OP Absorption
Chapter 92: The King Has Arrived

Chapter 92: The King Has Arrived

The Commander’s shadowy form pulsed with amusement, the oppressive mana in the clearing shifting like a living thing. "Surrender," the cold voice echoed again. "Your King is newly chosen. His domain is weak. Under my King’s wing, you might yet survive."

Scarlet’s grip on her daggers tightened, her knuckles white. Every instinct screamed at her to run. This thing? It wasn’t just strong—it was on another level entirely. The werewolves had been tough, but this? This was like standing in front of a hurricane and pretending you could weather it.

Arachne, though? She didn’t budge. Her knees shook, her breath came fast, but she stood her ground. "Let me counter your offer," she said, voice steady despite the fear tightening her throat. "Leave immediately. Maybe my Lord will spare you."

The Commander’s laughter wasn’t a sound—it was a vibration, something that rattled bones. "Oh? Where is he now?" The shadows twisted, mocking. "Hiding in his castle like a coward while the girls do the heavy lifting? Sounds less like a King and more like a child playing pretend."

Arachne moved. Fast. Faster than she had against the werewolves, a blur of motion aimed straight at the Commander.

It didn’t matter.

The shadowy arm lifted, almost lazily, and flicked outward.

She hit the tree with a crunch that made Scarlet wince. The impact splintered bark, sent leaves raining down. She slumped, coughing, blood flecking her lips. Her vision swam, her ribs screamed—broken, probably.

’Why am I doing this?’ The thought flickered through her dazed mind. She barely knew Fin. He wasn’t her King, not really. Not like the Queen had been.

But with the Queen, everything had been cold. Calculated. A spider’s web of control, every thread pulling tighter until you couldn’t breathe.

Fin? His mana hummed inside her, warm, alive. Not a leash. A choice.

She dragged herself up, one arm wrapped around her ribs. Blood dripped from her nose, her vision blurred, but she stood.

The Commander tilted its head. "Persistent."

Another flick.

This time, she felt the snap of her collarbone before she even hit the ground. She rolled, gasping, fingers clawing at the moss.

Scarlet didn’t move. She just watched, frozen, as Arachne forced herself up again. And again.

’She’s insane,’ Scarlet thought, her own legs trembling. Every cell in her body screamed at her to bolt. But where? The domain was locked. No exit without Fin.

Arachne spat blood, swaying on her feet. "You... talk too much," she managed.

The Commander sighed, the sound like wind through dead trees. "Pathetic."

Another wave.

She flew back, skidding across the ground. She didn’t get up this time. Just lay there, breathing ragged, one eye cracked open.

Scarlet finally found her voice. "Okay, okay—enough!" She threw her daggers down, hands raised. "We get it! You’re scary! Can we skip the rest of the beating and just—"

The Commander’s attention shifted to her. Her mouth snapped shut.

He waved her into a tree like swatting a fly. She hit with a thud that knocked the breath clean out of her, stars exploding behind her eyes. ’Okay,’ she thought dimly, tasting dirt and regret, ’definitely should have stayed on the highway.’

From the ground, Arachne managed one last desperate act. She flung one of her short knives, a final spurt of defiance. It spun through the air, barely scratching the Commander’s swirling shadow before clattering harmlessly to the moss.

He stood over Arachne, the oppressive mana in the air pressing down like a physical weight. A suggestion of a hand, formed from the swirling darkness, rose, aimed at the crumpled figure on the ground. It was the final, casual gesture of annihilation.

Then, a flicker. Not the sickly light from the fissure, but something else. A movement so fast it barely registered, a whisper of displaced air. A dark shape detached itself from the deeper shadows beneath the trees.

It wasn’t running; it was accelerating into existence, a streak against the oppressive gloom of the domain.

It shot across the clearing, impossibly quick. One moment, the shadowy hand was poised to strike Arachne; the next, the dark shape intercepted, scooping Arachne up with a sudden, powerful gentleness.

The blur didn’t stop. With Arachne held securely, it arced upwards, flowing with uncanny grace towards one of the towering, gnarled trees. There was a soft impact, a whisper of cloth against bark, and then it solidified.

Fin stood on a thick, horizontal branch, maybe fifteen feet up. He held Arachne in his arms, his stance balanced, relaxed, utterly still. The dark aura that clung to him seemed to drink the meager light, swirling like a controlled storm around his form.

Silence fell over the clearing, thick and absolute, broken only by the distant thrum of the unstable fissure. The Commander, his hand still raised, seemed to pause, an unseen head tilting towards the figure perched in the tree.

Arachne stirred in his arms, coughing weakly. Her eyes fluttered open, dark and pained. She looked up at Fin’s face, saw the terrifying darkness in his eyes, but also... something else. A cold, quiet certainty.

"My Lord..." she whispered, her voice thin. Pain lanced through her ribs, her collarbone. "I am sorry. I... I couldn’t..." Shame warred with the agony. She failed. She was supposed to protect his domain, his guests.

"You did well," he said softly, his voice devoid of accusation. He adjusted his grip, holding her more comfortably. "Rest for now."

As he spoke, a faint, steady green light pulsed from his hands where they touched her. It sank into her battered body, knitting broken bone, soothing torn muscle. The sharpest edges of the pain receded, leaving a dull ache. She sighed, relaxing slightly against him.

He looked down at her for another second, ensuring she was stable, then his gaze lifted, fixing on the Commander. He gently lowered her, settling her carefully against the thick trunk of the tree, propped securely on the sturdy branch.

Then, he pushed off the branch. Not a jump, or a fall. Just a movement, controlled and precise, dropping lightly to the ground. He landed without a sound, standing maybe twenty feet from the Commander.

The Commander’s shadowy form rippled, the oppressive mana in the clearing shifting like a living thing. "You," the cold voice echoed, laced with something between amusement and disbelief. "You’re the King of this domain?"

Fin didn’t flinch. "Depends on who’s asking."

A low, humorless chuckle vibrated through the air. "Commander Dan, First Blade of King Kain. My King has sent me to claim this place." The shadows around him pulsed, the pressure in the air thickening. "And yet... here you are. A child playing ruler."

Fin tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "King Kain, huh? Sounds fancy."

Dan’s form flickered, the darkness coiling tighter. "You mock me?"

"Nah. Just not impressed."

A beat of silence. Then—

"You reek of weakness," he hissed. "Your domain is fresh, unstable. Barely a foothold in the void. And you stand before me like you have a choice?" The shadows twisted, condensing into something sharper, more lethal. "Kneel. Swear fealty. My King may yet spare you."

Fin exhaled, slow and deliberate. His fingers flexed at his sides, the dark energy around him responding, swirling faster.

’Spare me? Funny.’

He’d been hunted, betrayed, labeled a monster. And now this shadowy lackey thought he’d just roll over?

"Hard pass," he said.

Dan’s form stilled.

Then, the pressure in the clearing spiked, crushing down like an invisible fist. The trees groaned, the moss beneath their feet flattening under the weight.

Scarlet, still slumped against a tree, gritted her teeth. ’Oh, come on. More of this crap?’ Her ribs ached, her vision swam, but she forced herself to focus. This wasn’t just a fight—it was a damn execution. And Fin? He was standing there like he had all the time in the world.

Arachne, propped up in the branches above, clutched the tree trunk, her knuckles white. Her body still burned from the healing, but her eyes were locked on Fin. He hadn’t hesitated. Hadn’t faltered.

But Dan? He wasn’t just strong. He was something else entirely.

He lifted a hand, the shadows forming into a blade—long, jagged, dripping with void-black energy. "Then die."

He moved.

One second he was standing there, the next he was in front of Fin, the shadow-blade slicing downward with enough force to split the earth.

Fin didn’t dodge.

He caught it.

His hand snapped up, dark energy flaring around his fingers as he gripped the blade mid-swing. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the clearing, kicking up dirt and leaves. The shadow-blade trembled in his grasp, straining against his hold.

Dan froze.

Fin met his unseen gaze, unblinking. "You talk too much."