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Chapter 20 – The Sovereign of the Shadow Realm

Time flows differently amidst shadows. In places untouched by the sun, it is not hours or days that pass—but intentions, desires, and fears. V was now the ruler of such a place. Beyond darkness, he had forged a new kingdom—the Shadow Realm, where he reigned as its undisputed sovereign. On the surface world, his name was uttered only in whispers; but within the shadows, it was carried like a hymn across continents. V was no longer an exile—he was the darkness itself.

This godlike being, reborn from ash, had begun to twist reality itself since his ascension to the fourth tier. Once confined to movement between shadows, V now tore through the fabric of space with a single step, collapsing distance into the breadth of a breath. His face, obscured by shadow, gleamed with eyes like stardust—shimmering as though harboring the secrets of the cosmos. Each footfall bent the earth beneath him; reality cracked where he walked. Space and shadow had merged at the whim of his will.

The first to appear was Griffon, tearing through the skies with wings of silver. His feathers caught the moonlight, and his eyes burned with the wrath of the infinite sky. No longer a mere mount, he had become a celestial guardian. Summoned into form by V’s command, this beast was the earthly echo of a will from another realm. He carried the fury of the heavens, and with every beat of his wings, the sky itself splintered.

Then came Shadow, born of silence itself. His body dissolved into mist, yet his gaze pierced all things—stone, mountain, even the veil of destiny. No longer confined to the dark, Shadow walked within the heart of light. With the agility of an assassin, the patience of a demon, and the unyielding loyalty of a true companion, he moved. Each of his steps echoed like a prophecy through the gloom.

And at last, Nightmare. With his arrival, the heavens blackened, and for a moment, reality froze. All living beings were gripped by their deepest fear. Nightmare was no mere beast—he was the specter rising from the abyss of the mind. His summoning split the sky, birthing a scream from the dark. His presence deified the shadow, reminding the cosmos that V was not merely a sorcerer—but the very author of fate.

At the heart of these three summons, the Shadow Realm rose—not as a settlement, but as a dimension unshackled from the physical world. Its gates opened only by V’s will; only those he permitted could cross its threshold. Time here flowed according to his whims, gravity bowed to his decree. Towering spirals climbed the skies, palaces of obsidian black stone stood like titans, and islands of shadow floated silently in the void above. Light was a guest here; darkness, the eternal host. V’s throne sat at the realm’s core, within a massive structure of shadow-veined marble—where all the world’s gloom converged into a vortex of might.

But this kingdom’s people were not mortals. They were creatures shaped from shadow, born of V’s darkness, and loyal warriors reborn beneath his rule. They gazed upon him not with fear, but reverence. To them, he was not just a king, but a savior—a protector, a god who brought light to their darkness. V’s name was a prayer in this realm; when whispered, shadows stirred; when shouted, the very walls of the dimension trembled.

Yet such power demanded a price. The shadows no longer merely served—they whispered. At night, the darkness embedded in palace walls murmured forgotten names of ancient gods. These deities were not awakening in stars—but in memories. V’s rising power disturbed their slumber. The shadows warned him:

“You have pushed beyond your limits. This world can no longer hold you. But the sleepers… they are watching.”

V seemed to hear them—but another fire burned in his chest: pride. He no longer saw his limits. With each new summon, each incantation, he grew grander in his own eyes. He was not merely a warrior, nor an exile. He was a king. But more than that—he was a myth incarnate, perhaps even the dawn of a new god.

“The time has come…” he murmured, seated upon his throne. His eyes turned to the darkness—and the darkness answered.

“The world is too small for me now. The Shadow Realm is not enough. I need more. Deeper darkness, brighter lights… If the forgotten gods are awakening, then I must awaken before them.”

He looked to the sky—but not this sky. It was the endless void of the Shadow Realm. Within it, he searched for a fracture, a passage, a call… For V’s plans no longer centered on defense—but dominion. He knew he had disrupted the balance of the world, yet believed only he held the right to restore it.

Thus, the sovereign of shadows began weaving a new prophecy in silence. With every step, the shadows parted before him. With every breath, the heartbeat of the universe quickened. V had shed the chains of the past—marching toward a destiny as the dark lord of the future.

Yet in the silence, a single voice echoed…

A voice even the shadows feared:

“They are awakening, V… And you are still falling.”