Reincarnated as the Weakest Magical Beast-Chapter 109: The Lion Sword King

"Putting... them away? Why?"

Emilia’s mind was now filled with terrifying possibilities.

Could it be that Amaras wanted to kidnap them all alive? To make them his slaves? Or to perform some kind of undead experiments on them?

Either way, the situation seemed bad. There was nothing she could do anyway. Amaras was too strong. At his power level, breaking Emilia would be as easy as snapping his giant fingers.

But it wasn’t as if all hope was lost yet.

For some reason, he had just healed her. A big mistake. As she checked her status again, she could see that all of her cooldowns had been reset, and her HP, mana, and stamina were completely filled back up. She could very well try unleashing all her power again and attempt to escape.

With Dragon Sense, maybe she would be able to see his movements, no matter how fast they were.

Her chances were still slim, but it was all she could do.

But then...

"Please relax," Amaras said as he put his sword away. As he did, his figure shrank down a little, so that he no longer looked like a giant boss, but rather like a regular person—albeit an undead one.

"As I said, I do not wish to harm you or your friend. In fact, I’m here to offer you something, Silvervein child."

"Huh?"

At Amaras’s words, Emilia felt her mind ease, if only a little.

"Offer... me something?" she echoed softly.

"First," he said, "may I ask your true name?"

Emilia hesitated.

Then... at last, she spoke honestly.

"I am Emilia. Emilia Silvervein. But... how did you know I belonged to the Silvervein?"

"Ahh..." Amaras let out a low chuckle. "Long ago, back when I still drew breath, I once knew someone of your clan. That snow-pale hair... that graceful, deadly swordsmanship you used to cut down my Deathguards..."

His voice carried certainty.

"There is no mistaking it. That was the Silvermoon Sword Art."

"I... I see," Emilia murmured.

So it was as she thought—he had seen through her the moment he witnessed her battle in the second stage.

"And as a Silvervein," Amaras continued, "you must know of Lady Luna, do you not?"

"Huh? Luna... Silvervein?" Emilia’s eyes widened.

"Oh! The fourth Clan Head... my ancestor! The one who created the Silvermoon Sword Art!"

"She was a dear friend of mine," Amaras said, laughter rumbling beneath his helm. His eyes gleamed from within the Death King’s helmet. "Many times did she best me in sparring. That is why I recognized your blade so easily."

"Ooooh..." Emilia breathed, stunned.

"Haha... so that is why," she chuckled weakly.

"And to have reached such mastery at so young an age..." Amaras mused. "Your clan must surely take pride in a prodigy such as you."

"Hehe... I still have far to go," Emilia admitted, her cheeks warming. "I have not yet learned the Silvermoon Sword Art in its entirety."

She could hardly believe it—an undead king, offering her praise so freely.

"Although..."

Amaras’s gaze shifted.

His hollow eyes lowered toward Mimi, who had been listening in silence.

"A Noctifelis..." he said, his tone suddenly quieter. "How intriguing."

"Yes!" Emilia answered quickly. "She is my first and only summoned magical beast. Her name is Mimi!"

"Meow!!!"

Mimi puffed out her chest, tail flicking high with pride.

"Undead King! Do not dare look down on me!!!"

Amaras crouched down and extended a hand.

Mimi flinched at first—until she felt the touch of his steel-gloved fingers gently patting her head.

"You even tried to protect your master until the very end," he said, his voice unexpectedly calm. "That is true courage. Be proud, little Noctifelis."

"Meow!!!"

Hehehe.

Now even Amaras was praising her! Mimi’s heart practically soared.

Alright then, Undead King. I forgive you for the crime of grabbing me by the scruff and beating my master half to death! I’ll even allow you to pet me a little longer!

And strangely enough... Amaras was actually good at it.

His hand moved with surprising care, and before long, Mimi’s body relaxed. A soft purr rumbled from her throat.

After a moment, Amaras rose to his full height and said, "Anyways, as I told you... I am here to offer you something, Emilia Silvervein."

"Yes?" Emilia replied, unable to hide her curiosity. "King Amaras?"

"First," he said, "we will move elsewhere."

As the words left his mouth, he summoned his sword once more. With a single decisive motion, he drove the blade into the ground.

A massive magic circle flared to life beneath their feet.

Fwoosh!

A teleportation spell.

One moment, they stood upon a desolate battlefield of death and horror, where the stench of rotting flesh choked the air.

The very next...

They were somewhere far grander.

A vast chamber rose around them, with walls gilded in gold, towering stained-glass windows shimmering with countless colors, and rows upon rows of statues and ornate decorations lining the hall.

At the far end sat a throne.

A throne room.

A place so lavish it almost felt unreal.

"Woaaahhhh!" Emilia breathed, utterly awestruck.

She had never seen anything like this.

Even as a noble girl, raised among fine halls and gilded chandeliers, this level of grandeur still stole her breath. It was not merely wealth—it was power made visible, carved into every corner of the room.

Then Emilia glanced to her right... and her heart skipped.

Amaras had changed.

He was no longer the fearsome Undead King cloaked in death and steel.

Now, he stood as a living man—tall and striking, with golden hair that shone like sunlight as it spilled over his shoulders. He wore white-and-gold armor polished to a gleam, and a blazing crimson cape hung from his back, embroidered with the proud sigil of a lion.

For some reason, the sight of him stirred a memory of her father.

That overwhelming presence... that quiet authority that demanded respect without a single word...

It was... enchanting.

Is this what King Amaras looked like when he was still alive?

And he was not the only one.

Five Deathguards stood with them as well—and their appearances had changed, too.

The twin sword knights, now freed from their skeletal faces, were undeniably handsome, their features sharp and noble rather than monstrous.

The mage no longer carried the dreadful air of a lich. Instead, he wore a warm, gentle smile—one that made Emilia’s heart flutter for the briefest moment.

To think he used to be that horrifying creature...

The assassin looked shockingly young, barely older than Emilia herself.

But the most astonishing of them all was the priest.

Emilia froze.

She was... gods above...

Perhaps the second most beautiful woman she had ever seen, with long, wavy golden curls and radiant amber eyes.

The first place, of course, would always belong to her mother.

As if sensing Emilia’s thoughts, the priest gave her a playful wink. And just like that, Emilia felt heat rush to her cheeks.

Meanwhile, Mimi had been utterly charmed as well. She stood stiff as a statue, legs trembling like jelly, yet her tail stuck straight up, rigid with shock.

Then Amaras spoke again.

His voice changed a little. It’s so much softer now, yet it still carried an undeniable weight, the kind that could command a room with a single breath.

"Emilia," he said, "you are aware of who I once was... aren’t you?"

"Yes!"

Emilia instantly dropped to one knee, bowing her head low. When she spoke, her voice was filled with the utmost reverence.

"I, Emilia Silvervein, daughter of Draco Silvervein and Ariana Silvervein of the Dravalon Kingdom, offer my greetings to His Brilliant Majesty—Amaras, the Lion Sword King of Lionera!"

She knew the legends very well.

The last king of Lionera had been a ruler of wisdom and might, a hero of ancient days whose name still lived on in songs and stories. He had fought against the demons to protect his people, standing firm until his final breath.

He may have become an undead sovereign now... but that did not erase the glory of the man he once was.

A gentle smile spread across Amaras’s face.

"Good," he said. "Very good!"

Then Amaras laughed, his voice booming through the chamber, echoing against the gilded walls.

With a motion of his hand, he allowed Emilia to rise from her kneel. But as she stood, his gaze drifted past her, toward the golden throne at the far end of the royal hall.

"Now then," he said, "as a reward for the strength and wisdom you displayed during my trial..."

He lifted his hand and gestured toward the throne.

"...it is that."

"Eh?" Emilia blinked, confusion returning at once. "W-What do you mean, Your Majesty?"

"This," Amaras said, his tone steady, "is a great day for me... and for Lionera. For after centuries of waiting, a worthy new king has finally arrived!"

"What? A new... king?"

Emilia’s breath caught.

Upon the throne sat a golden crown, radiant and flawless, sparkling as though it carried the very light of the sun.