The death of a one who held the seed of divinity was felt throughout the world.

  Ripping through the air like the death toll of a lonesome bell.

  The protective dome dissolved a moment later.

  An hour had passed.

  One hour.

  That’s all it took for the world to change.

  The rest of the Demigods all flew over the city, large portions in various states of destruction.

  They flew to the source of the toll.

  As they came closer to the ruined Throne Room, they landed out of respect and walked closer.

  Despite the entirety of the Golden Thousand, many more hundred Royal Guards, and some servants, the room still felt empty.

  While the rest of the Demigods stared at the broken body of their cousin, Tualla looked to the side, where the King of Lissura was knelt, staring blankly at the bodies of his family.

  Her heart ached for him.

  As the Demigod Overseer of the Lissurian Lands, she had watched over and protected them from any threat that had been too much for them. She had watched over the Royal Family for generations. She could remember the day the King was born. She remembered the day he had met his future wife, the day they were married, and the day their first child was born.

  A light twitch, so small that even Tualla, in all her observant power, almost missed it.

  She flew over, ignoring the Golden Thousand that tried to block her. She knelt beside the Crown Prince, gently resting her hand on his chest.

  The King only watched her, too broken on the inside to do much else.

  “He lives, barely.” Tualla muttered, mostly to herself. She sent a burst of healing through his body.

  “What?” A small flicker of light rekindled in the King’s eyes.

  “The Crown Prince lives.”

  Immediately, without any command, forty of the Golden Thousand stepped forward, resting their hands on the prince and injecting his body with healing Magic.

  They were some of the strongest in the Kingdom, and while they were not specialist healers, each member of the Golden Thousand was an experienced and skilled Healer capable of First Aid. A servant was sent to bring the Royal Healer, but Tualla knew that even with the Healer, it would take many weeks before the Prince could get out of bed, let alone move on his own.

  The King held tightly to his son’s hand, desperate to hold on, as if letting go would cause his son to fall into the depths of hell.

  Tualla stepped back, allowing the Kingdom’s People to do what they needed to do to save their Prince. She had matters of her own to attend to.

  The Demigods turned their attention to the Monster that sat upon the throne. A Creature that was unlike any they had seen before, but with an Aura they remembered. An Aura that had belonged to another Monster that had killed Demigods, bringing about the end of the Golden Era.

  They did not know where this Monster had come from, but they knew it was weakened. They knew it was injured. They knew they could kill it.

  Yet none of them acted. None of them burst forward to deliver a killing blow.

  They had all seen just how lethal the last Monster had been in its last moments. They still recalled how many of their own they had lost that day.

  None of the Demigods wished to be next.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  A tense silence fell upon the Throne Room, even quieting the frantic healing of the Prince.

  Several minutes passed, with the exhausted Monster glaring at the Demigods below him and the Demigods glaring up at him.

  Loud footsteps against marble resounded through the Throne Room as Sedall broke the stalemate, walking through the crowd as they stepped aside to allow him through. In his hand, he dragged behind him the Elder of the Demigods.

  Evros was broken and bloody, his once magnificent clothing ruined and torn. But he was very much so alive. Beaten into submission instead of beaten to death.

  Once he was in front of the crowd of Demigods, Sedall threw the man to the ground before him.

  “Look.” Sedall commanded, “Look at what your pride and ego have caused.”

  Evros looked up through eyes half swollen shut to see the ripped open chest of Sordor as well as the Monster that sat upon the Throne.

  He too recognized the Aura of the Monster, and it made him shuffle back.

  “It can’t be,” He whispered, “We killed it long ago.”

  Sedall laughed, “I had thought so too. But there it is. It’s actually kind of ironic. Every time we Demigods grow too arrogant and prideful, this Black Mana appears and reminds us that we are just as mortal as any other.

  Though to be honest, I did not think it would appear within the very boy you had tasked me with watching.”

  “Boy?”

  “Get control of yourself.” Sedall commanded the Monster.

  The creature’s body shifted, contorting, expanding, shrinking, and bending in unnatural ways before all that remained was Alaster, bloody and exhausted, but with a fire roaring in his eyes.

  “Impossible.” Evros muttered.

  The sentiment was felt throughout the room.

  Before them sat the young man they had all but forgotten. A young boy who had caught the attention of a God. Yet he had not done much of significance since then, causing them to forget why he had piqued the interest of a God.

  But what truly stunned them, making them refuse to believe what they were seeing, was that the young man that sat upon the now tainted Throne, was just an Expert.

  An Expert, that had killed a Demigod.

  Alaster stared down at the Demigods, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

  When he had activated the new Ability, he had felt all of his Minions combine into one, molding over him. It was a rush of power unlike anything he had ever seen, let alone felt, but it was not just their power their crashed into him, but their emotions.

  The emotions of tens of thousands of Undead, each one with an overwhelming sense of apathy towards life, tinged with the burning fury of the Dread Knights.

  It had completely overwhelmed his own sense of self.

  Alaster could see what he was doing, even slightly influence it, but ultimately it was as if he was seeing someone else do it, just through their eyes.

  Alaster realized that this is what Sedall and Belgroth had been feeling the entire time. It was not a pleasant experience.

  “Did you know that the Dwarves of Tauras have a saying,” Sedall continued amidst their stunned expressions, “Those with Power have the responsibility to use it.”

  Sedall chuckled, “An apt saying, don’t you think? After all, Alaster here would have never driven himself past the human breaking point to accomplish what he has, if those in Power, namely us Demigods, used our power to actually govern, instead of hiding away and ‘supervising’.”

  Evros turned away from Alaster and glared at Sedall, “You! I told you long ago that we could not use our power to become tyrants!”

  “Really? Was that before or after you locked me away?” Sedall spat.

  His words brought the attention of all the Demigods crashing down on Evros. Each Demigod was their own person, each with their own likes, dislikes, goals, and dreams. But they all upheld a single principle, they may have opposing ideas and ways to go about them, but they did look after each other.

  Sedall continued, “And I never suggested being tyrants. I never cared for ruling. But tell me, my friends, how many injustices have you witnessed? How many have you been forced to watch die painful miserable deaths? How many lives destroyed? Just because one of us decided for the rest of us that we could not interfere?

  I am not saying we should take control. But how can you look at your own reflection and say you are still worth your pride when just that day you witnessed a woman be dragged into an alley, and did nothing? How can you allow the Nobility to do what they want, just because they collect the taxes?

  We have the power to stop it. So we have the responsibility to do so. A responsibility that we have been ignoring.

  And look where its gotten us.” Sedall motioned around them.

  “Since when did we allow a single one of us to dictate who lives and dies?

  One of our own is dead, all because he insisted on killing a young girl who had done nothing wrong. All because of what she is capable of. Not what she has done. Not what she intends to do. No. Just because Evros felt threatened by her. And we listened.”

  Alaster stood up, drawing all eyes upon him. With care measured steps, Alaster walked down the tall stairs, sidestepping the open corpse, until he stood above the Elder Demigod.

  “You are the one who ordered the death of my sister?” Alaster asked calmly.

  “Yes!” Evros yelled, his voice echoing off the polished marble, “If she is allowed to grow, she could destroy the world! She has to die! It doesn’t matter if she intends to do anything! Her mere existence throws the entire balance into jeopardy. She must die so that others may live!”

  Alaster’s hand ripped forward, gripping the Demigod by the throat, lifting him up off the ground. Evros’ words turned into choked sounds, gasping for air.

  “The world can burn!” Alaster screamed, “So long as she remains safe and happy, I don’t care who or how many I have to kill. I already killed one Demigod, one more won’t matter.”

  Alaster’s grip tightened.

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