RIGEL V
The Earl of Suncrest sneered at Rigel, his countenance contorted in a grotesque mask of contempt, the air, heavy with malevolent intent.
"Have you any piece of evidence?" Rigel inquired, his voice a gentle breeze that carried the weight of wisdom.
Alioth's visage darkened, his eyes blazing with a fierce ire that seemed to sear the very air around him.
"My orders are unequivocal, straight out the Throne-room of Lunarfrost," he spat, his voice a venomous hiss, dripping with malice.
"You shall come with me."
Rigel's hand slipped from Regulus' shoulders to his little arm, a protective gesture that shielded the young kinglet from the gathering storm.
"Great mourning saturates this city," Alioth announced, his voice a mournful dirge that echoed through the park.
"His Majesty's daughter has been kidnapped."
Regulus' eyes widened in dismay, his face pale with a fear that froze his blood.
"Polaris!" he gasped in bewilderment.
Alioth's expression turned grim, his eyes flashing with a cold calculation that weighed the souls of those around him.
"Indeed," he affirmed, his Beta, Aniara, glinting at Rigel with a mixture of curiosity and hostility.
Aniara, a warrior maiden of unyielding ferocity, adorned with low-cut hair that shone like gold in the dawning light, and sensual tattoos that shimmered with a life of their own.
The eyes of the Earl narrowed, his gaze scrutinizing Rigel with a cold intensity, piercing the armor of his soul.
"You shall not lay a finger on him," Rigel cautioned softly, his hand on the hilt of his glaive, a gentle reminder of the power that lay at his command.
Alioth chuckled, a cold, mirthless sound, reverberating through nature.
"We shall see," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
With a wave of his hand, the Vulcan King signaled his guards to attack.
The swarm of riders charged at the young princes, their swords drawn, their faces twisted with a fierce battle lust.
Yet, Rigel moved with a speed and precision beyond the supernatural, his glaive flashing in the sunlight like a shard of pure starlight.
He teleported here and there, intercepting blades and bashing skulls with a deadly efficiency that left his foes bewildered and broken.
Once he found an opening, he signaled for Regulus to make his escape, deep into the woods.
"Follow him!" Aniara and her men vehemently chased after the kinglet, their horses' hooves pounding the earth with a rhythmic intensity, quaking the foundations of the woods.
Meanwhile, the Telepathic Nightmare was locked in a dance of blades at the rowdy parks of Omensworth.
Like mere playthings, he defeated the innumerable company of skilled paragons who had ambushed him.
They all wriggled and moaned in excruciating pain, wiping their bloody nostrils with a desperate urgency that underscored the hopelessness of their plight.
With all his men humiliatingly defeated, the Vulcan King spat in disappointment.
"Even Monarchs too must get their hands messy, should they desire to conquer," he muttered beneath his breath, unsheathing his great battle-axe with a slow, deliberate movement that portrayed the gravity of his intent.
The sheer magnitude of Alioth's weaponry bore a crushing weight, forged from terrestrial rocks that held the essence of space within its ancient, weathered heart.
How uncanny his unbridled power and physical strength to wield a blade of such gigantism.
The great rhino of the Vulcan King exhaled with fury, steams oozing from its turgid nostrils like a chimney as it dug the loams with its impeccable forefoot, a gesture of unyielding ferocity that revealed the true savagery of the varmint.
He started at the Prince of Aethoria, mounted on his mysteriously humongous steed, the pounding stomps quaking the ground, leaving deep craters of lava, glowing with an inner fire that depicted the fury of the beast.
Alioth swung his battle axe at Rigel with an unbridled destructive force, a blow that carried the weight of the world within its crushing trajectory.
However, the Telepathic Nightmare teleported away in an impalpable hazy blue hue, fading into daylight, a maneuver of unyielding swiftness that defied the laws of gravity.
He reappeared at the alternate distant end, facing Alioth, adjacently; the hem of his dark hood fluttering in the mild breeze like a dark wingspan, illustrating the mystery of his presence.
Rigel's glare was stingingly cold, the biohazard flares ignited in his eyes with swirling precision, a testament to the amusing ferocity that lay at the heart of his being.
Easily, he could hypnotize the Vulcan King with his Telepathic prowess, but Alioth came prepared for this battle.
His steel rhino-shaped helm obstructed Rigel's Telepathic waves, a clever stratagem that underscored the cunning of the monarch.
Swiftly, the shrewd prince calculated the distance from Alioth, as well as his pace, a mental arithmetic of baffling complexity that surpassed the limits of human comprehension.
A grave risk, indeed, should he teleport himself to the Earl of the Empire of the Sun in order to knock off his visor.
One little slip, one small miscalculation, and he would be squashed by the Monarch's powerful grip, a fate of unfolding horrors, exposing the peril of his quest.
With all of that in consideration, Rigel improvised, a masterful stroke of genius, redefining the essence of reality.
He summoned Ain, his loyal varmint, from the bushes, a silvery flash of gigantism that gave away the savagery of the beast.
The stupendous silver vixen stunned Alioth with a pounce, shoving him down, a staggering blow of precision belying the limits of mortal strength.
The Vulcan King fell to the soil with a mighty thud, his steel rhino-shaped helm glinting in the sunlight like a dark, malevolent star.
As both varmints engaged in a catastrophic dance for supremacy, the entire park was engulfed in havoc, a maelstrom of looming chaos, engulfing the fury of the beasts.
Having been bested in strategy, combat arts, Hypo Kinesis and swordsmanship, Alioth turned to Geo-Thermo Kinesis as a last resort, a desperate stratagem of relentless complexity, defying the limits of human comprehension.
He waved his hands with slow rhythmic maneuvering, summoning seismic waves beneath ground level, a gesture of resolute power that triggered the planet's scorching core.
An infernal volcanic eruption immersed the vicinity, devouring the lovely lush greens in a chaotic inferno, a cataclysm of unyielding horrors, aggravating an unnatural disorder.
Rigel evaded the grande scale of destruction by teleporting out of harm's way, yet Alioth was relentless, a force of persistent havoc, questioning the limits of mortal endurance.
He evoked more havoc, spewing hatred in the form of ghastly eruptions, engulfing the land with unbridled madness, a maelstrom of turbulent chaos, revealing his unbridled fury and phobia of defeat.
The Telepathic Nightmare reappeared atop Mount Avarion, unscathed by the magmatic explosions, a gesture of unfathomable ferocity, laying at the heart of his intellect.
Yet, Alioth was uncannily swift for a man of such impeccable build, a masterful stroke of astonishing pace, redefining the essence of the supernatural.
He darted towards Rigel in a crimson flash, a mighty fist aimed at the unblemished face of the Prince of Aethoria, a blow of frightening precision that surpassed the limits of mortal strength.
Rigel narrowly evaded the fist attack, drifting backward in a hazy dash, a maneuver of god-like swiftness, whisking in a blurry haze.
Still, Alioth was persistent, a force of malovelent fury defying the excesses of mortal endurance.
He dived into Rigel's torso with a grapple, spearing him through a hill of snow, a thunderous blow, granulating rocks.
The two burst through three frosty hills in a split second, disrupting the peace of the snow mountains, raising them down to a blistering avalanche, a cataclysm of nonstop horrors, disrupting the peace of Osiris.
Yet, the Telepathic Nightmare was unscathed, for he had protected his frail body with the edge of his glaive, a masterful stroke of intellectual genius redefining the foundations of fascination.
Harnessing all the brute force in him, Alioth leaped in the air with a swing of sheer might.
The unbridled power was overwhelming, impossible to block.
Rigel resorted to his evasive Quantum technique, once more — teleportation.
He left a body flicker, a hazy silhouette of himself, impalpable as sifted cinnamon.
Alioth's axe severed the blurry image in two unequal halves, a demonstration of the damage he could cause Rigel should he let his guard down.
Both warlocks exchanged cold glares, a hundred meters apart.
Like searing rays of light, they stared at each other, again, both forces, quicker than mortal comprehension.
Their blades clanged with stinging cries, reverberating through the Milky Way, decimating hills and mountains of snow, alike, like mirrors of glass.
Yet, sprawling with the Telepath, only deprived one of cosmic power, and soon, the Vulcan King had exhausted all of the Quantum energy within his soul.
It would take an hour to replenish all that power, again.
Alioth would need to improvise, stick to his knowledge in the Osirian combat Arts in order to survive the battle with the Telepathic Nightmare.
This was the miscalculation Rigel had long ago anticipated.
The Aethorian Prince harnessed his psychic flares, unleashing a hail storm of flames.
He had been saving his signature skill for last — the Blaze of Seraphina.
Alioth managed to evade the storm of fire the first few times with his supersonic speed, yet Rigel had cornered him into a trap, like a game of chess.
"Checkmate!" he muttered beneath his breath as he focused his gaze on the darting Lord of Suncrest.
But murder wasn't an option for the prince yet, he would trick the Vulcan King into believing he desperately desired his blood, consuming him in fright.
And soon, Rigel's psychic flares engulfed Alioth's helm, on purpose.
The Lord of Suncrest uncrowned himself in a desperate effort to preserve his life from the unquenchable flames of Seraphina — the opening!
Rigel's Telepathic waves, unblocked, found their way into the frightful mind of the Magmatic Monarch.
Ensnared in a sudden hypnosis, Alioth fell to his knees, unconsciously, trapped in a labyrinthine dimension of illusions.
His eyes, also flaring with the biohazard symbol, reflected the horror that gripped his mind.
Rigel was granted absolute control of Alioth's mind, tormenting him with his unparalleled psychopathy.
Stuck in an apocalyptic realm, where thoughts influenced reality, the Vulcan King gasped as he staggered in fear, unaware of his dark surroundings.
Rigel teleported before him, brandishing his own baneful axe.
With two resolute slices, the telepath relieved the monarch of both arms, blood gushing irritatingly.
Alioth screamed in pain, tormented by the realistic hallucinations.
He wriggled like a worm on his bulgy belly, brutally severed, in a desperate attempt to flee from Rigel's monstrous silhouette engulfing the crimson skies of a dimension birthed from his imagination.
This was the ultimate Quantum technique of the Prince of Aethoria — "Chimera Phantasm".
The Vulcan King's mind was a maelstrom of terror, his thoughts consumed by the horrors that Rigel had unleashed upon him.
He was trapped in a realm of unending nightmare, tormented by the darkest fears of his own psyche.
Rigel's grip on Alioth's mind was unyielding, his control absolute.
He probed the depths of the Earl's consciousness, uncovering secrets and fears that had lain hidden for centuries.
The Telepathic Nightmare reveled in Alioth's terror, his own mind feeding on the fright that he had unleashed.
He was a master of mental combat, a weaver of phantasmagoric realities and a bringer of despair.
And yet, despite the depths of Alioth's terror, Rigel's own mind was not untouched by the horrors that he had unleashed.
He felt a creeping sense of dread, a growing unease, seeping into his soul.
For in the depths of Alioth's mind, the Telepath had uncovered a secret, a hidden truth that threatened to destroy everything that he had ever known.
The Vulcan King's mind was a labyrinth of secrets, and Rigel had stumbled into its darkest depths.
The Telepathic Nightmare recoiled in horror, his mind reeling from the implications of what he had discovered.
He knew that he had to escape, to flee from the darkness that lurked within Alioth's mind.
But it was too late. The secret had been uncovered, and Rigel's own mind was forever changed.
He was left to ponder the implications of what he had discovered, his thoughts consumed by the darkness lurking within the mind of the Earl of Suncrest.