so i know that a lot of minecraft kings/mad king ryan aus will make mogar ryan’s loyal warrior and whatnot, but what if that translates to dark god!ryan as well?
nightofstarfallanddreams replied to your post “so i know that a lot of minecraft kings/mad king ryan aus will make...”
So like can we expect a fic of mad king turning into dark god and just eliminates mogar?
Hell hath no fury, one had to think. Months after the Mad King was run out of his own kingdom, escaping with his broken crown and Mogar on his tail, he had returned to exact revenge on the kingdom that tried to force him out. He did not return a man, no, but a full fledged God. One that would reign with darkness and passion.
His warrior, loyal follower, the human who had unquestioningly followed him through the wilderness and his crazed plans to become immortal, walked close beside him, hand on the hilt of his sword as usual. Admittedly, Mogar had no need for it anymore - Ryan knocked down villagers, soldiers, all those traitors alike with a flick of fingers, and crushed them all with the squeeze of his fist, until all that was left were the blood-spattered buildings of a nation he once ruled.
His castle stood tall and proud, the sweet smell of death and metallic tang of blood in the air. Mogar opened the doors for him, and he passed through into the throne room. The banners had changed, and now he and Mogar were the only ones left but it was still his.
“I didn’t expect it to be so easy,” Mogar supplied, examining the throne room’s walls as Ryan made himself comfortable on his throne, adjusting the rusted, broken crown on his head.
“Did you doubt me?”
“Of course not. I overestimated the humans, is all.” Mogar pressed a loose stone of the wall, peering inside the room that appeared with a slow slide of rock. “They have their wine here, I see.”
“Saving it for a celebration?”
Mogar shot him a grin. “We have plenty to celebrate now, don’t you think?” A moment later, the warrior returned, two goblets full of dark wine. He bowed before the throne, just like in days gone by where he would rush in to give Ryan a status report, or tell him of a mission’s success. “The old king is dead, long live the Dark God,” He handed Ryan a goblet, downing his own in a swallow. Ryan watched him, twirling his own cup in his hands. Something... wasn’t right.
Becoming a God was not easy. He had lost his eyes, his heart, perhaps what was left of his mind, to pursue the ultimate power, one that could not be usurped. And he had returned to his kingdom to set right what was wrong - to reinstate himself as its sovereign, and slaughter everyone who had doubted his rule. He had thought the voices, the wrenching feeling in his gut, would subside. But there was something remaining, something that still plucked at random threads of thought in the back of his mind, that whispered to him in a voice he thought he knew. Looking down at Mogar, the only man he could ever trust, his eyes widened in realization.
“Come here,” he ordered, and of course Mogar went, bending on one knee, his head nearly in Ryan’s lap. Ryan couldn’t help but smile when he held out his hand, and Mogar kissed a signet ring there.
“Mogar... my loyal, ferocious warrior,” He held the man’s chin in his hand, “the only human that was ever worthy of my affections.” He pulled back slightly, examining his goblet. “There is something you should know.”
Mogar blinked. “Yes, my God?”
Ryan tossed his goblet to the side, metal clattering and wine splashing onto the floor. “Kings celebrate with wine,” he sneered, before swiping his hand across Mogar’s throat. As a man, the blow may not have even produced a scratch, but with his magic fueling the motion, Mogar’s throat was slit. His hand shot up to keep the wound shut. But it was too deep, and bleeding too profusely to stop.
Mogar looked up at him, dark eyes wide and misty with tears of pain. Ryan paid the expression no mind, instead swiping his thumb carefully over the exposed line of Mogar’s throat, collecting the red on his finger and placing it on his tongue to taste. “Real Gods require blood.” He sat back on his throne, and with a perfunctory kick of his foot, Mogar was sent spiraling onto the stone. He was dead before he hit the ground.
And that strange feeling he had welling inside him? The whispered thoughts that seemed to... idolize that man, single him out as someone special? They had screamed at him as Mogar bled out, but even they faded into nothingness not long after. Ryan sighed, relaxing on his throne.
The remnants of Ryan the man were gone, and only the Dark God remained.
