The Monster King's Legacy-Chapter 91: Awakening

Deep beneath the ancient elven forest, Ithil stood with the golden crown in his hand. The mystical object radiated an ethereal glow, illuminating the foggy environment with a mysterious ambience, with its soft yet overpowering presence.

With the crown in hand, he took a breath, feeling as the last remnants of his clone, his essence, traveled back to him, converging into his body like a missing puzzle piece falling into place. A quiet shudder ran through Ithil as he became whole once more. His gaze then returned to the crown.

Without hesitation, Ithil held the crown forward, but he did not place the crown upon his head, instead, he took off his shirt, or at least the upper part of his wear, and then gritting his teeth, he pressed the crown against his bare chest, right over his solar plexus, and with sheer force of will, he pushed.

The crown did not resist, as its sharp pointy edges sank into his flesh, piercing skin and muscle, as he embedded it into his very being.

Pain… pure, searing pain, exploded through him. His jaw clenched, but he did not scream. Instead, he let out a slow, trembling breath as he continued, driving the ancient artifact deeper into his chest. His fingers dug into his own skin, pressing until the entirety of the crown almost disappeared beneath the surface of his flesh. His body convulsed slightly, veins bulging from the strain, but his eyes remained steady.

The moment it was fully embedded, he pulled his bloodied hands away, reaching for his palms next. With his own blood, he began marking them with sigils, mysterious but intricate. One by one, he painted the sacred markings…

—On the back of his palms.

—On the top of his feet.

—On both of his shoulders.

—And finally, on his forehead, right around his glabella.

As the last symbol was completed, a sharp, wet sound echoed through the expanse as golden light spilled from the wound.

The veins of his body became visible, glowing fiercely as though molten gold was running through his circulatory system. The light spread, threading itself through his limbs, his chest, his neck. His muscles tensed, his breath hitched, and his vision blurred as waves of unbearable heat and pain wracked his his entire body and mind.

Even then, he did not falter. For minutes, he endured the agony in silence, his body suspended three feet above the ground as the transformation took hold. His mind flickered in and out of awareness, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of power coursing through him.

Finally, he succumbed to the intense strain, his consciousness slipping away, and his body remained in the air, glowing like a dying star.

---

Elsewhere…

Far from the depths of the elven forest, beyond the front lines of war, and within the heart of the demon lands, two figures sat in what appeared like an ancient study.

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of dust and old parchment. Towering bookshelves lined the stone walls, each one filled with tomes of knowledge.

At the center of the room, a large wooden desk stood, covered in aged scrolls and crumbling manuscripts. Sitting on either side of it were two demons, a male and female, the same ones who had identified themselves as the children of the Demon Lord.

The male demon closed the book he was reading, his fingers tracing the cracked leather cover absentmindedly. A quiet sigh left his lips as he leaned back against his chair, the faintest hint of amusement mixed in frustration playing in his crimson eyes.

"He is beyond redemption." He said, his voice steady, carrying no uncertainty. "He’s too deep in with the Abyss. There is no saving him now."

Across from him, his sister, An’xiel, met his gaze with an unreadable expression. The candlelight reflected in her irises, making them look like smoldering embers. She tapped a finger against the wooden desk, a slow, rhythmic motion.

"There was never a chance of saving him," she replied, her tone soft yet cold. "You and I both knew that long ago."

A moment of silence stretched between them, neither breaking eye contact.

Then, a slight chuckle escaped from the brother.

"True," he admitted. "But I suppose I entertained the thought for longer than necessary."

An’xiel’s lips curled into something resembling a smile, though there was no warmth in it. "That is unlike you, brother."

He waved a hand dismissively. "It was merely curiosity, perhaps, a bit of hope."

Another pause followed for a short moment, then An’xiel leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the desk. "We need to move forward with our plan," she said. "If Father falls, we cannot afford to fall with him."

Her brother hummed in agreement. "Which is why I’ve been making progress on our escape."

An’xiel’s gaze sharpened. "You’ve found a way?"

"I have made significant headway," he confirmed. "Soon, we will have access to a subspace, one separate from this realm. A sanctuary where our people can retreat, far from the destruction that will inevitably come. It’s incredibly difficult and advanced magic, but lucky for us, we have the resources to learn this magic, and I not only understand it, but have some level of affinity with it."

An’xiel studied him for a moment before nodding. "As expected from my own brother, anything less would be unexpected. Then all that remains is execution."

Her brother’s lips quirked upward following a sigh. "And patience."

She let out a quiet breath. "I trust you, brother."

His expression softened, just slightly. "And I you, An’xiel."

Just as their discussion was nearing its end, the male demon suddenly paused as his head tilted slightly to the side, as if listening to something unseen. A moment later, his expression darkened.

"What is it?" An’xiel asked, immediately sensing the shift.

He exhaled slowly. "A message from one of my subordinates." He answered. "The coalition of humans, dwarves, and elves is approaching," he said. "They’re heading straight for us."

An’xiel’s eyes narrowed. "They intend to strike at the heart."

He nodded. "And they are wasting no time."

For a brief moment, the two siblings exchanged glances. No words were needed. They had anticipated this, yet the timing was crucial.

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An’xiel stood. "Then it’s time."

Her brother nodded, his fingers drumming lightly against the table. "Let us send out the demon generals."

A heavy silence settled over the study as the decision was made, and then, the flames of the candles flickered, as if responding to something unseen.

---

Back underground in the heart of the ancient forest where the ancient roots and vines coiled around the space like sleeping giants, unmoving yet filled with latent energy, Ithil hung, suspended in the air, his body bathing in golden light. His veins pulsed with power as the sigils on his flesh kept glowing faintly.

Then, without warning, his eyes opened slightly, a faint shimmer of awareness flickering within his golden irises.

Then, the golden glow dimmed, as Ithil’s body descended slowly, his feet touching the ground with a quiet finality. The searing pain that had coursed through him moments ago was now but a lingering sensation, like embers fading after a great fire.

Mysteriously, the crown was gone.

In its place, a complex marking had etched itself into his chest, an intricate design that mirrored the shape of the crown he had embedded on his chest. Its golden glow pulsed once before settling into his skin, becoming a part of him.

The sigils he had drawn on his body remained for a brief moment longer before they, too, faded into his flesh, disappearing as if they had never been there.

Ithil exhaled, rolling his shoulders. He could feel it, power unlike anything he had ever held before. The energy coursed through him in ways both foreign and familiar. It was intoxicating, yet, seemed perfectly controlled.

With a final glance at the ancient altar, he turned and and walked away, looking to ascend back up.

---

Melina who was standing at the edge of the elven capital, overlooking the vast, dense forest beyond, suddenly sensed a presence, brief but unmistakable.

Her sharp emerald eyes narrowed as she processed it.

She could tell for certain that it was her master, Ithil., yet something about his presence felt… different.

A gust of wind carried leaves into the air as she turned. In the next moment, Ithil emerged from the shadows of the forest, stepping forward with quiet authority. His movements were fluid, unburdened, like a predator walking its domain.

Seeing him, Melina immateriality bowed slightly. "You’ve returned, master."

Ithil nodded in response. "And everything?"

"In place, just as you requested" she confirmed.

There was a pause before he spoke again. "Good. But hold for the moment, I need to familiarize myself with this new power."

Melina said nothing, merely watching him. She had expected as much. The power surrounding him was unlike before—it was as if something had awakened within him, and yet it was barely being contained.

Without another word, Ithil closed his eyes, his breath steady as he walked back into the shadows, disappearing out of sight.