Ascension of the Arcane king

THE DEAD DO NOT FORGIVE...

Auris was no longer silent.

The whispers had turned to roars.

The ground trembled beneath Elias, deep cracks spreading like veins of darkness, releasing an aura so ancient, so powerful, that the air itself felt heavier.

And from those cracks—they rose.

Figures clad in ruined armor, their hollow eyes burning with a ghostly fire. Time had twisted their bodies into something almost inhuman—warped shadows of the kings they had once been.

Their rusted swords still hummed with forgotten magic.

Elias clenched his fists, his body tensed as he counted.

Ten. No, twenty… fifty…

The numbers didn't stop.

Seraphina's breath hitched. "That's… a lot."

Varian exhaled sharply. "Auris's fallen kings. The ones who tried to become gods."

Elias's heart pounded.

These weren't just spirits.

These were warriors.

And they were angry.

THE FIRST ATTACK....

The tallest of the dead kings stepped forward. His armor—unlike the others—was almost untouched by time, black metal etched with golden runes that still pulsed faintly.

His voice was a hollow echo, laced with power.

"You do not belong here."

Elias swallowed hard. "I could say the same to you."

The dead king tilted his head, his gaze piercing. "Do you know what you are, child?"

Elias hesitated.

And in that moment of hesitation—

The king lunged.

Faster than Elias could react.

A shadow-forged sword sliced through the air, aimed straight for his throat.

THE BATTLE BEGINS....

Elias barely dodged.

The sword's tip grazed his cheek, leaving behind a trail of cold fire.

The moment his feet touched the ground—another king attacked.

Then another.

Then another.

Seraphina was already moving, her daggers flashing as she blocked a strike aimed at Elias's back.

Varian summoned a shield of golden light, its glow flickering as two of the fallen kings pounded against it.

Elias gritted his teeth.

This wasn't just a fight.

This was a test.

A battle for dominance.

For control over magic itself.

If he wanted to win—he needed to break the curse itself.

A CITY OF SECRETS....

The ruins of Auris watched them.

The half-buried towers, the shattered temples—their very presence whispered of a history erased by time.

And Elias could feel it.

The weight of the past, pressing against him.

A memory he had never lived.

But somehow, he knew.

This place had once been the heart of magic itself. A city that had defied the gods, reaching for immortality—and paying the price.

And now, those who had once ruled it… wanted him dead.

THE KING'S CHALLENGE....

The leader of the fallen kings stepped back, watching Elias with calculating eyes.

"You are not like the others," he murmured.

Elias's fingers curled into a fist. "No, I'm not."

The king tilted his head. "Then prove it."

The battlefield shifted.

The other fallen kings stilled, lowering their weapons.

Seraphina frowned. "What's happening?"

Varian's expression darkened. "They're giving him a test."

Elias narrowed his eyes. "What kind of test?"

The dead king pointed his blade at him.

"The same test every Arcane King has faced."

"Survive."

And then—

He attacked.

THE FIGHT FOR CONTROL...

The dead king was relentless.

Strike after strike, forcing Elias on the defensive.

Their blades clashed—sending ripples of energy across the ruins.

Elias's arms shook from the impact.

He wasn't just fighting an opponent.

He was fighting a legend.

The king's sword pulsed with ancient power.

Power from a time before Elias's own.

And Elias's own magic flared in response.

For a brief moment—just a moment—he saw two futures.

One where he won.

And one where he fell.

He refused to let the second happen.

With a roar, he pushed back.

SERAPHINA'S DESPERATION....

Seraphina watched, heart pounding.

Elias was holding his ground—but barely.

The dead king was too fast. Too strong.

Seraphina's grip tightened around her daggers.

She had to do something.

She turned to Varian. "Can we interfere?"

Varian's jaw clenched. "No. This is his fight."

Seraphina cursed under her breath.

She had already almost lost him once.

She wasn't going to let it happen again.

THE FINAL STRIKE....

Elias knew he couldn't dodge forever.

The dead king wasn't slowing down.

Elias needed an opening—something.

Then—he saw it.

The king's next swing came in slightly off-balance.

A mistake.

Elias took it.

He shifted to the side, let the attack graze his shoulder.

And then—

He struck back.

A pulse of golden-blue fire exploded from his palm—hitting the dead king square in the chest.

The warrior staggered.

For the first time—he looked surprised.

Elias didn't hesitate.

He finished it.

THE FALL OF A KING....

The dead king fell to one knee.

His sword faded to dust.

Elias stood over him, breathing hard.

For a moment, silence.

Then, the king… laughed.

Low. Almost amused.

"So… you are different."

Elias frowned. "What do you mean?"

The king lifted his head.

"The others never hesitated. They killed without thinking."

He exhaled, his form flickering.

"You still believe you have a choice."

Elias's fingers tightened. "I do."

The king nodded.

"Then hold onto that… for as long as you can."

And with that—

He vanished.

THE CURSE IS LIFTED… FOR NOW....

The other fallen kings lowered their weapons.

One by one—they faded into the darkness.

The city fell silent once more.

Seraphina let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Holy shit."

Varian gave a slow nod. "You did it."

Elias, still catching his breath, shook his head. "No."

He looked at the ruins around them.

The shadows still lingered.

The curse wasn't broken.

It had only been delayed.

And deep down—Elias knew.

This was just the beginning.