If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Solo leveling in Westeros.
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/-\
A voice echoed , inside Neron's mind itself.
"I shall provide you with my support, child."
Neron's eyes widened.
"…First Mother?" he whispered.
The air around him thickened.
Shadows, not Arthur's, began crawling across Neron's skin. They weren't green or black.
They were crimson red.
Like blood.
They wrapped around his arms, his chest, his wings, seeping into him rather than covering him.
Neron gasped.
In pain.
The spear trembled as his body arched unnaturally, veins glowing beneath his skin like cracks in cooling lava.
"W-wait!" he choked.
The shadows forced his wings outward violently, stretching them to their full span as if testing the limits of his flesh.
His voice distorted.
Layered.
Something else began speaking through him, overlapping his own tone.
Arthur's violet eyes narrowed.
"What is going on with him…"
Neron clawed at his own chest as the crimson presence sank deeper, overriding the green fire with something older.
Far more ancient magic.
The pain was visible now and too real.
His jaw clenched so hard cracks formed in his jagged teeth.
"I did not, ask for..." he snarled, trying to push back.
The presence answered with silence.
Then control.
His posture straightened abruptly.
Too abruptly.
His head tilted at an unnatural angle as his eyes turned crimson red completely.
The green flames dimmed.
Replaced by something darker.
Arthur slowly extended his hand.
The spear ripped free from Neron's body and returned to him.
He did not attack again.
Not yet.
Because this
Was no longer just Neron.
His body hovered unnaturally still, wings spread wide as though strung up on invisible hooks.
Arthur remained suspended opposite him, spear angled downward at his side, violet lightning pulsing through it.
His eyes glowed brighter.
"Who are you," he asked evenly, "and why are you wearing his body?"
For a moment, there was only the wind.
Then Neron's head tilted back
And laughter spilled out.
Too deep compared to his earlier voice.
It vibrated through the air.
"Child," the voice said, amusement thick within it, "do you truly believe Neron was the Lord of Hell?"
Arthur's expression did not change.
"That much," he replied calmly, "was clear to me the moment I stepped foot in this realm, so you are that 'other presence'.."
He raised the spear slightly.
"I'm no fool. So I'll ask again. Who are you?"
Neron's body lowered its head slowly, eyes now entirely black. Not pupil. Just void.
"You stand within a kingdom whose foundations predate your shadows, Monarch," the entity said softly. "And you assume the one seated upon its throne was sovereign? Even Lucifer simply took the reins, this place has no true ruler... it was never meant to be ruled by one entity."
Arthur's cloak shifted in the wind.
"Titles are irrelevant to me, also get to the point."
A pause.
"What is your goal here?"
The smile that stretched across Neron's face was not his own.
Sharp.
"That," the voice replied, almost pleasantly, "we shall discuss… if you survive this."
Arthur's grip on the spear tightened slightly.
"My survival is not in question, yours however..."
The entity chuckled again.
"Confidence. A trait I admire.. Something this idiot lacked..."
Neron's body flexed once, pain rippling visibly through muscle and bone as the presence settled deeper inside him.
"First," the voice continued, tone turning colder, "let me use this idiot one last time."
Arthur's eyes narrowed a fraction.
"You know it'll take me a minute to find you," he said evenly. "Whoever you might be."
The black eyes locked onto his.
"I am counting on that."
The entity's voice softened, dangerously so.
"What you seek goes against what I desire, Shadow Lord."
Arthur's expression sharpened.
"And what is it you believe I seek?"
"Restoration," the presence answered. "Order and balance imposed upon realms that thrive in chaos."
"You are not here merely to kill a demon or two. You are here to restructure the dominion of this realm. In other words, what I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't be here, this isn't Heaven."
Arthur did not deny it.
The silence between them was answer enough.
The entity's smile widened.
"Besides I'm preparing something great for both the living and those in the silver city, and with you being here... that conflicts with my will."
Green veins of power briefly flared beneath Neron's skin as the body struggled.
A flicker of the real Neron surfaced.. rage, humiliation, fury.
Then was crushed again beneath the weight of the intruder.
Arthur's voice lowered.
"You're afraid of me."
The laughter that followed was softer now.
Amused.
"Fear is for mortals my child. I've long forgotten what that means."
The black eyes gleamed.
"The fool's soul," the entity added almost casually. "You may have it back. I have no interest in keeping it, especially since all of you are doomed anyways."
Arthur's gaze hardened.
"You speak as though you own it and not Neron."
"In this realm?" the voice replied smoothly. "Contracts and ownership of souls are fluid."
The sky above them cracked from the pressure building.
Arthur raised the spear into a ready stance, violet lightning intensifying.
"Last chance," he said.
"Name."
The entity regarded him for a long moment.
Then
"No."
"I prefer privacy."
Neron's body convulsed once, wings snapping outward violently as black energy erupted from his chest in spiraling tendrils.
The void within his eyes deepened further, swallowing what remained of his green flames.
"I am sure you will find me," the voice said, almost warmly.
"Shadow Lord."
Arthur's aura expanded in response, darkness pouring outward in controlled waves.
The spear glowed.
"You're right," Arthur replied quietly.
"And it won't take long."
The possessed body smiled once more.
Arthur faced him in silence.
The difference was clear now.
Neron's stance had changed.
Gone was the disciplined balance, the aggression. His movements were sharper but erratic, like a blade swung by something that did not care if it broke in the process.
Arthur adjusted his grip on the spear.
Behind his eyes, calculations moved faster than the battle itself.
He wasn't just fighting.
He was searching and tracking.
Following the subtle tether between puppet and puppeteer.
"Careful, Shadow lord," the layered voice mocked from Neron's mouth. "You divide your focus."
Arthur's eyes did not leave him.
"I don't need all of it for you."
Neron's lips stretched wider than they should.
Then he moved.
Downward.
He ripped his own palm across his chest, claws tearing through flesh without hesitation. Blood spilled, but it did not fall.
Thick and dark.
Then it ignited.
The blood twisted into symbols midair, ancient and writhing. The sky turned red as those sigils multiplied, forming a rotating halo of crimson-black script around him.
Arthur felt it immediately.
Blood magic, old and cruel.
The sigils detonated outward in a storm of needle-like shards, each one flew carrying a curse designed not merely to wound.
Arthur spun his spear.
Violet lightning erupted outward in a spiraling barrier, shredding most of the projectiles to ash. But the possessed Neron was already inside the storm
Too fast.
A claw wrapped in blackened blood energy tore across Arthur's left arm before he could fully pivot.
Fabric split.
Skin opened.
Dark magic hissed against his flesh.
Arthur's jaw tightened.
The corrupted energy tried to burrow inward.
Neron leaned close, whispering through blood-stained teeth.
"Feel that? So, you do bleed after all."
Arthur's eyes flared brighter.
He retaliated instantly.
His spear vanished from his hand.
And reappeared in a tight, brutal arc.
The blade severed Neron's arm cleanly at the shoulder.
There was no dramatic pause.
The limb separated, and from the stump erupted not blood
But complete void.
A roaring, spiraling vortex of black energy exploded outward, consuming the severed arm mid-fall and expanding violently.
The vortex widened, twisting like a newborn singularity. Debris from the shattered tower, broken stone, fragments of infernal architecture all were dragged inward. The air itself bent around it like black hole.
Even distant spires began to crack as gravitational force warped the skyline of Dis.
Arthur hovered before it.
Unmoved.
His cloak rippled but his body remained perfectly still.
The cut on his arm smoked faintly as shadow energy purged the invading corruption.
He studied the vortex, eyes narrowing.
"…This is a very dark type of magic," he murmured to himself.
"Even by demon standards."
Within the vortex, Neron's body trembled, the severed limb did not regenerate. Instead, black tendrils extended from the wound, connecting him directly to the swirling abyss as though feeding it.
The possessing entity spoke again, voice strained but amused.
"You see it now."
Arthur's gaze sharpened.
"I see a parasite."
The vortex intensified.
From within it, shapes began to form, distorted silhouettes made of blood and shadow. They clawed their way outward, shrieking without sound.
Arthur exhaled slowly.
He could feel it now.
The tether.
Thin.
Far below the surface of Hell.
Whoever was controlling this wasn't near.
Using Neron as a conduit.
Or merely a distraction.
The possessed body attacked again, ignoring the missing arm entirely. A blade of condensed blood extended from the remaining hand, slicing downward in a crescent meant to bisect Arthur.
Arthur stepped into it.
He let the blade skim his side, not deep enough to matter.
And drove his fist into Neron's sternum.
The impact detonated like a bomb.
Ribs shattered inward. Black energy splintered across the sky. The vortex wavered violently.
Neron's head snapped back, but the voice still laughed through broken teeth.
Arthur followed through.
An elbow to the jaw.
A knee to the abdomen.
He caught Neron by the throat and hurled him directly into his own vortex.
The sky ruptured as the body struck the center of the singularity.
For a moment
Everything froze.
Then Arthur extended his hand.
The spear answered.
It streaked forward in a bolt of violet judgment, piercing through Neron's torso once more and pinning him within the heart of the swirling abyss.
The vortex screamed.
Cracks of violet lightning tore through its structure, destabilizing the gravitational pull.
Arthur hovered there, eyes cold as he watched Neron's body tremble against forces too immense for him.
"This isn't a battle anymore," he said quietly to himself.
The possessing entity strained against him, trying to force more power through the dying vessel.
But the body was failing.
Breaking and burning from the inside.
Arthur's gaze hardened.
"At this point…"
He lifted his hand slightly.
The spear twisted.
Energy surged.
"…killing him is an act of mercy."
The vortex fractured.
"How lucky for him."
With a final tightening of his will, Ruler's Authority crushed inward.
The vortex imploded.
The sky snapped back into place with a deafening shockwave that rippled across all of Dis.
When the dust and darkness settled.
Arthur remained hovering alone.
Neron's body hung limp on the spear for a brief, silent second.
Then went completely still.
Only the faintest trace of that dark tether remained.
Thin and retreating.
Arthur closed his wounded hand slowly, shadow energy sealing the last of the damage.
His eyes lifted toward the distant, unseen anchor point.
"You're next," he said quietly into the trembling sky.
/-\
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