Rise Of The Mage King

Chapter 7

CRACK.

The massive iron doors did not open. They did not fall down. They simply dissolved. The thick metal turned into a giant cloud of gray dust. A sudden, freezing wind blew from the hallway, pushing the dust into the Great Hall.

The nobles coughed and covered their eyes. The dust fell over the beautiful food. It fell into the red wine.

When the dust cleared, a person was standing in the doorway.

The nobles stared. They could not understand what they were looking at.

It was a boy. He was barefoot, wearing clothes that were torn into dirty rags. He was covered in thick, gray mud from head to toe—the kind of mud that smelled like the bottom of the world.

But the boy was not normal.

Deep, dark veins branched across his pale skin. They climbed up his neck and down his arms. And those veins were glowing. They pulsed with a faint, terrifying violet light, beating like a dark heart.

But the most frightening thing was his eyes. They were not human eyes anymore. They were pools of glowing purple fire.

Felix pulled his sword out. His hands were shaking. He recognized the dirty rags. He recognized the face beneath the gray mud.

"Lord Vargus..." Felix whispered. "It... it is the Null. The rat. He is back."

Vargus dropped his silver cup. It hit the marble floor with a loud clang, spilling red wine everywhere like blood. Vargus’s face turned completely white. His jaw dropped open.

"No," Vargus said. He stepped back, bumping into his chair. "Impossible. You went over the edge. I saw you fall! No one survives the Chasm! No one climbs out!"

Drogo Payne did not say a word. He looked around the beautiful, bright room. He saw the laughing nobles. He saw the wasted food. He saw the floating lights. Then, his glowing purple eyes locked onto Vargus.

Drogo took a step forward. His bare foot left a wet, gray footprint on the perfect marble floor.

"Kill him!" Vargus screamed. His voice was high and full of panic. He pointed his wrapped hand at Drogo. "Kill that dirty rat! Burn him until there is nothing left!"

Felix and three other elite mage-guards rushed forward. They did not use their swords. They were trained mages. They raised their hands.

"Fireball!" the guards shouted together.

Four massive spheres of bright yellow fire appeared in the air. The heat was so strong it made the nobles sweat. The guards threw their hands forward, sending the fireballs flying straight at Drogo.

Drogo did not try to dodge. He did not run away. He didn't even lift his arms to protect his face.

He just kept walking forward, slow and steady.

The first fireball hit him directly in the chest.

The nobles waited for the explosion. They waited to hear the street rat scream as his flesh burned to bone.

But there was no explosion.

The moment the bright yellow fire touched Drogo’s skin, his glowing black veins flared with bright purple light. The fire did not burn him. It did not push him back. The fireball just... sank into him. It disappeared into his chest like a drop of water falling into a dry desert.

The next three fireballs hit him. Sshhhh. Sshhhh. Sshhhh. They all vanished into his body.

No smoke. No burns. Just nothing.

Inside Drogo’s mind, the glowing purple text of the Abyssal Archive scrolled quickly:

[Fire Magic Devoured. Strength +10.]

[Fire Magic Devoured. Agility +5.]

[Fire Magic Devoured. Magic Resistance +15.]

[Host Capacity: Infinite. Hunger Level: Starving.]

Drogo breathed in deeply. He closed his eyes for a second, feeling the warm energy of the fireballs turn into cold, dark power inside his blood. It felt so good. He rolled his shoulders, and the cracked bones in his back popped.

The Great Hall was completely silent again.

Felix stared at his empty hands. The guard’s face was twisted in pure horror. "He ate it," Felix whispered. "He ate the fire."

"What is he?" Lady Sylas cried out, stepping behind Lord Kael. "Nulls cannot do that! Nulls are empty!"

Drogo opened his glowing eyes. He looked right at Lady Sylas.

"You are right," Drogo said. His voice was not the weak, scraping voice of the broken boy in the dungeon. His voice sounded like two heavy stones grinding together. It echoed in the large room. "I am empty. And I am so very hungry."

Vargus was shaking with rage and terror. The fire magic around his shoulders flared wildly. "Do not just stand there!" Vargus screamed at the guards. "Cut him to pieces! Cut off his head!"

Felix swallowed hard. He lifted his heavy steel sword with both hands and let out a loud battle cry. He ran at Drogo. The other three guards pulled their swords and followed him. They swung their sharp blades, aiming for Drogo’s neck, his chest, and his legs.

Drogo finally stopped walking. He stood completely still.

He looked at Felix. He remembered this man. This was the man who kicked him when he was down. This was the man who dragged him by his hair. This man protected the monster who wanted to take Tiana.

The core struggle in Drogo's heart—the desire to just take his family and run away—was completely gone. He knew that running would never work. The nobles would always hunt them. The strong would always eat the weak. The only way to protect his sister was to become the scariest monster in the world.

As Felix swung his heavy sword down, Drogo raised his right hand and pointed a single finger at the four running guards.

He remembered the name of his new power. "Return to ash," Drogo whispered.

[Entropy Flame]

A dark, pitch-black fire erupted from Drogo’s fingertip. It did not look like normal fire. It moved like water, completely silent, and it gave off no light and no heat. It shot forward and washed over Felix and the three guards.

The guards did not catch on fire. They did not burn.

But they stopped moving immediately.

Felix’s shiny silver armor instantly lost its shine. In the blink of an eye, the silver turned brown, then dark red, then black. It was rusting. Hundreds of years of rust happened in one single second.

Felix dropped his sword. The steel blade hit the floor and shattered into a million pieces of brown dust.

Felix looked down at his own hands. His strong, young skin was drying out. It wrinkled deeply. Brown spots covered his arms. His thick brown hair turned completely white and fell out of his head. His muscles shrank. His bones cracked.

"Help..." Felix gasped. His voice sounded like an old, dying man of two hundred years.

He reached a hand out toward Lord Vargus.

Before Felix could take another step, his arm completely turned to dry, gray ash. Then his chest turned to ash. Then his legs.

In less than three seconds, the four strong, elite mage-guards collapsed into four piles of gray dust on the marble floor. A gentle, cold wind blew through the room, scattering the dust over the shiny boots of the rich nobles.

They were gone. Wiped from the face of the earth. Deleted.

A woman screamed. It was a high, terrifying scream of pure panic.

Suddenly, the whole banquet hall exploded into chaos. The nobles, the powerful masters of the Empire, broke. They pushed each other, fighting to run away. Women in expensive dresses tripped over chairs. Fat lords dropped their gold and ran toward the broken doors.

"Monster!"

"Run! The Null is a demon!"

"Help us! Guards!"

Drogo did not care about the running nobles. He did not chase them. He just slowly turned his head back to the head table.

Lord Vargus had not run. He was frozen in his chair, staring at the four piles of dust on the floor. His breath was coming in short, panicked gasps.

Drogo started walking again. He stepped on the tables, his bare, mud-covered feet crushing the sweet cakes, breaking the glass fountains of wine, and ruining the expensive roasted meats. He walked straight down the middle of the long table toward Vargus.

"You said you wanted a pet, Vargus," Drogo said. The violet light in his eyes flared so brightly it cast purple shadows on the walls.

Vargus scrambled backward, falling out of his chair. He hit the floor hard, crawling away like a scared bug.

"Stay back!" Vargus screamed, holding his hands up. Real, powerful blue fire began to gather in his palms. "I am a High Noble! I am a Lord of Solara! You are just trash!"

Drogo jumped off the table, landing silently on the floor right in front of Vargus. He looked down at the pathetic, crawling man. The Abyssal Archive whispered in his mind, hungry, waiting for the feast.

"I used to be trash," Drogo said softly, raising his hand. "But now... I am the landfill that is going to choke you all."