Legendary Broken Player - VRMMORPG

King Alorik vs Prince Stolas.

The battle had raged on for quite some time, and the surroundings had turned to ruins. The once-proud buildings of the city were reduced to rubble, and nearly half of the castle had been destroyed.

Amidst the chaos stood King Alorik, his armor visibly cracked in several places, a testament to the ferocity of the fight.

Behind him loomed a towering ethereal figure—his Avatar skill. The entity, known as the Golden Paragon, was nearly twice his height, seemingly forged from pure light. It wore radiant golden armor. A flowing white cape trailed behind it, and in its grip, it held a massive golden greatsword that pulsed with divine light.

Two Imperial Knights fought alongside King Alorik, their armor also battered and cracked from the relentless struggle. Their determination was clear, but it was obvious the battle was taking a heavy toll.

King Alorik surged forward with his greatsword, the Golden Paragon mirroring his movements like a celestial shadow. The attack came swiftly—not a single slash but a flurry of strikes that blurred into one. The Named Demon, Prince Stolas, managed to block the onslaught with a shield conjured by dark magic, protecting his body from the devastating blows.

The force of the strikes sent the demon skidding backward. But before he could stabilize, another Imperial Knight was already in position. The knight lunged forward, sweeping his spear in a deadly arc toward the demon.

Prince Stolas twisted around, raising his magic staff just in time to deflect the spear. But his movements were immediately interrupted as the second Imperial Knight rushed in from the side, sword swinging in a brutal follow-up.

Before the demon could recover, King Alorik was already upon him again. His greatsword, despite its massive size, looked impossibly light in his hands as he slashed it downward with immense force.

The attack pattern repeated in rapid succession. The three warriors moved in perfect synchronization, taking turns launching relentless strikes against Prince Stolas. Each blow sent crescent waves of energy rippling outward, obliterating anything in their path.

The battlefield echoed with the sounds of clashing weapons, magic, and destruction, as the trio continued their assault on the Named Demon, pushing him further and further to the brink.

Massive golden chains erupted from the ground, writhing wildly as they shot through the battlefield in every direction, attempting to ensnare Prince Stolas. The Imperial Knights pressed their attack, striking from multiple angles to limit the demon's movements, while King Alorik and his towering Avatar surged forward, delivering powerful, unrelenting blows.

Yet, the demon was proving to be incredibly resilient. Every time he sustained a seemingly fatal strike, his body would recover almost instantly, allowing him to retaliate and evade with alarming speed.

The golden chains, however, remained relentless. They snaked through the air, lunging again and again toward their target. Then, after what felt like an endless struggle, one of the chains finally struck its mark. Prince Stolas froze for a split second—long enough for the other chains to seize the opportunity. They snapped tight around him, coiling and binding his form with force, locking him in place.

The Imperial Knights advanced without hesitation, pressing their weapons against the demon's dark magic shield, trying to shatter it.

King Alorik, meanwhile, stood ready. Both his greatsword and the weapon wielded by his Avatar began to glow with radiant golden light. The greatsword expanded, growing to an immense size, its brilliance intensifying until it was nearly blinding.

King Alorik moved like lightning, surging toward the trapped demon.

"Don't do it! You will regret this! I dare you!" Prince Stolas screamed.

Ignoring the demon's desperate plea, King Alorik flew forward, raising the massive greatsword high. With a battle cry that seemed to shake the air itself, he brought it down with incredible force.

At the same moment, the two Imperial Knights unleashed their own attacks, their weapons striking in perfect unison.

WHOOSH! CRACKLE! BOOM! BOOM!

Wave after wave of explosive energy tore through the battlefield, radiating outward with devastating power. The force of the combined attacks created a deafening roar, as shadow and light collided in a clash of immense proportions. The impact shattered the ground beneath them, while arcs of gold and black energy crackled violently through the air.

The shadow shield surrounding Prince Stolas groaned under the pressure, fissures spreading like spider webs across its surface. Then—CRACK!—it shattered, the sound reverberating like a death knell.

The weapons struck true. For the first time, their blades sank into the demon's body.

This was the moment.

"This is your punishment!" King Alorik declared.

Their weapons struck the demon directly, cutting into him as his frozen expression seemed to lock in place. For a brief moment, it appeared as though the battle had been won.

But then, in an instant, everything changed.

A thin, sinister smile crept onto the demon's face.

"Well, the ritual requirements have been fulfilled," he said softly.

At that exact moment, something incomprehensible happened. Time itself seemed to stop—or so it appeared.

King Alorik and his Imperial Knights were completely frozen mid-movement, yet the waves of energy and attack effects continued to ripple outward, echoing violently through the battlefield.

From the demon's body, massive shadow spikes erupted with terrifying speed—razor-sharp, colossal spears of darkness that shot in all directions. The spikes pierced through the King and his two knights effortlessly, one after another, over and over again. Each spike tore through their bodies with brutal precision, forming an endless barrage that gave them no escape.

The unrelenting assault lasted only moments, but it felt like an eternity.

Finally, King Alorik and his knights broke free of their frozen state. Staggering, they stumbled backward, their movements sluggish and strained. Behind him, the Golden Paragon—his powerful Avatar—disappeared, vanishing into thin air like a fading light.

King Alorik collapsed to his knees, blood spilling from his mouth in torrents, his face pale and strained.

The Imperial Knight closest to him dropped his spear, his eyes fixed on the fallen king. "Your Majesty… I've failed my duty…" His words cracked as his body flickered and then disintegrated into glowing shards of pixels.

The second Imperial Knight couldn't even manage to speak. He staggered backward, his body trembling before pixelating mid-fall. He vanished into nothingness before he could hit the ground.

King Alorik lay sprawled on the ground, his body riddled with gaping wounds. When he pushed himself up to a kneeling position, the full extent of his injuries became clear—the once-glorious golden armor was shattered and punctured, blood streaming from the gaps and spilling from his mouth.

He raised a trembling hand, attempting to cast a healing skill on himself, but it was useless. The magic flickered faintly and then dissipated, offering no relief.

Standing before him, the Named Demon, Prince Stolas, was shockingly battered. His body was riddled with deep, gaping wounds, dark fluid seeping from numerous injuries. His left arm hung limply, barely attached at the shoulder.

Even so, the wounds on his body stirred unnaturally, slowly and steadily beginning to heal, albeit not with the rapid pace seen before.

"Now, everything is over, King of the Human Kingdom," Prince Stolas declared. "Yunatea will change forever after this—a kingdom ruled by demons. We will reclaim our rightful place in this world." Explore stories on empire

King Alorik said nothing. He knelt there, silent, his energy drained, his body broken. There was no strength left even for words.

Prince Stolas took a step forward, his magic staff glowing faintly as he pressed it against the king's bloodied forehead.

"Your kingdom is destroyed. Your people are destroyed. Your proud knights are no more," the demon sneered. "Now, there is nothing left of you."

"After this…" the demon continued. "I will go out and finish off the rest. Hah." He chuckled. "If even their proud King and Imperial Knights couldn't defeat me, then I fear this world has grown far too weak to withstand the full power of the demons."

"You demon…" King Alorik rasped, his voice hoarse and strained. "You will… never… succeed…" He coughed, more blood spilling from his mouth, staining the cracked gold of his armor. "You underestimate… a force far beyond anything… you can imagine."

"Even on the brink of death, you still waste your breath," Prince Stolas scoffed. "Well, I have no time for this. Goodbye."

As he finished speaking, the crimson magic circles around King Alorik glowed brighter, spinning faster and faster.

From within the circles, streams of magic missiles shot out one after another, slamming into King Alorik's already battered and broken body. Each impact drove him further into the ground, until he was left sprawled and motionless, blood pooling beneath him.