Evil King’s POV…

The moon screamed.

Not in sound—but in color.

Perfect night to take over the world and become king of all the world.

It split the sky with a wound of crimson, bleeding light across the heavens as the first sigil ignited beneath my feet. The mountain trembled, ancient stone groaning like a dying beast. I inhaled deeply, savoring the taste of it—fear, power, inevitability.

At last.

The ritual had begun.

I raised my arms, and the runes carved into my ...