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SM/DC Chapter 130 : Shadow Monarch VS Trigon The Terrible
🕑 Added 2025-05-27 22:38:23 +0000 UTCArthur Blackwynd floated. still and silent. Sword in hand, gauntlets aglow.
His eyes weren’t on the demon.
They were turned inward.
Inside Arthur’s mind, darkness stirred like a curtain being pulled back. A cold, immense presence pressed down on his soul. Then came the voice ancient, sovereign, weightier than gravity.
“Thou seeketh to challenge ruin incarnate…
In your state, it is naught but suicide.”
Arthur grit his teeth. “You’re saying that I’ll die if I fight right now?”
“Indeed,” Ashborn rumbled. “Thou art not yet worthy of the Black Heart.”
Words bloomed before Arthur’s mind like ancient scripture, carved into shadow:
[CORE LOCKED: "BLACK HEART"]
[Condition: Defeat the Ashborn's Lieutenant “The Grand Marshal of The Shadow Army”]
Ashborn's voice continued, colder, yet unshaken.
“Thy strength is but a fleck
A speck of what slumbers in thy soul.
And yet…”
Arthur narrowed his eyes, listening.
“I cannot let the vessel of mine power perish at the hands of a Demon.
For him to vanquish the greatest fragment of brilliant light...
It wouldst be a stain upon my name an insult to the one
who once led the angelic legions in divine war.”
Arthur clenched his jaw. “So you don’t believe in me.”
“No,” Ashborn said without pause. “Thou art rash. Indecisive. And woefully stubborn.”
Arthur’s head lowered slightly. He didn’t argue.
Ashborn’s voice softened just enough to carry weight, not warmth.
“But despite thy flaws,
There is reason why I yet choose you.”
Outside, Arthur hadn’t moved. He was frozen midair before a horror, unflinching but eerily still.
Below, John Constantine looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Why the bloody hell is he spacing out now of all times?” he muttered. “He’s just... standing there!”
Galatea narrowed her gaze. “Something’s happening to my king.”
Arthur remained still as Ashborn’s presence loomed one final time.
“The Black Heart remains sealed Unlock it by proving your might.
Vanquish my Loyal Knight. Claim it with power and wisdom.”
Arthur blinked. “This...Lieutenant? You mean... Bellion?”
Ashborn offered no answer.
Then the voice echoed again, fading like an eclipse in reverse:
“For now…
I shall bestow a mere sliver of mine true essence.
Bear it well… and make thy defiance known to this Demon.”
“May Death and terror guide your hand.”
Arthur opened his mouth. “Wait Ashborn!, I still need to ask...”
But the voice was gone.
And then it hit him.
A surge of power deeper than the ocean, darker than midnight, colder than the void. It rushed through him like a dam breaking violent and absolute. The shadows around him spiraled wildly, snarling, writhing, consumed by new hunger.
Arthur arched back midair as dark shadows erupted from his body then steadied, breath sharp, focused.
His fingers trembled around the hilt of the Demon King Longsword. Not from fear, but from the overwhelming energy.
He slowly opened his eyes.
They now burned with a violet gleam so sharp, so vivid, it pierced the dusk like a beacon of war.
Ultra, Galatea, Empress all behind him froze at the sight of their Monarch.
Arthur exhaled once.
Then he whispered.
“…This.. Is only a little of your true power you said...”
A beat of silence.
Then Arthur charged.
The air split behind him in a violent rush as he surged forward, a comet of shadow and fury. His gauntlets pulsed with fresh power, each fist wrapped in swirling violet tendrils of deathly aura. Behind him, his shadow followed like a vengeful legion but this time, Arthur was at the tip of the spear.
Trigon the massive demon god, still preparing his attack, his voice like a thousand souls weeping in reverse. His six burning eyes flicked toward Arthur. He didn't shift. He didn’t raise a hand. He didn’t stop casting.
But then… he paused.
His massive brow furrowed.
“What is this that I'm sensing…?”
Something had changed.
There was something different about this ‘mortal.’
Then impact.
Arthur’s fist connected with Trigon’s jaw.
The shockwave cracked the skies. The sheer force blasted red clouds backward and bent the skyline below. Trigon’s head didn’t just tilt his head this time, his entire form lurched. The great demon’s body jerked as if struck by the fist of a true god.
And then he flew.
A streak of red muscle and black flame slammed downward, crashing through the upper atmosphere like a meteor. He struck the streets of Metropolis with an explosive boom that shattered windows and sent parked cars flipping in the shockwave.
John Constantine levitating beside Zatanna thanks to her spell gawked, his cigarette falling from his lips. “Bloody hell, mate…”
Zatanna gasped, voice soft with disbelief. “That punch...”
Raven opened one eye mid-chant. Her heart skipped a beat. She felt the power shift. She sensed that presence within Arthur once.
“It’s that Great Drakness…” she whispered.
But she closed her eyes again. She couldn’t stop now.
Smoke and ash swirled as Trigon rose from the crater, horns cracked, his pride wounded, fury mounting.
“What!? How can this be?!” he thundered, voice shaking buildings. “You were nothing! A lesser worm of shadows!”
Arthur didn’t answer.
He appeared beside Trigon like a phantom silent, eyes glowing violet, radiating malice. His very shadow cast a wave of dread across the crater, as if the world itself feared his steps.
Then the fight began.
Trigon lunged, claws sweeping massive, fast and brutal.
Arthur ducked beneath the first strike, spun, and delivered a crescent kick to Trigon’s side. The demon reeled, belching fire from his gullet in rage. Arthur darted aside, the flames missing by inches, incinerating an entire block behind him.
Trigon’s fire roared and he raised a hand, summoning pillars of hellfire that spewed upward like volcanic eruptions. Arthur flew between them, weaving, fists cracking against ribs, knees slamming into flesh like hammers of vengeance.
From his six eyes, Trigon unleashed streams of laser fury.
Arthur vanished.
[Speed Step]
He reappeared mid-spin, striking Trigon in the throat. The demon choked, staggered.
Still Arthur said nothing. No quips. No taunts. Only silence.
Trigon bellowed. “You dare strike me?! You think a puppet of death can challenge Trigon the Terrible?!”
Arthur’s answer came in the form of another blow.
His shadow surged around him, and the Demon King’s Longsword began to materialize in his right hand runes glowing blue with lightning, forged from the very shadows. It howled as it finished forming, as though it too wanted blood.
Arthur gripped it and struck.
A flash of silver-black mixed with lightning fury tore across the battlefield.
He aimed for the head but Trigon shifted at the last instant.
Still, the blade bit.
A terrible screech of bone splitting echoed across the city as one of Trigon’s massive horns was severed clean. The jagged stump smoldered. The horn fell like a monument, crashing through buildings below.
Trigon screamed.
“INSOLENT..!!”
He howled in pain and rage, shadow and flame billowing around him.
John let out a slow breath, watching from afar. “…That mad bastard actually drew blood.”
Zatanna stared, voice reverent. “I didn’t think it was possible…”
Raven kept her focus, chanting, but her lips quivered.
Her heart thundered in her chest.
‘He’s fighting him. Not surviving him… Actually fighting my father...’
This wasn’t the reckless, stubborn Arthur she’d come to know.
She knew it was a whole different presence, something terrifying and at the same time it gave that sense of salvation.
Arthur walked forward, slow and steady, his boots dragging through cracked stone. Each breath came harder than the last. Sweat clung to his skin, blood trickled from his side, his his strength faltering a bit, but his eyes, still violet, still determined.
Behind him, a sudden ripple in the air
Zatanna, John, and Raven appeared beside him.
John landed rough, brushing ash from his coat. “Well... that was something..” His eyes narrowed at Arthur. “But you don’t look too chipper, mate.”
Arthur didn’t respond at first. He was staring ahead, watching Trigon slowly rising again, the broken horn still crackling beside him. Then, Arthur took a shaky breath, sweat sliding down his temple, and muttered:
“I don’t think I can keep this pace anymore… so..”
He didn’t even get to finish.
Raven stepped forward, her voice clear and unwavering.
“I am ready.”
Her violet eyes glowed with power. Purpose. Her cloak fluttered in the infernal wind, and the marks of Trigon shimmered faintly along her face but she didn’t hide them anymore. She embraced them.
Arthur looked at her, and despite the fatigue, he smiled faintly.
“In that case,” he exhaled, tightening his grip on the Demon King’s Longsword, “let me make sure he doesn’t move.”
Trigon raised his hand, surging into a gathering inferno.
Arthur vanished in a blur of shadow and speed, his form flickering like death incarnate.
Comments
Mecha Destroyer98
I actually wonder right what level was Arthur at before requiring the black heart?
Cobalt
Fully expected john to make a comment about Arthur's new contact lenses tbh 🤣🤣
