i don't need a costume (cuz i'm already a freak)

short temper, long shovel (come and dig your fuckin' grave)

Jin-Woo made it to the 90th floor in record time, spurned on by the long-burning rage that glowed hotter and hotter in his heart the more he thought about that bastard Demon King. In the back of his mind, he registered the odd sense of detachment he could feel, right alongside the rage, like his feelings weren’t his. 

Oh, that’s right. Ashborne said we became one and the same that day. This must be his lingering soul within me reacting to this place.  

Stowing his daggers, he huffed fondly, looking somewhere off into the distance. “If it’s revenge you want, Ashborne, I’ll give it to you. It’s the least I can do after all your gifts.” 

His words were soft, but the weight they held was heavy, carrying his promise to Ashborne beyond the distance between them. If Ashborne heard him somehow, he hoped this was enough for now. He’d right every wrong done to his predecessor, starting with this fragment of the piece of shit Monarch of the Rising Dawn. 

“Let’s turn this place into a true Hell,” he said, turning to the shadows awaiting his orders. 

“At your command, your grace.” One of the Orcs bowed before heading off in one direction. Each group followed suit, disappearing off in different directions. 

 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
 

“Esil,” the tall Monarch greeted. 

“How do you know my name?” The demoness removed the helm covering her face, brows furrowed. “Speak, intruder.” 

“Someone told me.” 

“Who?” 

Jin-Woo couldn’t help but pity this poor demoness, knowing she was long dead but not wholly, a small part of her forced to live this moment out over and over again. He shrugged off her question, content with leaving her none the wiser. 

“An old friend,” came his cryptic reply. 

 
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

When he made it to the 100th floor, he didn’t even give the Demon King time to hang back and observe Jin-Woo. The fury burning within him pushed his abilities to the max, leaving the demonic figment fumbling and staggering under the ruthless onslaught. 

His shadows took no prisoners, either. Demons were massacred easily and neither God nor his army showed signs of tiring soon; Esil watched with horrified awe as Jin-Woo dominated the other Monarch so wholly, so easily. The Monarch she grew up serving, Baran, had never looked so small before, here on the 100th floor where he’d once ruled without question from those below. Now he was the one below, and Esil couldn’t help but be viciously joyful as she watched his fall, all the bitterness built up over the centuries towards the cruel Monarch spilling over. 

Esil soon found herself cheering for the intruder, finding his ruthlessness and decisive cruelty charming, watching with wide eyes as he overwhelmed Baran without breaking a sweat. 

“He’s so strong, how is this possible?” 

“He is the strongest Monarch,” a voice said behind her matter-of-factly. Esil turned to see a shadow direwolf watching the scene of carnage and bloodlust intensely. 

“Who are you? Please do not take my words as rude or hostile, I just do not recognise you.” 

“I am Dae. I am one of His Majesty’s hounds. I have been tasked with protecting you as His Majesty’s thank you for your clan’s cooperation.” The wolf spoke only as much as necessary, taking his guard duty seriously.