Awakening in The World of Gods

Tiara's voice cut through the tense air."*I'm bored.*"

The words were spoken with such utter disinterest, so nonchalant, they shouldn't have carried any weight. And yet, the moment Tiara said them, the battlefield froze.

Poll's breath caught in his throat. **No, no, no. That tone—**

The temperature dropped like a stone, the warmth of the world stolen as a suffocating, oppressive aura erupted from Tiara's small form. Black mist slithered out of her body, stretching across the clearing like sentient smoke. The air turned heavy, unnatural. Poll could feel it crawling against his skin, clawing into his lungs.

Around her, Tiara's two assistants convulsed violently, their silhouettes distorting as if their very bodies rejected the influx of power. Dark veins erupted beneath their skin, their muscles swelling grotesquely as the black aura soaked into their beings.

The assistants straightened, their faces twisted into inhuman grins, teeth sharper, eyes glowing crimson with unholy light. Their laughter echoed unnaturally—grating, broken, like glass shattering in slow motion.

"What… is this?" Eryndor muttered under his breath, instinctively stepping in front of Poll and Elowen. His warrior's instincts flared as he gritted his teeth. "A power like this… it's not human."

Poll's fingers twitched. He couldn't move. For all the overthinking his brain did on a regular day, right now, it screamed at him, words scrambling together into frantic static. This is bad. Really bad.This mana density… it's like she's pulling something primal.

One assistant let out a guttural laugh, his voice warped and reverberating like a broken bell. "This power… it's incredible."

The other assistant cracked their neck, the movement sickeningly audible. "We'll crush you all."

Poll's jaw clenched, his mind racing. They're absorbing her power—like conduits amplifying her corruption. If they weren't dangerous enough before, now they're turning into… monsters.

Eryndor, standing like a wall in front of Poll, snarled. "They're evolving. This isn't good…"

Poll's wide eyes darted toward Tiara. She stood at the center of her maelstrom, untouched, golden eyes gleaming with a cruel, dangerous light.

Then, breaking through the stillness, came a voice as heavy as the weight of mountains.

"Well then…"

A low rumble, deep as the earth itself.

Kaedros.

Poll's neck snapped around as **The Ironclad Warlord** stepped forward from the swirling mist. The demon lord's frame loomed massive, clad in blackened armor etched with glowing war runes. His warhammer, impossibly large, rested across his shoulders like it weighed nothing. The ground cracked beneath his feet with every step.

"If you're bored," Kaedros continued, his tone like a predator's growl, "then perhaps I'll be the one to *entertain* you."

Poll flinched. Kaedros… the Demon Lord himself? What the hack..! He's not supposed to be here.

Ohh Well that's fine, I think the now fight getting interesting,

Before Poll's thoughts could spiral further, Kaedros vanished.

No sound. No warning. Just… gone.

Poll blinked.

"Wha—"

*Boom!*

A deafening shockwave tore through the clearing as Kaedros reappeared behind Tiara, warhammer already descending. The sheer force of the swing split the air, a sonic boom rippling outward like a wave of destruction.

But Tiara was no longer there.

She appeared midair, her body floating effortlessly, her eyes narrowing with faint intrigue. A sly, unsettling smile tugged at her lips.

"The Ironclad Warlord… Now this could be *fun*," she said softly, her voice laced with a thrill that sent ice down Poll's spine.

And then they were gone.

Kaedros launched himself upward with impossible speed, his massive warhammer blazing with runic light. Tiara rose to meet him, her body trailing streams of black mist as if she were a dark comet ascending to strike.

They clashed midair.

The collision erupted in a blinding flash, shockwaves shattering the ground below and sending debris cascading in every direction. The sky roared, crackling with distorted magic and energy as Kaedros swung relentlessly, each strike shattering the very air. Tiara countered with dark magic that twisted reality itself—tendrils of void energy warping and snapping at his hammer.

Poll watched, rooted to the spot. His breath came shallow, mind racing.

**This isn't just a battle. This is… a war between monsters. And we're ants stuck in the middle of it.**

And then—

"Wait… no." Poll's whisper broke through his own frantic thoughts. He shook his head violently. **No, no, no! My thinking's spiraling. This is going wrong. I need—**

Suddenly, time seemed to slow around him.

Poll's breathing stilled as his inner voice twisted sharply, becoming jagged, chaotic.

**Think, Poll. THINK!**

What's wrong with this picture? Why is this happening?

Tiara's aura—monstrous. Unnatural. She's the *boss.* Poll's mind churned. "But bosses don't show up first. That's not how this works," he muttered to himself, his voice rapid, his eyes darting wildly. "Bosses—**final bosses—**only come when everything else fails. So why is she here now?"

His pupils widened in sudden understanding.

"Unless…"

A puzzle piece snapped into place.

"The *tower.*"

The realization shot through him like ice water.

**Of course!** She wasn't here to fight. She was here for the *protective tower*.

Poll's mind spun faster now, stringing theories together like wire in a machine. Five towers across the kingdom, all critical to its defenses. If Tiara's here, and she's this strong, then—

**She sent someone else for the other towers.**

Poll's face paled. "She didn't come here to fight Kaedros. She's here to stall him. To distract *all of us.*"

He stumbled back a step, his heart hammering in his chest. "The kingdom's other towers—"

**Destroyed. Or under siege.**

A broken, sharp laugh escaped his lips. "Genius, Poll. You figured it out. We're doomed!"

"Poll!" Eryndor's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, snapping him back to the battlefield. "Focus! What's wrong?!"

Poll's head shot up, his expression an unsettling mix of panic and exhilaration. "It's not about *us*! It's about everything else. She's here because she doesn't *need* to fight! She's already won!"

Eryndor frowned. "What are you talking about?!"

Poll's chaotic grin stretched wider. "It doesn't matter! None of this matters if we're already too late!"

In that moment, Tiara's dark mist rippled unnaturally, and Kaedros's roar echoed through the battlefield as another shockwave split the air.

Poll clenched his fists. His voice dropped, a low mutter that only he could hear. "But you know what? Screw the towers. Screw the kingdom. I'll get us out of this mess. I just have to…"

He took a deep breath, his manic grin returning.

"…do something *different.*"

Above him, Kaedros and Tiara's clash sent a ripple of energy cascading downward, blasting apart the landscape. But Poll was already moving, his overthinking mind now hurtling toward the next impossible plan.