King Narakorath
The alley stretched out long and steep, yet King Narakorath strode with such swiftness that he reached its end within a matter of minutes. His entourage of regular-sized humans struggled to keep pace, their hurried steps a futile attempt to match the King's giant, broad stride.
At the passage's end stood a room guarded by two colossal snakes, each with a lion's head. The room itself was anything but ordinary. Every aspect exuded grandeur, from the monumental door to the soaring ceiling and the expansive windows.
While his entourage maintained their vigilant watch outside, the androgynous King stepped into the room. He advanced towards the center, where a massive chair and a meticulously arranged table awaited. Through the table's positioning, the King faced a gigantic window that revealed a magnificent yet ominous sight—an enshrouded, desolate volcano peak, perpetually emitting plumes of smoke and ash.
Suddenly, the colossal window transformed its display, now revealing the face of a weary and frightened man. As the King settled into the imposing chair, the man on the other end attempted a smile, albeit failing to conceal his profound terror.
"Permission to report on your Crimsonfire, My Lord," General Malakar's voice quivered yet remained steady.
"Hmmm... you are tardy! The report was to be delivered when I was in the tracking room, General," the King's voice resounded heavily, shaking the very bones of those who heard it.
"My apologies, My Lord. I was engrossed in leading my army to rescue your beast, My Lord. I vow never to be late in reporting to you again." The General's tone had grown resolute, albeit tinged with fear.
"And we have successfully pinpointed its whereabouts. The initial team has arrived and attended to your beloved creature. It is gravely injured, but... it shall endure, my King... You have my word—" Despite the pauses, the General concluded his report with a firmer voice, devoid of tremors.
"I do not value your words, General. Instead, I hold you and your loved ones' souls accountable for your failures." The King's reply sent shivers down General Malakar's spine, draining the color from his already pale face.
With a wave of his hand, the colossal display monitor reverted to its original form—an expansive window. Shortly after, the King's booming voice resounded, calling out a name.
The door swung open, and a stooped figure entered. The elderly man walked painstakingly slowly, relying on a wrinkled wooden staff to maintain balance. Clad in a tattered dark cloak, he had not been among the entourage that accompanied the King earlier.
The old man's eyes appeared reddened, their iris a milky yellow. His cloak concealed most of his head, leaving only his face exposed. It was a pallid countenance, creased with age, much like his gnarled walking stick.
Frail and deliberate were his movements, yet the evil King, who had demanded swiftness from his General, displayed unwavering patience as the figure drew near. There was no trace of urgency emanating from the King.
"Welcome, Shormurda, my trusted advisor. I am grateful for your swift response to my summons," the King spoke, conveying immense respect for the old man.
"I am at your service, King Narakorath, as I was to your grandfather, The Dead King Narakorath One," the old advisor replied with a voice that rang loud, shrill, and haunting. His vocal presence seemed disproportionate to his frail, diminutive frame.
"Hmmm... Grandfather... it is regrettable that I had to bring about his demise... if only—" the King muttered at the mention of his grandfather's name.
"What task do you wish me to undertake, My King?" the advisor interjected boldly, interrupting the King's musings.
"I need your power, as usual. I need to reach the brat prince on Cresentia. Can you help me, my Old Advisor?" The Evil King politely asks the old man. It is as if he fears the old man will reject his request if he's not asking nicely.
"Of course, My King. Get yourself ready," said the frail old man, lifting his staff with both hands. Then flickers of lights radiate from the top of the staff. It's getting brighter by the second. And at its brightest, it shot a perpetual bolt of light at The King.
As the King becomes engulfed with a graying light, his mind can now focus on anyone in Gaia. His mind quickly traveled and found a particular mind. A mind of a prince in the Cresentia's King's Castle.
As The King entered the prince's mind, he saw and heard what the prince saw and heard. A naked woman screamed in pain as the prince thrust his manhood brutally into the woman's genitalia from behind while his hand squeezed her breast and pulled her hair.
Then The Evil King Narakorath let himself be known by the prince. As the prince is shocked by a strange and powerful presence in his mind, he throws himself off the woman. And as the woman freed from his brutal grip, the woman ran away from the room, leaving the prince naked and staggered.
"I need you to do your job better, you foolish prince! Alex was riding a weapon-equipped aircraft! You should have told me about that!" Exclaimed the King with a terrifying heavy voice.
The prince's eyes widened, and The King could feel the prince's heart jump faster.
****
Meanwhile, at the same time, Lady Ayana's aircraft is peacefully cruising the night. They are no longer watching the moon. But no one can sleep, not even the pilot, even though she could set the aircraft on autopilot.
Lady Ayana, her team, and Prince Alexander are on the lookout, using the aircraft's radar and binoculars. Prince Alex even used his Mind Scanner power to scan any living being within the one-mile radius of the aircraft's sphere. But other than birds, no dangerous flying beasts were detected. And not one of the living beings flying toward the aircraft.
Meanwhile, Tristan and Valeria focus on something else. Both close and open their eyes several times as if trying to sleep. But they are not trying to sleep. Both are practicing their Mental Mind Power to each other's mind. Attacking each other's Mental Mind and detecting each other's Mental Mind Presence.