My Charity System made me too OP-Chapter 243: Becoming the Ruler VI
A lion-beastman standing nearly ten feet tall in his humanoid form. Golden fur like fire in the wind, eyes like molten gold, a mane braided with the fangs of dragons. His roar had once cracked an entire valley and his claw could split mountains. But he sat still now, resting upon a throne of bones, awaiting the arrival of the one who dared march across the world unchecked.
When Shubh descended into the Prime Den, the air turned electric.
Thousands of beastmen filled the ridges, roars and growls echoing from all directions. Her eldritch wings folded behind her as her many tendrils slithered across the obsidian ground. She looked up at Thauron, tilting her head slightly.
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"I've come for your crown."
There were no pleasantries.
The beastmen didn't waste words.
Thauron rose slowly, his footfalls shaking the ground.
"You'll earn nothing here," he growled. "We are not dragons hiding in pride. Not elves lost in illusion. We do not kneel."
The audience roared their approval, pounding weapons and fists into the rock.
Shubh smiled.
"I hoped you'd say that."
Thauron didn't hesitate. With a snarl, he burst forward with speed that shattered the obsidian underfoot. Claws gleaming with ancient enchantments slashed through the air, fast enough to create vacuums. Shubh dodged narrowly, her tendrils lashing out to block and retaliate.
For a moment, the two blurred—chaos and instinct colliding.
But Thauron wasn't alone. As the duel began, the other Beast Kings roared and leapt into the arena, ignoring tradition, driven by bloodlust and a shared belief that no outsider should conquer them.
The Prime Den became a maelstrom of claws, fangs, and eldritch madness.
A tiger queen blurred into a streak of lightning, her stripes igniting with flame as she struck from above. A serpent-king, long and coiled, wrapped around Shubh's tendrils, trying to constrict her.
But they underestimated her.
Shubh laughed—truly, maniacally—as she expanded, her form warping into something greater. One eye opened on her chest, then another on her stomach. Dozens of void-mouths screamed open from her limbs, devouring incoming attacks and spitting corrupted energy that turned earth to black glass.
Still, the beastmen pressed on.
Then, Thauron roared.
A roar that broke the air and silenced everything.
And he transformed.
He grew taller—hulking, monstrous. His mane became fire. His claws became blades of aura. His voice became thunder. This was not a transformation of vanity—this was war incarnate. A true Beast King War Form.
One by one, the others followed.
From the eagle-king's blazing feathers to the bear-queen's mountain-sized arms, each Beast King shed their humanoid limits, sacrificing time off their lives to defend their land.
The arena quaked.
But Shubh... laughed louder.
"Good," she whispered. "Make it worth it."
What followed was a battle of legendary proportions.
Each strike of Thauron sent shockwaves that crumbled cliffs. Each swipe from Shubh's tendrils ripped open the sky. One of her void-mouths devoured the serpent-king whole. She redirected the eagle's windstorm into a spiraling black vortex, exploding mid-air.
Eventually, it was just her and Thauron, both bloodied, both damaged—he breathing heavily, she with torn wings.
But he was slowing.
His war form… was fading.
"You'll die here," he spat, bloodied maw snarling.
"No," she replied, voice echoing across the den. "You'll serve."
She unleashed her core—an ancient glyph of madness spinning behind her, warping gravity and time. Her voice filled the minds of every beastman present, and even those hundreds of miles away.
"Your strength belongs to my Master. Submit… or vanish from history."
As Shubh's proclamation echoed across the Prime Den, the atmosphere grew taut with defiance. The Beast Kings, embodiments of their tribes' primal might, exchanged resolute glances. The air vibrated with their collective decision: they would embrace their War Forms, channeling their very essence into a final, unyielding stand.
The Transformation: Embracing the War Forms
One by one, the Beast Kings began their metamorphosis. Thauron, the lion sovereign, let out a thunderous roar that resonated through the mountains. His form expanded, muscles rippling beneath a mane that blazed like a golden inferno. His eyes, now molten gold, reflected unwavering determination.
Beside him, Seraphina, the eagle queen, spread her wings wide. Feathers elongated into radiant plumes, each shimmering with ethereal light. Her talons sharpened, and her gaze became piercing, embodying the sky's relentless vigilance.
Across the arena, other monarchs underwent similar transformations:
Gorrath, the bear king, whose form became a living mountain of fur and sinew, each movement causing the ground to tremble.
Sylas, the serpent lord, elongating into a serpentine titan, scales gleaming with iridescent menace.
Velrika, the tigress empress, her stripes igniting into patterns of molten lava, eyes burning with fierce resolve.
These War Forms, though immensely powerful, exacted a heavy toll, consuming their life force with each passing moment. Yet, faced with the choice between subjugation and obliteration, they chose to fight with every ounce of their being.
Thauron initiated the assault, covering the distance between himself and Shubh in a heartbeat. His claws, now elongated scimitars, sliced through the air with lethal precision. Shubh parried with her tendrils, each collision producing shockwaves that shattered the obsidian ground beneath them.
Seraphina took to the skies, her wings generating gusts that morphed into razor-sharp gales aimed at Shubh. Velrika maneuvered with feline grace, seeking vulnerabilities, while Gorrath's massive fists pummeled the earth, sending fissures racing toward their adversary.
Surrounded, Shubh's form began to shift. Her eldritch energy coalesced, birthing additional appendages that writhed with chaotic intent. Eyes manifested across her body, each glowing with malevolent insight, anticipating and countering the Beast Kings' coordinated strikes.
She retaliated by summoning voids that consumed the very essence of the surroundings, attempting to siphon the life force from her attackers. Yet, the Beast Kings' resolve rendered them resistant to such assaults, their unity forming an impenetrable bulwark against her dark arts.
The Prime Den transformed into a maelstrom of destruction. Lightning, fire, and shadow intermingled, painting the sky with chaotic hues. The very fabric of reality seemed to waver under the intensity of the conflict.
Despite her formidable power, Shubh found herself ensnared by the Beast Kings' relentless tactics. Sylas coiled around her limbs, restricting movement, while Gorrath's seismic assaults destabilized her footing. Seraphina's aerial strikes diverted her focus, allowing Velrika and Thauron to deliver punishing blows.
