Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest

Despite the stump where his arm had been severed and the dark veins throbbing beneath his skin, Mordred’s sneers reverberated through the dream world.

Acid coursed through his body, fire seared his marrow. Yet, not a drop of blood trickled down as he towered before Titania’s dishevelled figure.

Flesh squirmed, and wounds closed. A new arm sprouted, fresh blood washed the lethal venoms, and broken bones rearranged themselves with sickening crunches.

"What unholy aberration birthed you?" Titania muttered, clutching the oozing gash running across her chest.

Mordred raised Clarent, his dented armor looking more threatening than when it was pristine. He chuckled, the spikes clanging in a grating melody.

"Unholy? I guess you’re right. Not that it’s as spectacular as you might imagine." His blue eyes narrowed. "I’m just the incestuous son of Arthur and his sister Morgan, but..."

His lips curled into a smirk. "Grandma thought it would be a good idea to magnify my father’s blood and add a drop from the mythical hydra. I’m a nightmare infiltrated in the waking world, the kind that makes children shudder and adults cry in horror. Nothing can kill me but utter annihilation, for I’ll always return, even if a single cell is all that survives. I can understand your curiosity, but... that’s not how I would have spent my last second if I were in your boots." His voice chilled. "Behind you, Titania."

Before his voice even faded, Garduck’s broadsword cleaved through the wind. The crushing downward strike blasted angry gales on her pale face. This demon again!

Her heart sank. She had nothing left to even the odds. Mab negated her aerial dominance by providing her champions frozen platforms to reach her. She could defend herself with mana barriers, just as she was doing.

The blade clanged on its shimmering surface like the previous times. But the respite was short-lived. In fact, it might as well not have existed. Panting, she threw herself to the side—just as Mab’s magic dissolved her mana barrier.

She felt the cold, demonic steel graze her skin, adding a shallow gash to the blood stains marring it. But her gaze was already elsewhere.

If she had felt relief after understanding that Garduck couldn’t wield his essence to weave spells, she only felt pure horror as, once again, Mordred hurled a few drops of blood in her direction.

Each transformed into a scarlet nail, all aimed at her left side. She had no choice but to dodge to the right. But she knew he was already moving there with Clarent, ready to cut her down.

Both enemies were weaker, so how could they corner her this much? She clenched her teeth, summoning vines for protection, only for them to wither into dust, scattered by the ceremonial sword as it slashed across her abdomen.

"ARGH!" She roared in agony, her features twisting in defeat.

Did Oberon not feel Mab’s interference? Or... was he in as much danger as she was? The answer terrorised her more than the pain, and she began to wonder if her struggles were merely lengthening her agony. Giving up sounded... better.

She glanced beneath her, catching Mab’s leisure posture and smirk. She gritted her teeth. That witch! There was no way she would give up until Mab struck personally!

A steely glint flashing in her eyes, she squeezed every ounce of energy her exhausted body could produce. "I won’t die humiliated, Mab!"

Nature rumbled around Mab, vines and roots rising into hulking fists. The water in the air condensed into razor-sharp blades, followed by roaring gales. "I’ll at least erase that smirk from your face!"

As she controlled everything to collapse on Mab, however, the queen of magic’s gothic dress fluttered.

A wave of frost erupted from her, freezing the water before it exploded into brilliant shards. Death beckoned from the ground, swallowing the plants in their eternal embrace. They collapsed into dust, not a single speck smearing Mab’s confidant posture.

"A charming delusion, Titania—but no more than that. You’ll perish as you lived: grasping, green-eyed, ever howling at stars brighter than your own." Mab’s smirk curved like a knife. "Her pitiful visage offends me. Be done with her."

Before her voice faded, Garduck’s stomps cracked the icy platform.

His broadsword flashed, other emotions fueling his relentless strikes. Mab’s vengeance didn’t concern him. Only Adam did. Each second wasted was another risk he didn’t want to take. So, he swung with all his strength.

Opposite him, Mordred’s eyes narrowed. He lunged forward for different reasons. "I told you I’ll be the one to kill a god today. Stand down, Garduck!"

Stuck between the two strikes, Titania smiled bitterly. The new queen of magic? The title Oberon had given her sounded hollow now... Even after millennia of practice, Mab’s mastery felt like a star, blazing yet out of her reach.

She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw to keep the pain in. Even if she lost, she would cling to the little dignity she had left. After all, she, too, was a queen. And as such, she wouldn’t give Mab the satisfaction of screaming or pleading. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

The agony of feeling her flesh pierced made her tremble. Cold infiltrated her, life seeping along the two blades. Her legs buckled, but she kept everything in. Instead, she couldn’t help but remember Mab’s words.

Had they made a mistake by imprisoning her when she claimed she would have stepped down on her own? How could she believe the cruel queen of magic? And yet, no matter which memory she browsed, a soft smile curved Mab’s lips each time she looked at Oberon...

Green-eyed... She had admired Mab at first. But now that nothing mattered anymore, it was indeed true. Admiration became jealousy and jealousy made her search for flaws in her character.

How could a fairy attuned to chaos, death, and frost rule peaceful people? Her shenanigans had always troubled their citizens. And yet, now that she compared, they seemed more lively back then.

A tear trailed down her cheek as her body fell on the ice, her blood tainting its immaculate surface red.

She had sinned more than any fairy in convincing Oberon to overthrow his mother. Now, she saw it... and it hurt. Everything she had believed in and done mirrored the ugliness she had hidden deep inside.