บท 41: War cry of the Shadow Emperor
The scene shifts to a dark, imposing throne room. Shadows flicker across the walls, the faint light of dying torches casting eerie reflections. At the center, on a towering black throne, sits **Zadkiel**, the Shadow Emperor. His form is shrouded in a swirling cloak of darkness, only his cold, piercing eyes visible through the gloom. His presence exudes a terrifying sense of control, authority, and malevolence.
His subordinates—tall, menacing figures draped in black armor—approach the throne with a rigid bow. One of them, a Shadow General with a deep, gravelly voice, steps forward.
**Shadow General**: *bowing* "My Emperor, preparations for the invasion are complete. The forces are in place, and the siege upon the Celestial World can begin at your command."
Zadkiel remains silent for a moment, his gaze distant, as if contemplating a grander scheme beyond the immediate battle. He slowly rises from his throne, his tall frame casting a long, ominous shadow across the room. His voice, when it comes, is low and cold, sending a shiver through his subordinates.
**Zadkiel**: *voice like ice* "The time has come to crush the Celestial World. They will fall, as will all who stand in my way."
His fingers curl, darkness swirling around his hands as if he were drawing power from the very shadows that surrounded him.
**Zadkiel**: "Have the blades been located? I want them in my possession before the final blow is struck."
The Shadow General hesitates for a moment, glancing nervously at the others before responding.
**Shadow General**: "We are still searching, my lord. The swords have eluded us thus far... but we have reason to believe the Celestial World may hold a clue to their location."
Zadkiel's eyes flash with impatience, the darkness around him intensifying.
**Zadkiel**: "Find them. I do not care how many worlds we must burn to achieve this. Those blades are the key to ultimate victory."
His subordinates exchange nervous glances but nod in agreement, knowing the consequences of failure in their master's eyes.
**Zadkiel**: *with finality* "Begin the assault. Let them taste the despair of their inevitable defeat. And when their hopes are crushed, the stars themselves will bow to my will."
The Shadow General bows deeply again, backing away with the others to relay the Emperor's orders. As they leave, Zadkiel's gaze returns to the darkness before him. A cruel smile spreads across his lips as he envisions the chaos and destruction about to unfold.
**Zadkiel**: *to himself* "Let the battle begin. Soon, all worlds will kneel before the shadows."
The scene fades, leaving the looming threat of the impending invasion heavy in the air. The war that would decide the fate of countless worlds was about to begin.
Zadkiel's cold, calculating demeanor shifts subtly when the hurried footsteps of his two Shadow Knights, **Bloodslicer** and **Ravenlord**, echo through the throne room. They burst through the doors, kneeling immediately before the throne, their faces concealed behind the twisted visages of their helmets. There is an urgency to their presence that commands attention.
**Bloodslicer**: *bowing deeply* "My Emperor... we bring grave news. Your sister, Eve, will be joining the battle on the side of the Celestial forces."
At the mention of Eve's name, something in Zadkiel shifts. His eyes narrow, and the flicker of memory crosses his mind—the battle they fought long ago. **Eve**, with her unyielding determination, had pushed him to the edge, forcing him into a corner where retreat was his only option. Even though the larger victory was his, the fact that she had driven him back, that her strength had matched his in that moment, left a scar on his pride. A defeat he had never forgotten or forgiven.
His expression remains cold, betraying none of the fury swirling inside him, but the room darkens, the air thickening with his rising bloodlust. The temperature drops, and the oppressive aura of rage emanates from him like a living force. His power pulses in the room, heavy and suffocating, causing Bloodslicer and Ravenlord to shift nervously, though they dare not move or speak.
**Ravenlord**: *voice tense* "Her bloodline has been reawakened, my lord... She is no longer the same as she was before."
Zadkiel's lips curl ever so slightly, a mocking smile full of disdain and unspoken wrath.
**Zadkiel**: *voice low, dangerous* "So, my dear sister dares to return to the battlefield after all these years... thinking she can stand in my way again."
He closes his eyes, recalling that moment—her strength, the sheer power she wielded as she faced him down. It had taken everything he had to subdue her, and yet, he had not taken her life. A mistake he would not repeat. His hands curl into fists, darkness swirling around him, feeding off the anger that lay deep within his core.
**Zadkiel**: "She thinks she can challenge me again... but this time, there will be no retreat. No mercy."
The throne room shakes with the weight of his bloodlust, the very shadows seeming to retreat from the intensity of his rage. Bloodslicer and Ravenlord remain silent, knowing their Emperor is lost in thought, reliving the humiliation of that long-ago fight.
Suddenly, Zadkiel opens his eyes, the crimson glow of malevolence burning within them.
**Zadkiel**: "She will not leave that battlefield alive. This time... I will tear her apart myself."
His words hang in the air, dripping with murderous intent. It is clear that, for all his emotionless facade, this battle has become personal. Eve had dared to scar his pride, and now, she would pay the ultimate price.
**Zadkiel**: *his voice a final command* "Prepare the elite. I want no mistakes. Eve must die."
The two Shadow Knights bow deeply, backing away swiftly to carry out his orders. As they leave, the room remains thick with his bloodlust, a palpable reminder that the Shadow Emperor's wrath is not to be trifled with. This war was no longer just about conquest; it was about revenge.
**Zadkiel**: *to himself, with cold fury* "I will break you, Eve... and this time, no one will save you."
The massive courtyard in front of the dark, imposing castle swells with the presence of countless warriors—**Orcs**, **Dark Elves**, **Vampires**, **Beastmen**, and **Giants** all gathered in disciplined rows, awaiting the emergence of their Emperor. The air crackles with anticipation, the low growls and whispers of the monstrous assembly echoing through the blackened stone of the fortress walls.
The sky above the gathering is dark, the sun barely visible through the thick, oppressive clouds. Thunder rumbles ominously in the distance as if nature itself knows what is about to unfold. The Shadow Empire's greatest forces are here, united, awaiting their leader's command.
The enormous gates of the throne room creak open slowly, and the silence falls over the army like a heavy blanket. The ground trembles as **Zadkiel**, the **Shadow Emperor**, steps out from the dark interior of the castle. His presence alone is enough to still even the most unruly of the Orcs and Beastmen. His towering form, clad in jet-black armor adorned with dark sigils, exudes a powerful, suffocating aura that commands respect and fear in equal measure.
The Shadow Emperor strides forward with measured steps, his gaze cold and piercing as it sweeps across the legions before him. His eyes, glowing with the faint red light of controlled rage, carry the weight of countless victories and the promise of even more bloodshed.
Behind him, his **Shadow Knights**, Bloodslicer and Ravenlord, flank his sides, their weapons gleaming under the dim light. They walk silently, their presence reinforcing the atmosphere of impending doom.
Zadkiel comes to a halt at the very edge of the raised platform, standing above the vast sea of monstrous soldiers who await his words. His aura radiates authority, his posture straight and regal, exuding a terrifying calm. The armies wait in breathless anticipation, their collective gaze fixated on the Emperor who has led them to countless conquests.
Zadkiel gazes out over his forces, the legions stretching to the horizon, dark banners billowing in the wind. He can feel the eagerness, the thirst for battle, and the desire for blood radiating from his soldiers.
But before he speaks, there is a moment of silence—a silence that weighs heavily on all those present. Everyone knows this speech will herald the final push, the last step in a campaign that will alter the balance of the worlds.
Zadkiel strides out of his dark castle, his towering form casting a long shadow over the gathered forces. The sky above is a turbulent storm of black clouds, rumbling with ominous energy. The army before him, a sea of terrifying creatures, falls silent as the Shadow Emperor takes his place on a high platform, his cold, merciless gaze sweeping over his legions.
He lifts his head, his voice powerful and commanding as it pierces the stillness.
"I have touched the stars and seen the glorious light of a thousand suns!" he declares, his tone venomous, filled with bitterness. "Now blinded by that elegance, how could my purpose be anything... but dark?"
His voice resonates like the toll of a death knell, his words heavy with the weight of eternal doom. The orcs grunt in approval, their fanged faces twisted in anticipation. The dark elves watch with silent reverence, their icy expressions unshaken.
Zadkiel continues, his tone filled with grim determination. "I march to death... though I wish it were my own." He pauses, his voice becoming a low, dangerous growl. "I am but an unholy copy of life, a mockery of his freedom—born in the cruel betrayal of noble ideas I once would have served."
His eyes narrow, his anger growing as he spits out the next words. "No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity... but I know none. Therefore, I am no beast."
The army watches him in tense silence, hanging on every word as he proclaims, "I am oblivion. I am destruction. I... am doom."
Zadkiel's bloodlust radiates from him like an aura of pure malice, causing even his most fearsome generals to shudder.
"Our enemies will suffer," he continues, his voice rising in intensity. "They will call me monster... come, let me earn their hatred!" He grins, a cold, cruel smile that promises death. "I shall take their limbs. I will reap their beloved!"
The crowd of dark creatures shifts restlessly, their eagerness barely restrained. Zadkiel's voice thunders now, his arms outstretched as if embracing the chaos to come. "I will take away their will to live! They sing of love, hope, and gods... so I will quiet that first."
The mention of hope is met with snarls of contempt from the vampires and dark elves. Zadkiel's eyes gleam with malevolent intent as he speaks of his enemies' despair.
"I will have silence. Every dream is a candle I must snuff out!" He clenches his fists, and the air seems to darken further around him. "I am the darkness. Let me tear their flesh from them! Let me break their souls and murder their dreams... yes, this is my purpose!"
The army roars in response, their weapons raised in salute to their Emperor's vision of carnage. Zadkiel lowers his arms slightly, his expression cold and remorseless. "I beg... let them challenge me today, so I may tear out their hearts."
There is a pause, a breathless silence, before Zadkiel delivers his final, terrible decree. "I am damned, the Emperor of doom, but I will remake the worlds in my dark image!"
The ground trembles as the creatures of the Shadow Empire, stirred by his words, pound their weapons against the earth in anticipation. Zadkiel's voice cuts through the sound like a blade through flesh.
"Let us cloak ourselves in the slaughter, until all life ends! March! March towards them! We have horrors to sow, lives to reap!" His eyes blaze with an unholy fire as he delivers the final chilling command. "Let us make them regret... being free."
With that, he turns, his massive cloak billowing behind him as he strides back into his castle. The monstrous army lets out a bloodthirsty roar and surges forward, marching towards battle, eager to fulfill their Emperor's terrible vision.
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