34—The King's Day
The Great Demon Hyena's breath came in ragged growls. Its once-glowing crimson eyes flickered in panic. Deep gashes oozed black blood down its flanks, staining the earth. Its claws scraped against stone as it backed away from the figure before it — the shadow wearing Peterson's body.
The Midnight King didn't give chase. At least Not yet. He twirled the massive scythe in his hand with fluid grace, the blade catching what little light the Loa's Wild Zone had to offer. His red eyes never blinked. He was patient. Hunting was an art for him.
The Great Demon Hyena suddenly spun and bolted running away, fearing for its life as it can see this a battle that is way out of its league.
That was a mistake.
In less than a heartbeat, the Midnight King was gone from where he stood, the ground cracking from the force of his step. He reappeared in front of the fleeing beast, scythe already in motion. The curved blade tore through flesh, muscle, and bone in a single brutal sweep.
The beast shrieked in agony, stumbling as one of its front legs was severed. It collapsed onto its side, claws digging into the dirt in desperation.
The Midnight King didn't give it the mercy of a clean death. He stepped forward, each movement deliberate, dragging the tip of his scythe along the ground. Sparks hissed under the blade.
The Great Demon Hyena snarled weakly, trying to stand, but its body was failing.
"You tried to Run? From me?" The Midnight King's voice was deep, layered, carrying a cold amusement that made the air colder. "You were already dead the moment I was summoned in this body."
He brought the scythe down. Once. Twice. Three times. Each strike painted the ground in black gore until the beast's body was unrecognizable.
The forest went silent. No more snarls. No more movement. The frenzy of the other hyenas had ended the instant their leader died, their corpses lying in twisted piles across the den.
The Midnight King straightened, resting the scythe on his shoulder. His coat swayed in the unnatural breeze that seemed to follow him everywhere.
Behind him, Lili stood frozen, her katana still in her grip but trembling. She'd fought beside Peterson earlier, but this… this wasn't him. The aura rolling off this figure felt ancient, suffocating — like the very shadows were watching her.
She swallowed hard. "P-Peterson…?"
The Midnight King slowly turned to face her, his glowing red eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, her body screamed at her to run.
Then he spoke. "You don't need to be afraid, girl. If I wanted you dead, you'd have never heard my voice."
His tone was calm, almost polite, but it carried a weight that left no doubt — he was not making a threat. He was simply stating fact.
Lili's grip on her sword eased, but her stance remained cautious. "You're… not him, are you?"
A faint smirk tugged at the King's lips. "Not quite. But I will be… in a way. For the next day, his body is mine for 24 hours. Your friend is still here, deep inside. Think of it as… a temporary lease."
Before she could reply, the shadow around his form began to unravel. His height shrank, the hat melted into nothing, the scythe dissolved into black mist. In seconds, Peterson stood where the King had been — same dark skin, same faint Veve glow, same tired grin.
Only the red flicker deep in his eyes betrayed that it was still the Midnight King speaking.
"Is that Better?" he asked.
Lili lowered her sword completely but didn't step closer. "Not really. You still feel… wrong."
He chuckled. "Good. It means your instincts work. Keep them sharp like that — you'll need them. Because if what I suspect is true, Peterson and your little group are already on the Zobop clan's watch list."
Lili's jaw tightened. "I already know. That's why I'm here — to help him and his friends get stronger."
"Then you and I have a common goal," the King said. He raised his hand, summoning a skeleton warrior from the black mist. It knelt before him, bones rattling softly.
The King placed his palm on its skull. Slowly, flesh knitted over bone, muscle wrapping around, skin forming until it was no longer a skeleton at all — but an exact copy of Peterson, down to the smallest detail.
Lili's eyes widened. "That's… disturbing."
"This," the King said, gesturing to the duplicate, "is your solution. Take him back to Peterson's home. Let his family see him. He'll act and speak like Peterson well enough that they won't question it."
She glanced between the real-not-real Peterson and the King. "And the real one?"
"I have business in the Loa's world," the King replied, turning away. "Important business. You will come back here tomorrow night, same time. I will return the boy to you then."
His form began to dissolve again, shadows peeling away from him like strips of smoke.
"Wait—what business?" she called after him.
The King didn't answer. He simply vanished into the darkness, leaving the fake Peterson standing silently beside her.
Lili took a deep breath, sheathing her sword. "This is gonna be one hell of a story to explain to the real you when you come back…"
—
Far from the hyena den, atop a mountain that seemed to pierce the sky, a shadow stood against the wind. Below lay a vast settlement surrounded by a towering wall. Every building was painted black, each one glowing with faint blue light from runes carved into their walls. The streets wound like veins toward the heart of the settlement.
At its center loomed a colossal castle — also black, but without a single light. It rose like a jagged tooth against the dark horizon, ominous and silent.
The shadow's lips curled into a slow smile.
"Home sweet home," he murmured. "Here I come."
The wind carried the words into the night as he began his descent.
To be continued…