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ARTHUR'S BASE -
The place was quiet, save for the low sounds of mechanisms pulsing behind the glass. A soft violet glow illuminated the observation deck, slick, fortified, a blend of steel and tech. Shadow Lex's upgraded arena below had evolved from its former crude function. Now it resembled a monument to battle sharpened and stronger than ever.
Arthur stood at the reinforced viewing panel, arms crossed, a statue of calm power. Beside him, Raven leaned forward slightly, arms folded beneath her cloak, her hood down. Her gaze was fixed on the two figures in the arena below.
"Why did she want to do this?" Raven asked, her voice soft, but the tension in her tone unmistakable.
Arthur's response came slow, almost amused.
"Isn't it obvious?" His lips curved, just faintly. "She wants to prove herself. To me. To him. To herself."
His eyes flared violet, casting reflections across the glass as he spoke, watching the arena below as if it were a stage and this, an inevitable act.
"She wants to prove she's stronger than him."
Raven glanced at him. "And is she?"
Arthur's smile faltered slightly, just for a second.
"...It's not going to be easy."
Below, the arena shifted. steel spires adjusted, violet energy thrummed through the ground, responding to the presence of its combatants.
Igris stood tall, black armor etched with violet glow, his crimson plume flowing behind him. His stance was measured, regal, yet predatory the stance of a knight who had seen eons of battle and learned to enjoy the silence before the kill.
He raised his Demon King Longsword in one hand, the massive blade crackling with arcs of blue lightning. The edge hummed with power, the ground beneath his boots surprisingly resisted the pressure of his presence.
His glowing eyes fixed on Galatea, and for a heartbeat, the arena held its breath.
"Are you ready," Igris said, voice low and commanding,"for the lesson?"
Galatea said nothing.
She was dressed for war, her desire for battle was all over her face, gauntlets flexing as she rolled her shoulders. She clenched her fists, and the very air rippled around her.
Up in the chamber, Raven murmured, "She's clearly angry."
Arthur didn't reply. He just smiled.
His eyes were locked on her, this woman who had been engineered to be better than Kara, now a General in his command facing a Marshal of the shadow legion. It wasn't just a spar. It was a challenge etched in pride and fire.
And Arthur, in the safety of the viewing panel, watched them with that same quiet intensity, the gears in his mind already turning.
Because even this was a test.
Of strength.
Of who could stand beside the Shadow Monarch...
Galatea launched herself forward with explosive speed, faster than sound. The arena floor dented a bit beneath her heel. She struck out with a blinding fist, but Igris parried with the flat of his blade. Sparks exploded in every direction. She spun, driving a kick toward his ribs. He stepped back just enough, the crimson plume of his helm trailing like a whisper of blood.
"Relying on brute force," Igris rumbled, voice deep, distorted by shadow and steel. "Either you refine it. Or fall."
Galatea snarled. "You don't get to lecture me."
She unleashed a torrent of heat vision twin beams of solar fire that lanced across the arena like celestial whips. Igris raised his sword and spun it with impossible speed, catching the heat head-on. The energy coiled around his blade and was flung skyward, crashing against the arena's reinforced ceiling with a thunderous boom but still, not a crack.
Arthur raised a brow. "Impressive."
Raven tilted her head, curious. "The knight or the engineer?"
Arthur gave a rare smirk. "Both. Arena's still holding. Shadow Lex really outdid himself this time."
Back in the arena, Galatea rocketed toward Igris again, raining a barrage of blows from every angle each one powerful enough to kill a lesser being. But Igris moved with an eerie elegance, his blade weaving a seamless defense. It was not speed. It was mastery. He did not block out of panic; he deflected with rhythm. Every clash.
Galatea snarled, eyes blazing. Her pride would not let her yield. She clasped both hands together and drove them down like a hammer. Igris raised his blade vertically, catching the strike, and the floor shuddered. A small crater formed beneath them, but the arena held.
She growled, voice raw with frustration. "Fight me properly!"
Igris surged forward suddenly, sword sweeping in a brutal arc. It clipped her side, sending her crashing into a wall. Smoke rose. Dust scattered. Galatea groaned, dragging herself up.
"You have strength," Igris said, his blade now aimed at her chest. "But you do not yet understand what it means to wield it. It's too soon for you to fight me, General Galatea."
Galatea, breathing heavy. "Then teach me, Tinpot."
She flew again.
And the arena roared.
Up above, Arthur watched, eyes glowing faintly violet.
"She's not backing down at all."
Raven, arms folded, replied, "She seems a bit different compared to the rest of your shadow soldiers.."
Arthur nodded slightly, "Indeed... a little bit too hot-headed." eyes flicking between the figures below one formerly forged in a lab, desperate to prove her worth. The other, his loyal Marshal, a knight that only knew battles and wars.
The tempo shifted.
Galatea's movements turned feral fluid with desperation, but sharpened by instinct. She feinted left, then shot right with a blur of speed, crashing into Igris' guard with a vicious uppercut. The force lifted the knight off his feet, shadows splintering around his armor as he flew backward and landed hard against the floor.
Raven's eyes widened behind the glass.
Arthur tilted his head, arms still folded. "She landed one hit, not bad."
Galatea floated above the grounded knight, chest rising with exertion, a cocky grin tugging at her bruised lips. "How about that?" she said, exhaling with fire and pride.
The arena fell into a moment of silence.
And then, shadows erupted.
Igris rose, not with a stagger, but with wrath.
His helm turned toward her, violet eyes glowing brighter than ever before, and the ground beneath his boots cracked from the surge of pressure he released. No words or warnings.
He moved.
In an instant, he was upon her, blade flashing a blur of dark steel and fury. His gauntlet grabbed her by the throat mid-air, slamming her down with thunderous impact. Before her body could even bounce, he spun, twisted and with terrifying precision snapped her in half at the waist, tearing her apart like paper.
Raven gasped. Even Arthur blinked.
And yet…
Galatea's torso hit the ground, followed by her legs, and already her shadow had begun mending. Shadow muscle knit with muscle, sliding back together, restored completely regenerating.
She coughed, breathless, "Son of a..."
"Enough," Arthur said, his voice cutting through the arena.
Igris stopped. Immediately. His sword reversed in his hand as he stepped back, in one smooth motion.
Galatea, whole again, on her knees looked down, eyes narrowed.
Igris extended a hand toward her.
Her pride paused.
Then she accepted it.
He helped her to her feet, not as a victor to a loser, but as one warrior to another.
"My liege," Igris said as Arthur descended into the arena, his presence casting long shadows.
Galatea knelt beside Igris without hesitation.
Arthur stopped before them. "You both did well," he said, his voice firm yet satisfied. "Galatea… are you satisfied now?"
Before she could respond, Igris spoke, his helm slightly bowed. "If you allow me, my liege… I'll take responsibility for training the generals myself."
Arthur raised a brow.
"She's powerful," Igris continued. "With time, and precision, she will become something far greater. When the day comes and she is a Marshal, I will welcome her as an equal. And I'll gladly spar again."
Galatea blinked. The compliment caught her off-guard. For the first time in a long time, she genuinely smiled.
"Thank you, Marshal Igris," she said, genuine and low.
Behind Arthur, Raven muttered, "Well… didn't see that coming."
Arthur laughed, a deep, warm sound that echoed in the quiet aftermath.
"Perfect then," he said. "It's settled."
He turned to Galatea, his eyes teasing.
"You had me worried for a second that you two wouldn't get along."
Then, more to himself than anyone, Arthur's gaze drifted sideways, thoughtful and distant.
'After all… I know a certain soon-to-be shadow soldier who'd be far more troublesome to get along with…'
/-\
If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Solo leveling in Westeros.
&
If you wish to read more or simply support me than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/FrenzyAren"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want