Inheritor Of Magic: The Magi King

Petros cleared his throat before beginning his story with a nervous glance around the area.

"I will start with the basics, as there is nobody here who doesn't already know. The King ascended by using a gift from the Divine One to murder his parents and steal their power. He did not make King Rank naturally, it was a result of the spell.

That has led to a severe inferiority complex, and an irrational fear that the same thing will happen to him.

He is terrified that his Nobles will overthrow him, so he sends constant missions to the Demon Realms in order to cull off those with ambition so that they don't get too close to his own power level.

It is only those of us who are older than he is and didn't care when the King changed who have been somewhat immune to his insanity.

Even then, it is not absolute. As you know, as even I was sent on a mission to the Ancient King of Magic's home castle, knowing he was holding court."

Wolfe nodded. "I had thought that you were simply all zealots. That's what the Demons call you, by the way. The Cult of the Fallen. They think you're insane religious fanatics."

Petros chuckled. "Well, you wouldn't be wrong in most cases. The Capital is a bit more open-minded, but that's only because everyone who isn't has already been deployed to the front lines on a dozen different worlds.

Now, normally he would get an entire season's worth of warning before someone became a Saint, and he would use that to test the newly ascended. But you arrived as a Saint, reeking of the Divine One's favour, and radiating the power of the Lowest Planes.

I'm not sure if he's going to listen to reason, or if he will think that you were sent here by the Divine One to assassinate him and steal his followers, the same as he did to his parents.

It is his greatest fear, and there isn't much we can do except try to explain the situation, and that you are from another world.

If you leave now, he will think we sent you away to amass an army against his rule, and that will only increase the attempts to attack your world.

How many do you have in your world that you can trust, who are Rank Eight or higher?"

Wolfe considered it for a moment. "I would say that there are at least the ten at Rank Eight plus myself, who can be counted upon, but if we are truly attacked, I can call in a favour and bring the Royals to assist."

Petros was confused. "Your world has Royals that aren't counted among the rulers?"

Wolfe shook his head. "Sorry, I wasn't clear. I meant the Royals of the Fae and Demon Realms. With an hour's notice, I could assemble twenty King Rank Royals to stand with us in exchange for a generous donation of powerful magics."

"Why does nobody know this?" Petros asked.

"Things have never gotten that bad. It is a more recent development, and the agreement wasn't in place during the great war on my world, when the majority of the Magi were eliminated while upholding their ideals of pacifism." Wolfe explained.

"We should avoid mentioning that. He will take it as a direct threat. When he arrives, I will introduce you as a foreign ambassador, and hopefully, he will see reason. We've only got a few more seconds," Petros replied, with his voice dropping to a whisper at the end.

Wolfe had to admit, it probably didn't look good when the King arrived, stepping through a portal with his Royal Guard, a group of ten Rank Eight mages, and found Wolfe standing among a group of the Capital's most noted Nobles.

A paranoid mind would see that as his Nobles showing favour to another, and if Wolfe hadn't already had magical armour active as his clothing, things could have ended very badly for him.

The King himself sent out a burst of magic that created a pillar of Unholy Fire around Wolfe, slowly draining his mana cores as the magic engulfed him.

Wolfe cast a Mana Barrier around the area, stifling all mana flow, and the flames almost instantly stopped as the King, and everyone else, stared at him in horror.

"Well, that's one way to greet an ambassador that your people had a peace treaty with." Wolfe informed Petros in a clear voice that carried to the King.

Petros had jumped back from the fire to avoid being incinerated by his liege, and the eyes of all the Nobles were terrified as they felt the magical contract between the Magi and the Fallen break with the act of war by the King.

For an instant, the King looked confused at Wolfe's words, but the mania was still the most prevalent emotion. It was obvious that the King was not just paranoid, he was insane.

The man's mind was broken, and he was lashing out at everything.

"Kill them all, they have all committed Treason, conspiring to take my throne from me!" The King screamed at his Royal Guards.

Wolfe felt the pull at his mana barrier, and he poured power into it, preventing the Royal Guard from drawing more than a trickle.

Petros shouted to get the King's attention. "Your Majesty, this is the ambassador of the Magi, Patriarch Wolfe Noxus of the Noxus Family. We have a peace treaty with his people."

Petros walked toward the King, imploring him to stop the attack, but the Royal Guard drew their blades to attack, determined to kill him with physical force if they couldn't use mana.

Wolfe didn't hesitate any longer, and used Unholy Fire to burn them to ash instantly.

"Your Majesty, you seem to have misunderstood what is going on here. Your Nobles were merely greeting a foreign dignitary that the Divine One sent to their lands for his advancement. There is no need for violence." Wolfe announced, as if he hadn't just killed ten men.