance.
"Okay.." he said, his voice carrying across the chaos. "You don't die by normal means."
The lead Gentry, the one who had spoken stepped forward, its form rippling with cold amusement. Its voice was a chorus of whispers, layered and overlapping, as if a thousand beings were speaking through a single throat.
"We are not beings of flesh, Monarch of Shadows. We are not beings of matter. We are ideas. Concepts. You cannot destroy an idea with a blade."
Arthur smiled. "I've heard that before. And I've always found a way."
He launched himself forward, his spear leading the charge. The Gentry met him with a wave of twisted reality, their power bending the fabric of space itself.
Arthur moved through the chaos like a dancer, his body flowing with grace.
But he was being pushed back.
The Gentry's power was not just overwhelming, it was very alien. Each attack warped the space around him, twisting his perceptions, disorienting his senses. He felt the ground shift beneath him, the sky above him turn inside out, the very stars in the distance blink out of existence.
Arthur's eyes blazed violet. He understood now. This was not just a battle of strength, it was a battle of existence. The Gentry were not simply trying to kill him. They were trying to contain him.
The lead Gentry's voice echoed across the battlefield. "You cannot fight us with strength, Monarch of Shadows. We are the end of all things that should not be. We are the correction, and you are an error."
Arthur's laugh was sharp, defiant. "I've been called worse, but can you shut up please?"
Then he saw it.
The Gentry raised their hands, their forms shimmering with dark light. The ground beneath them cracked, and from the fissures emerged the forms of the dead, the deceased of this world, twisted and disfigured, their bodies warped into terryifying shapes. Their eyes glowed with the same cold hunger as their masters, and their movements were jerky, unnatural, as if they were being pulled by strings.
Arthur's eyes widened. His mind raced.
"Necromancers as well?" He paused, studying the twisted forms. "No, this doesn't seem like necromancy, but..."
He smiled.
"I can use it too."
He raised his hand.
"Arise."
The shadows around him erupted.
His Shadow Legion emerged from the darkness like a tide of vengeance, their forms gleaming with violet light, their eyes burning. They met the Gentry's twisted army in a clash of shadow and bone, their weapons carving through the deformed forms with brutal efficiency.
But the Gentry's numbers were overwhelming. For every shadow, two to three more twisted forms rose to take its place. The battlefield became a churning mass of violence in a dead planet.
Arthur watched, his expression grim. His shadows were holding their own, but they were being overwhelmed. The Gentry had extreme numbers, and they seemed to have an endless supply of corpses to draw from... the corpses were not of this planet alone.
Arthur's spear crackled with renewed energy.
"Alright," he said, his voice carrying across the battlefield. "If you want to play that way, I'll play."
He launched himself forward, the Gentry turned to meet him, their forms shifting and twisting, their power warping reality around them.
The battlefield had become a nightmare of twisted reality and endless shadows. Arthur's attacks carved through the Gentry, but they simply reformed, he struck them with lightning, with fire, with the raw power of death itself, and still they came. Each blow that should have annihilated them was absorbed, redirected, or simply ignored, as if his attacks were nothing more than ripples on the surface of an infinite ocean.
His arm was beginning to ache. His breathing was growing ragged. His mind, usually so sharp, so focused, was beginning to feel the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. The Gentry were not simply strong, they were wrong. Their existence was a violation of the natural order, a cancer on the fabric of reality itself.
Arthur's spear lanced through another Gentry, its form dissolving into shadow. He spun, his blade catching another, its body splitting in two. But even as he watched, the two halves began to reform, knitting themselves back together with an ease that spoke of beings who had never known death.
"Damn it, there is only five of them but.." he muttered, his voice carrying a note of genuine frustration. "What does it take to kill these things?"
The Gentry did not answer. One of them was faster than the others, a twisted mind housed in a twisted body, its form more solid, its presence more oppressive. It wrapped itself around Arthur, its body clinging to him, its multiple eyes opening across its surface. Arthur felt its touch, cold, invasive, hungry. It was trying to burrow into him, to consume him from the inside out.
Arthur's violet eyes widened. He struggled against it, his hands clawing at its form, his spear crackling with lightning as he tried to dislodge it.
"What is this..." His voice was strained, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Damn it..."
He could feel it, the corrosion, the slow decay of his body, the way his power was being drained. His vision flickered, his strength fading, his mind growing hazy. The creature's grip tightened, its eyes opening wider, its hunger growing more intense.
"Shit..." His voice carried a note of dawning horror. "I think they can corrode living beings this way... No wonder everything is dead here.."
He struggled harder, his body aching, his power sputtering. The Gentry's hold was relentless, its form pressing against his skin like a shroud of ice. He could feel his shadow armor cracking, his body weakening, his consciousness slipping.
"Fire!" Arthur yelled at one of his shadow dragons who was locked in combat with the twisted deceased. "Now!"
The dragon hesitated, a brief moment of uncertainty that seemed to stretch into eternity. Its eyes met Arthur's, and for a moment, something passed between them, an understanding.
Then it opened its maw and unleashed a torrent of shadowflame directly at Arthur.
The flames consumed him.
They consumed the Gentry.
The creature's hold loosened, its form dissolving into ash, its multiple eyes closing as it was torn apart by the purifying fire. Arthur emerged from the flames, his body smoking, his armor cracked, but his eyes burning with renewed fury. He rose into the air, his spear crackling with lightning.
"Damn it..." His said in a tone of genuine frustration. "These creatures are seriously strong.."
The Gentry did not relent. They surged forward again, their forms multiplying, their hunger undiminished. Arthur's shadow legion clashed with the twisted deceased, their battle a blur of shadow and bone. The sounds of combat was all that can be heard, the clash of weapons, the roar of dragons, the screams of the deceased dying again.
Arthur watched, his jaw tight, his mind working through the problem. He was being pushed back, his forces while they were holding their own against an unbelievable number, his strength was fading, this was not how he should fight them.
"I'm glad I came here alone," he said to himself, his voice barely audible above the chaos. "These things are..."
He paused.
A voice cut through the chaos. "Arthur! There you are I knew you were in some sort of trouble!"
Arthur turned.
Raven floated in the air behind him, her form blazing with white light, her eyes wide with determination. She had found him, she had followed him.
Arthur's eyes widened. "Raven... that's no illusion... what the... how did you get in.."
He didn't finish.
The Gentry surged forward, their attention shifting from Arthur to the newcomer. They sensed her power, her presence, they saw a threat and they moved to eliminate it.
Arthur's eyes widened. "Raven!"
His body moved before his mind could catch up. He threw himself in front of her, his Ruler's Authority flaring, pushing her away with a force that sent her hurtling across the battlefield.
The Gentry closed around him.
They swarmed him, their forms wrapping around him, their power pressing down on him and Arthur struggled, his arms pinned, his legs trapped, his power sputtering. He could feel them trying to corrode him.
"Fuck..." His voice was a whisper, barely audible.
His eyes found Raven's form in the distance. She had been pushed to safety, miles away, beyond the reach of the Gentry for now. And she was alive.
"That's all that matters..." His voice grew weaker. "As long as she is safe..."
He tried to summon his power, tried to break free. But the Gentry's hold was too strong, their power too overwhelming. He could feel himself fading, his consciousness slipping, his vision blurring.
Then he realized.
"The source of your power..." His voice was a whisper, barely audible. "All of you... the source of your power is... the Great Darkness..."
His vision flickered. His shadow legion was disappearing, their forms dissolving into nothing. They can't be sustained without him, he was lost.
Then a red blur punched through the Gentry.
It was fast, so fast that Arthur could barely follow it. It tore through the five of them, its form a streak of crimson. It grabbed Arthur, its grip firm and steady, and pulled him from the Gentry's grasp.
Arthur coughed, blood spilling from his lips. His vision was blurred, his mind hazy. He couldn't see who was carrying him, couldn't make out their features.
"Leave me..." Their voice was barely a whisper. "Go and save..."
"Shut up."
The voice was sharp, impatient, but not unkind.
"I just took her to safety, a place where the Gentry can't find us, for a while at least."
Arthur's relief washed over him. His eyes began to close.
"Good..." His voice faded. "...That's... good..."
Then he lost consciousness.
The figure carried him through the air, his form a blur of crimson and motion. His voice was quiet, almost to themself.
"I'm honestly impressed that they didn't manage to corrode you. Even though that was all of five of them together." He paused, looking at Arthur. "What are you?" but Arthur did not answer, for he was beyond hearing.
/-\
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