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20.68% Lust on the Lycan King / Chapter 18: The Mad King Awakens

Kapitel 18: The Mad King Awakens

The friendly smile from Lily stuck in Madison's mind as she fell asleep, a small light in the darkness surrounding her. For a few moments, she forgot the craziness - the twisted Aroch'Nar monsters, Wald's unsettling revelations, the threat from Prime Minister Douglas.

But her dreams gave no break.

She found herself standing in a vast, dead plain. The ground was scorched and cracked under her feet. The air was thick with the stinging smell of smoke and char, hurting her eyes and throat with each labored breath. All around, the twisted, blackened husks of trees clawed toward the ashen sky like the grasping hands of the damned.

A low rumbling sound, like a thousand war drums, started building in the distance. Madison spun around, her heart pounding with dread as the thunderous pounding grew louder and louder, shaking the earth beneath her.

Then, over the horizon, she saw them - a massive, seething horde of twisted monsters, a patchwork of teeth, claws, and rippling muscles. They surged forward like a living tidal wave of carnage, led by a towering figure on a nightmarish steed.

The rider was a giant, vaguely wolf-like but warped into something far more bestial and primal. Curved horns sprouted from his battered brow, framing a face locked in a snarl of pure, unbridled rage. His body was wrapped in tattered robes and scraps of burnished armor over a physique rippling with coiled power.

But it was his eyes that froze Madison with raw, primordial terror. Those twin orbs burned like miniature suns, seeming to strip away all reason or mercy. This was a being of purest, darkest fury given shape - a force of nature wearing the disguise of something once sentient long ago.

The horde swept over Madison in a torrent of gnashing fangs and rending talons. She tried to scream, to flee, but her limbs froze, paralyzed by the sheer, soul-draining malice radiating from the nightmarish warlord. As the first wave crashed over her, tearing with feral abandon, a deep, rumbling voice like a volcano growled:

"Behold your reckoning, daughter of defiance! I am Karnath-Gor, the Unbound Scourge, and my coming heralds the unraveling of all you hold dear. Kneel before my magnificence, or be torn apart!"

The words reverberated through Madison's bones as razor talons slashed deep gouges across her torso. She felt the searing agony, but it was like her pain had been cauterized by the sheer, overwhelming force of the warlord's presence. She could only watch, helpless and horrified, as the burning points of his eyes drew nearer...

Madison awoke with a start, bolting upright in the tangled sheets with a strangled cry. Her heart thundered, her skin slick with cold sweat as she struggled to get her bearings.

Beside her, Wald stirred, instantly alert. "What is it?" he demanded, his voice a low rumble layered with an undercurrent of menace that made the hairs on Madison's neck stand up.

She opened her mouth to explain the horror that had gripped her in its talons, but the words froze in her throat like shards of ice.

How could she describe such an overwhelming vision of destructive malice given form? The burning, soul-searing gaze of that titanic warlord, the endless tide of twisted monsters in his wake...

Wald studied her intently, his pale eyes glittering like twin moonlight shards. "You look like you've seen the face of the Destroyer himself," he murmured, tracing her jaw with a deadly claw tip. "What haunts your thoughts, pet? What fresh terror besets you tonight?"

Madison swallowed hard, fighting her trembling frame. Eventually, her voice was a hoarse rasp. "I... saw something. A vision, a nightmare, I'm not sure. But it felt... it felt like a dire omen of things to come."

As she haltingly recounted the nightmarish imagery that assailed her - the scorched wasteland, the onrushing tidal wave of twisted monsters, the towering warlord blazing with malign purpose - she watched Wald's expression slowly shift.

The prince's features contorted, his jaw clenching and nostrils flaring as she described the being who called itself 'Karnath-Gor, the Unbound Scourge.' By the end, his body was taut as a bowstring, muscles in his arms and shoulders rippling beneath his tan fur.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a guttural rasp of barely-leashed fury. "You have pierced the veil, it seems, and glimpsed an inescapable, dire truth." His luminous eyes bored into hers with intensity. "The Mad King stirs from his long, haunted slumber. And with his awakening comes the potential unraveling of all we have fought for."

Madison's blood ran cold at the raw menace in Wald's tone, the undercurrent of dread coloring his words. Whoever - whatever - this 'Mad King' was, his existence clearly represented a dire threat to the Lycans' conquest ambitions.

"Who... what is he?" she asked carefully, almost afraid to voice it.

Wald's lip peeled back in a mirthless snarl, exposing wicked fangs. "He is a relic from a bygone age, a force of such profound and twisted fury that even the Supreme Lycan himself dared not rouse his ire." His claws flexed, scoring deep grooves in the bedding. "An ancient, dark-spawned warlord gifted with mastery over powers no living creature should claim."

He leaned in close, so close she could see amber flecks burning in his eyes. "They called him the Unbound Scourge because he could not be bound by any force - death itself held no sway over his inexorable will."

A tremor of primal fear lanced through Madison's core, raising hairs along her nape and forearms. She found herself leaning away from Wald, her body instinctively recoiling from the sheer menace radiating from him as he spoke of this ancient horror.

The prince sensed her unease. His expression softened, the menacing tension leaving his frame as his hand found her cheek. "Peace, my defiant one," he rumbled, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the wicked talons grazing her skin. "The Scourge's return was inevitable, foreseen in the darkest prophecies. We will weather this storm as we have all others - through the crucible of the contest, where only the strongest emerge triumphant."

Despite his bravado, Madison couldn't help but sense the faint current of uncertainty rippling beneath. Whatever this ancient evil was, it clearly made even mighty Wald wary.

As he pulled her into an embrace of reassurance and possession, Madison couldn't shake the feeling her dream was more than just a nightmare. It was an omen, a harbinger of something far worse than anything she imagined when taking on this vengeance mission.

And in the distance, carried on the ominous night winds, she could have sworn she heard the rumbling of a thousand war drums, slowly drawing nearer.


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