Chapter 61 Achieve Your Life’s Ambition #3
But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more—needed more. A display of power so overwhelming that resistance would become unthinkable. Something to cement my victory in the minds of all who witnessed it.
And something to command the attention of every enemy on the field, for any reserves to be called in.
Thorne had diligently collected the bones from the outpost—the remains of Auremar’s soldiers who had fallen to our initial assault. It was time to use them.
The Bone Behemoth. A creation I’d been working toward for months, a fusion of necromancy and dominion magic that would create a monster of unprecedented power.
I’d attempted it once before, at Skyspire, but the strain had been too great.
Now, with the Heirloom’s power flowing through me, I could finally bring it to life.
I found a relatively clear space on the battlefield and knelt, placing my hands on the ground. The earth responded to my touch, a tremor running through it as my magic sank deep. I called to the bones buried in the supply wagons at the rear of our lines, feeling them respond to my summons.
They came in a macabre rain, femurs and skulls and rib cages arcing through the air to land in a growing pile before me. Auremar’s soldiers watched in horror, some breaking ranks and fleeing at the sight. Even my own troops gave the area a wide berth, their expressions a mix of awe and fear.
The voice in my head grew to a roar, drowning out all other thought.
Create! Destroy! Show them the true meaning of power!
I began the incantation, ancient words flowing from my lips as if I’d known them all my life. The runes carved into my bones flared with pain, but I welcomed it, channeling it into the spell. The bones before me began to shift and merge, joining together in unnatural configurations.
A skull the size of a wagon wheel formed from many, surrounded by a crown of individual skulls. Rib cages fused into a massive torso, while femurs and tibias created limbs as thick as tree trunks. Smaller bones filled in the gaps, creating a skeletal monstrosity that towered over the battlefield.
The magic required was immense, draining me even with the Heirloom’s power to draw upon.
Sweat poured down my face, and my vision blurred with the effort.
But I pushed on, driven by a need that transcended mere strategy.
This wasn’t just about winning a battle—it was about proving something to myself, to Auremar, to the world.
That I, Kazimir Blackrose, was unstoppable.
The final words of the spell left my lips, and for a moment, nothing happened. The massive skeleton remained motionless, a grotesque monument to death.
Then, slowly, it began to move. First a finger, then a hand, then an arm. The skull swiveled, empty eye sockets somehow fixing on me with an attentive gaze. It rose to its full height, easily twenty feet tall, a behemoth of bone and dark magic.
“Serve,” I commanded, my voice hoarse from the strain of the spell.
The Bone Behemoth inclined its massive head in acknowledgment, then turned toward the enemy lines. With a roar that seemed to come from the depths of the earth itself, it charged, each step shaking the ground.
Auremar’s lines broke, their discipline shattering at the sight of the monstrous creation bearing down on them. Some stood their ground, firing arrows or hurling spells that bounced harmlessly off the behemoth’s skeletal frame. Others fled, throwing down their weapons in their haste to escape.
The behemoth tore through their ranks, massive hands sweeping soldiers aside like toys. It was a scene from a nightmare, a display of power and horror that would be remembered for generations.
And at the center of it all, directing the chaos, stood me—Kazimir Blackrose, Dark Lord, conqueror of Solandris.
The voice in my head laughed, a sound of pure, malevolent joy.
This is your destiny.
This felt right—this unleashing of power, this conquest. As if I were reclaiming something that had always been mine.
I watched as my forces surged forward, following in the behemoth’s wake. The path to the capital lay open, Auremar’s army in disarray. Victory was within my grasp.
But even as I reveled in the triumph, a part of me remained focused on the true objective. Arabella, Thorne, and Sebastian would be in the palace by now, searching for the prisoners. Their success or failure would determine the fate of the ley lines, of the Shadow King’s prison—of the world itself.
I hoped Arabella was faring better than the soldiers facing my behemoth. I hoped she was safe, that Sebastian was proving his worth as an ally. I hoped that when this was over, I would have the chance to tell her everything I’d been holding back.
That despite the darkness within me and the voice that whispered of destruction, I loved her. And that love was the one thing the Shadow King couldn’t claim.
I raised my hand, signaling the advance. My troops surged forward, and I moved with them, shadows forming giant leathery wings behind me.
The Bone Behemoth roared again, a sound of triumph and hunger. I echoed it with a laugh of my own, embracing the darkness that had always been part of me.
Kazimir Blackrose had come to claim his throne.