Shadow Monarch in DC-Chapter 186: The Knights
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The doors groaned open with a heavy, metallic rumble, revealing a throne room swallowed in darkness and violet light.
Arthur stepped inside slowly, his boots pressing into a long, worn carpet that stretched like a faded river of black velvet. Pillars towered on either side, cracked and clawed by time. The ceiling rose high above in gothic arches lost to shadows, and silver torchlight flickered in patterns too ancient to recognize. Banners, tattered, abyssal things hung like ghosts from iron hooks, bearing a symbol he almost recognized... but distorted.
His eyes drifted toward the center.
There it was.
The throne.
Tall. Cold. Black stone wrapped in runes that shimmered faintly with deep violet hue. It rose on cracked steps, untouched by dust. Not a single soul sat upon it.
Arthur stopped before it, narrowing his eyes.
"...Feels familiar," he muttered to himself. "Like something I’ve seen in a vision. Or maybe..."
He didn’t finish. His thoughts trailed off as the temperature in the room dropped, the air thickening with pressure. The shadows behind him rippled unnaturally. And then, like specters summoned from the bones of the castle itself, they stepped forward.
Three knights.
Clad in armor so dark it drank the light around them, their eyes glowing a deep, unnatural violet. They weren’t like the other hollow suits of armor he’d faced. These ones breathed. Watched and felt more alive than anything else.
Arthur slowly turned, shoulders tensing.
"...Weird," he muttered, summoning the Kamish twinblade into his hand with a glint of violet light. "They almost look like my shadows."
He studied them, analyzing.
The one on the left held a longsword, slim, elegant, and cruelly serrated. The knight in the center wielded a massive greatsword, resting it on his shoulder like it weighed nothing. The third... had no blade at all, only a pair of spiked gauntlets glowing with cursed sigils.
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"I thought this was a test of pure swordsmanship," he said aloud, blade twirling once in his hand. "So what’s with the brawler?"
None of them answered.
They charged.
The knight with the gauntlets surged forward like a cannonball, closing the distance in an instant. Arthur met him head-on, blade slashing across the gauntlet only to be shocked by the sheer force behind the parry. The knight punched, and the air shattered around the blow like breaking glass.
Arthur blinked, Speed Step activating as he ducked the strike, blade spinning upward in a graceful counter but the longsword knight was already upon him, slashing from the side.
He parried, sparks flying as metal shrieked against metal, the twinblade catching the slender edge perfectly. He twisted, flipped over the strike, landing a boot into the knight’s plated chest to shove him back.
Only to feel a crash of momentum as the greatsword knight slammed down from above, nearly splitting the ground beneath his feet.
Arthur rolled aside, landing in a low stance, twinblade raised, eyes narrowed and glowing.
They didn’t speak.
But their coordination was flawless silent shadows trained for this one purpose: test the intruder.
Arthur’s smile returned, sharp and eager.
"So that’s how it is..."
He spun the Kamish twinblade in a rapid flourish, dark mist wrapping around his arms.
And with that, he leapt back into the fray, the throne behind him watching silently, like it was waiting for someone to earn their right to sit upon it.
The first blade sang through the air.
Arthur pivoted, narrowly evading the longsword knight’s elegant thrust. The violet glow of his eyes flared, Speed Step activated once more, and the world bent for a heartbeat. He vanished and reappeared behind the knight mid-strike, Kamish twinblade hissing through the air like a whip. The knight barely turned before Arthur’s blade bit through metal and plating, slashing deep into the exposed shoulder joint.
The knight staggered, but no cry, no blood. Just a flash of that eerie violet light leaking from the wound.
"Still no blood... even though they feel alive.." Arthur muttered.
Arthur twirled his blade, shifting his weight, and said under his breath with a smirk:
"Let’s start the lesson."
A boom shattered the tension, the greatsword knight came down like a meteor, slamming the massive blade with earth-shaking force. Arthur leapt sideways, using Ruler’s Authority mid-air to grip the massive greatsword his hand glowing with force as he redirected the attack. The blade slammed into the ground beside him, shattering the floor.
Arthur landed behind the greatsword knight, still holding his massive weapon via Ruler’s Authority.
A grin spread across his face.
"Let’s see how you like this."
With a flick of his hand and a surge of will, Arthur ripped the weapon out of the knight’s grasp, twirled the massive sword like it weighed nothing, and with inhuman precision threw it like a spear.
CRACK!
The flying greatsword pierced the longsword knight’s chest, pinning him to a stone pillar with bone-crunching force. A final flicker of violet light escaped his helm before his form collapsed into ash and dust.
Arthur didn’t even watch him fall. He turned and met the charge of the gauntlet knight.
The brawler roared without voice, crashing toward him with earth-splitting steps. Arthur raised his Kamish twinblade, catching the knight’s punch with the flat of the blade, sparks flying. But the second fist came low.
Speed Step.
He vanished again, reappearing upside-down behind the knight, hand glowing as he used Ruler’s Authority to slam the knight downward face-first into the stone.
He landed gracefully.
But the gauntlet knight rose. Shaking. Glaring and furious.
Arthur’s expression changed.
His eyes... darkened. Shadow energy licked from his shoulders like smoke.
A pulse of pure, bloodlust poured from him.
The knight froze.
It stepped back. Just once.
And Arthur saw it.
Trembling.
He walked now. Slowly. Kamish twinblade lowered.
"You’re not even real. A construct. A hollow. And you’re afraid of me?"
Arthur raised his hand.
Ruler’s Authority activated its pull was surgical. Precise.
The knight couldn’t move.
He flexed his fingers and whispered coldly.
"Kneel."
The knight slammed to the ground as if gravity had tripled. Its gauntlets scraped the stone, arms outstretched in resistance.
Arthur didn’t blink.
He clenched.
And the knight’s head was ripped clean off torn upward with a violent, telekinetic wrench.
The head flew straight at Arthur spinning.
Arthur tilted his head once.
Kamish twinblade snapped upward in a smooth, practiced arc he didn’t even look.
The knight’s helmeted head split into two in mid-air one half spinning left, the other right missing him completely.
He stood there, still as stone, blade resting at his side.
Around him, the hall was silent, a massacre of shattered armor and ash. Behind him, the throne still waited.
Arthur exhaled slowly.
"Class dismissed."
His voice lingered like a verdict in a courtroom of the dead.
But his steps didn’t move. His glowing eyes narrowed, turning toward a tall pillar at the far end of the throne room the only structure still untouched by battle.
A pressure.
Arthur’s senses flared.
He spoke low, but the weight of it filled the hall.
"Well... except for you."
From behind the crumbled column, a presence emerged slowly walking and utterly fearless.
The figure stepped forward, the air thickening with heat and power as he did.
He was tall, taller than any of the knights before. His armor was forged in deep crimson metal, burnished like blood under firelight.
From behind his helmet, eyes burned like smoldering embers. Silent and menacing as if he was calculating how to hunt his prey.
The red longsword in his hand was held low, but not relaxed. It was waiting for the right moment to strike.
Arthur took a single step forward, his expression sharpening into something between admiration and excitement.
His Kamish Twinblade shimmered out in a hiss of dark light and in its place, with a crackle of blue lightning and shadow energy, the Demon King Longsword materialized in his hand. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺
The metal gleamed with lightining.
Arthur tilted his head, smirking faintly.
"I hope you enjoyed the show."
The red knight didn’t answer. That stance, the way he adjusted his grip on the blade it was the stance of someone who had watched every moment, memorized it, and judged it already.
Arthur’s smirk turned feral.
"Blood-Red Commander... Igris."
He said the name like an invocation.
And as the syllables fell, a low hum began to resonate in the air. The throne room itself reacted torches flared back to life, shadows grew long and violent, banners trembled on the stone walls as if recognizing the red knight.
Igris lifted his sword two hands on the hilt now, pointed toward Arthur. A gesture of challenge, not of violence. Not yet atleast.
Arthur nodded slowly. His eyes glowed brighter, and his longsword responded in kind.
"You have no idea how much I’ve waited for this, Igris."
/-\
If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Solo leveling in Westeros.
&
If you wish to read more or simply support me than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/FrenzyAren"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want
