The Death Monarch, an ancient spirit steeped in centuries of magical wisdom, watched the hulking form of the battered Ogre before him with a mixture of mild intrigue and disdain.

This creature had impressive physical might, that much was clear.

But his utter lack of finesse, his inability to wield or even understand the depths of true magic, rendered him as nothing more than brute force—a one-dimensional weapon that held no place in the Death Monarch’s plans.

He sneered, “not really that much but muscle and brawn,” he mumbled.

The flickering light of his otherworldly aura casting an eerie, twisted shadow over the battlefield.

The Ogre was strong, yes, stronger than many of his summoned knights, but in the grand scheme of magic, Volk was just muscle.

And then, unexpectedly, Volk’s broken form stirred.

There was a heavy pause, as if even the air held its breath, and then—BAM!

Volk slammed his fists into the ground, his body rising with a surge of determination that bordered on madness.

The Death Monarch’s mocking gaze lingered, but the creature’s brows quirked slightly as Volk pushed himself to his feet, roaring.

Volk’s world had dimmed, vision turning to a dark blur, but he wasn’t out.

No, he would not be dismissed, especially by this… thing. He remembered the sneer, the mocking twist of the creature’s face.

It burned in his mind, a searing insult.

“VOLK… NOT… WEAAAAK!”

His voice thundered across the field, a challenge to any who dared doubt him.

With a mighty leap, he launched himself skyward, his massive form becoming a streak against the darkened sky, trailing dust and fury behind him with a mighty SWOOOSH!

He hung there for a second, high above the battlefield, taking in the endless sea of death knights below.

Each armored figure was a statue of menace, a chilling force held together by dark energy, a dark army in the command of a being that had dared to look down on him.

Volk’s eyes fell on the Monarch himself, sensing the pulsating aura, the sheer pressure of magical energy radiating from him like a beacon.

The creature who mocked him, who dismissed him as nothing, stood with that same arrogant sneer.

Volk bared his teeth in a snarl, his chest heaving with rage.

“VOLK WILL DESTROY YOU, SYSTEM USEEEEEEERRR!”

His words were a vow, echoing from the heavens, a final warning before his descent.

He turned his gaze downward, bracing himself against the air, his massive form plummeting with accelerating force.

The wind shrieked around him as he tucked his arms, his speed building into a thunderous roar.

“NUCLEAAAAAAAAAR!”

He bellowed, his voice splitting the sky. The ground rushed up toward him, the shadow of his form stretching across the battlefield in a growing blot.

The Monarch looked up, an eyebrow arching in mild curiosity, but that sneer remained plastered on his face.

Volk’s mouth opened once more as he neared the ground, the echo of his words tearing through the battlefield.

“ECHOOOOOOOOOOO!”

His muscles tensed, and every ounce of rage, every slight, every insult powered him, gathering like a storm within his massive body.

And then, as he was almost upon his target, Volk took in a final, guttural breath, his voice tearing from him with a fury that could shake mountains. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMBB!”

He collided with the earth, his impact creating an explosion that cracked the very surface of the ground.

A burst of energy radiated outward from the point of collision, rocking the ground and causing shockwaves that rippled in all directions.

CRRRACK!

The earth split, deep fissures tearing across the ground in a spider-web pattern, rupturing rocks and scattering debris.

The Monarch remained still, his gaze calm, arms folded in supreme disinterest as he watched the initial impact of Volk’s ‘Nuclear Echo Bomb’ dissipate into the ground, cracking only a mere few meters of the battlefield.

Volk snarled, but his ferocity only seemed to amuse the Monarch.

“VOLK WILL CRUSH YOU, PUTRID SMELLING THING!!”

However, the Death monarch’s cold, arrogant stare bored into Volk with a look of mild curiosity, as though he were an insect struggling to escape the inevitable boot.

Then, a tremor.

The Death Monarch smiled arrogantly, “heh!”.

However, immediately, he was drowned with a devastating BOOM!

It made the Death Monarch looked and observe.

Suddenly, BOOM!

A second shockwave rippled outwards, stronger this time, causing the Monarch’s robe to flutter slightly, though his posture did not waver.

He raised an eyebrow, the mocking smile vanishing, replaced by a glint of… interest?

A third shockwave exploded outward, BOOOM!! then a fourth, BOOOOOMMM!! each one growing more intense than the last.

The Monarch’s eyes narrowed, his posture shifting ever so slightly as he observed with a calculating gaze.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

Each impact followed swiftly after the last, like rolling thunder, creating layer upon layer of invisible pressure that weighed down on everything around it.

The seventh shockwave hit, sending cracks ripping through the earth, deepening the fractures as the pressure continued to grow.

And with the eighth shockwave, the Monarch’s amusement faded completely.

His eyes narrowed in contemplation, “what do we have here?” He muttered, and then he subtly and surprisingly took a single, reluctant step back.

He was thinking something was wrong here.

He was right.

Almost immediately, the Death Monarch noticed something.

His death knights, once unwavering in their ranks, now began to shiver, their armor rattling as though responding to some primal force.

KLANG! KLANG! KLANG!

The Monarch’s lips thinned, his eyes sharpening as he sensed the deathly energies in his knights reacting, vibrating with each pulse.

Ninth shockwave.

The rattling grew louder, an unnatural symphony of metal grinding against itself, filling the air with a sharp, shrill whine.

Each knight trembled, KLANG KLANG KLAAAANG! their forms shifting erratically, the deathly energy that bound them shuddering under the relentless force.

Then came the final shockwave—the tenth.

BOOOOOOM!

The ground quaked violently, and with a deafening crescendo, the shockwave detonated with such ferocity that even the Monarch, for the first time, seemed to tense, his eyes widening as he sensed the scale of what was to come.

The death knights shuddered once more, and then—KABOOM!

One by one, they began to detonate, each armored form exploding with a force that sent dark energy scattering in all directions.

The sound was immense, a cataclysmic chorus of destruction as each knight burst apart, fragments of armor flying, torn into shrapnel by the raw force tearing them apart. And with each detonation, a fresh surge of energy rocked the battlefield.

The Monarch’s gaze tightened, his interest now fully piqued as he watched his army of knights reduced to nothing, their forms erupting into clouds of dust and dark mist.

He clenched his jaw, his expression shifting from disdain to something more calculating.

As the last of the death knights exploded, Volk stood there, his chest heaving, his entire form radiating a fierce, primal energy.

He glared at the Monarch, his eyes blazing with fury, his fists clenched tight.

And the Monarch, his own aura now flickering in response to the power Volk had unleashed, offered him a thin, humorless smile. “Interesting,” he murmured, his voice echoing across the now-silent battlefield.

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