Warlock of War: My Ares System

The Lich's eye sockets glowed with an unholy radiance, twin orbs of spectral malevolence that pierced through the darkness. The shackles, adorned with the lingering essences of the fallen, constrained the Lich's spectral form, a testament to the cosmic forces that held him captive in this surreal dimension.

The once-imposing visage of the Lich had eroded into a state of profound decay. His skeletal features were etched with the passage of time, a grotesque caricature of the immortal being he had once been. Wisps of necrotic energy clung to his form, manifesting as an ethereal shroud that whispered of his formidable past.

As the Lich stood shackled, the stench of death and decay emanated from his wretched form. The spectral chains, woven from the remnants of fallen soldiers, bound him to the collective essence of the battlefield. The Lich's weakened and rotting appearance bore witness to the toll exacted by the ceaseless passage of cosmic time.

The ethereal shackles groaned with the weight of the fallen, each corpse contributing to the spectral bonds that restrained the Lich. His weakened and rotting form seemed a macabre fusion of the undead and the forgotten, a grotesque tableau of mortality's inevitable embrace even for beings of immense power. As he faced Orion in this surreal dimension, the Lich stood as a poignant reminder of the transience that awaited even the most immortal of entities.

"Do you want to have the honor of slaying this disgusting thing?" Orion smiled, and still, the goddess of lust couldn't help but twitch her eye with a rattling amount of nerves. 

"Hey, kid… why are you blocking out your thoughts?" 

"..." 

"..." 

"[Throne World…" Orion's eyes widened and his grin shot into a sadistic smile. His hands came up, crossing against each other, creating somewhat of an inverted cross before the goddess of lust reacted instinctively. 

"[Gate of Hell…" She muttered, a searing purple glow shining brightly from the center of her right palm. 

In the realm of Throne Worlds, the concept revolves around the notion that the manifestation within the status and system, connected to the body, is a mere hollow shell compared to the vastness of one's imagination. The Throne World represents a deeply personal and unique dimension that is shaped and molded by the individual's thoughts, desires, and creativity.

The status and system, acting as a conduit between the physical realm and the abstract dimensions of the mind, provide a limited reflection of the true potential contained within. The hollow shell within the system is a simplified representation, a fraction of the complexity that the individual envisions within their Throne World.

The potential for improvement in one's Throne World exists through a transformative process. By altering and enhancing the shell, filling it with new elements, and pushing the boundaries of imagination, an individual can theoretically elevate their Throne World to new heights. This process doesn't necessarily involve evolution or a change in class but rather a conscious and creative effort to redefine and expand the limits of their personal realm.

This concept implies that the richness and depth of one's Throne World are not predetermined or fixed. Instead, it suggests a dynamic and evolving landscape that can be actively influenced and augmented by the individual's own development, experiences, and imagination. As the shell is filled with more intricate details, complexities, and facets of the individual's essence, the Throne World can undergo significant enhancement, becoming a more vivid and expansive representation of their inner world.

In the intricate tapestry of cosmic existence, there are conversations and revelations known only to the darkest and most ancient beings. Orion, unaware of the profound intricacies governing Throne Worlds, found himself at the precipice of transformation without conscious intent. The subtle currents of the universe had woven a narrative beyond his immediate comprehension.

As the mysterious conversation unfolded in the shadowy corners of existence, a natural and uncharted reaction occurred within Orion's being. The threads connecting his consciousness to the Throne World stirred, responding to forces beyond his conscious awareness. The hollow shell within the status and system, a reflection of his current state, began to resonate with the unspoken whispers of cosmic secrets.

This spontaneous transformation marked a subtle shift in Orion's connection to his Throne World. The unfolding events acted as a catalyst, prompting the evolution of his personal dimension without deliberate action on his part. The process, guided by forces unseen, led to an expansion of his Throne World's potential, despite Orion's lack of awareness regarding the intricate mechanics at play.

The metaphysical essence of Orion's being resonated with the cosmic undercurrents, and the unfolding of his Throne World became a testament to the enigmatic nature of existence. It was a dance of shadows, a choreography orchestrated by unseen hands that transcended the boundaries of mortal comprehension.

A part of the conversation Orion had with the lich echoed out of his mind and through his very own world. 

'I've seen people like you before. A person of many ideas. But I think of you as somebody more like a fractured person. You try to be everything you want to be, but at that same time, you spread yourself thin…' 

In the ethereal expanse of Orion's Throne World, the quote "I've seen people like you before. A person of many ideas. But I think of you as somebody more like a fractured person. You try to be everything you want to be, but at that same time, you spread yourself thin…" reverberates as a subtle undercurrent, shaping the very fabric of his Kingdom of Null.

The Kingdom of Null, mirroring the complexity of Orion's character, stands as a realm of fractured ideals and multifaceted ambitions. The landscape is a tapestry woven from threads of diverse aspirations, each strand representing a different facet of his intricate persona. Towers of innovation rise alongside citadels of wisdom, reflecting his desire to encompass myriad ideas within the boundaries of his realm.

Yet, within the grandeur of the Kingdom of Null, there is an undeniable sense of fragmentation. The very essence of Orion's Throne World embodies the struggle to reconcile the multitude of identities and ambitions that reside within him. The architecture of his realm is both a testament to his boundless creativity and a reflection of the challenges posed by the inherent tension in spreading oneself thin across a multitude of pursuits.

The Kingdom of Null resonates with an atmosphere of perpetual motion, symbolizing the ceaseless striving to be everything envisioned. Vast landscapes of diversity unfold, from crystalline spires representing aspirations to shadowy valleys embodying uncharted depths of the self. The fractal nature of the Kingdom mirrors the complexity of Orion's thoughts and ambitions, a testament to the perpetual dance of self-discovery.

In the Throne World's grand halls, echoes of past endeavors linger, coexisting with the echoes of future possibilities. This coalescence of timelines reflects the multifaceted nature of Orion's identity, embodying the idea of being fractured across the temporal spectrum. Each corner of the Kingdom of Null tells a story of a different facet, a fragment of the whole, creating a mosaic of experiences and ambitions.

The Kingdom's inhabitants, embodiments of Orion's ideals, move with a synchronized disharmony, reflecting the challenge of juggling diverse roles and aspirations. They exist as living echoes of his attempts to be everything he envisions, yet their movements subtly convey the inherent tension and delicate balance required to navigate the complexities of a fractured existence.

Orion took a sharp breath. 

"... Ακρόπολη του πολέμου]." 

Translation: Citadel of War. A realm forged in the crucible of conflict and steeped in the essence of battle. A sprawling citadel, its towering obsidian walls rise majestically, adorned with ominous symbols that resonate with the energies of war and blood. The air is heavy with the scent of iron and the echoes of distant clashes.

Within the citadel, expansive war-torn landscapes stretch as far as the eye can see. Fields of muddy ground, battered by ceaseless rain, serve as a haunting reminder of the countless battles fought within the realm. The skies above are perpetually shrouded in storm clouds, unleashing torrents of rain that seem to wash away the sins of war.

The god marks on Orion's face manifest as intricate, luminescent patterns that stretch out from under his eyes, forming an ethereal tapestry across his visage. These divine symbols glow with an otherworldly radiance, pulsating with the celestial energies that course through his being. The patterns, a manifestation of his elevated status and connection to the divine weave an enigmatic story of power and destiny.

As the god marks unfold, a surreal transformation occurs. The skin splits open along the lines of the intricate patterns, revealing a golden glow emanating from within. The moment is both beautiful and awe-inspiring as if the very essence of Orion's divine potential is being laid bare for the world to witness.

From the opened seams of his skin, golden blood emerges, shimmering with an ethereal brilliance. This divine ichor, unlike any mortal fluid, carries with it the essence of celestial power and untapped potential. Each drop seems to contain a fragment of the cosmic forces that bind Orion to his elevated role, radiating a sublime energy that hints at the vast depths of his divine nature.

The golden blood flows gracefully down his face, tracing the contours of the god marks, and drips onto the ground below. Wherever it touches, the ground seems to absorb the celestial essence, and a faint, ephemeral glow lingers in its wake.

At that moment, a smile echoed from the heavens. Deep in the room containing the thrones of the twelve Olympians was a man soaked in blood staring at his own son who had finally realized his full potential. 

And well, it wasn't just him as the remaining twelve Olympians stared down in horror as the one thing they needed to take out had grown to a level that could now take a step in their direction. 

However, the Goddess of Lust reacted in kind. 

"... Malificent Desire]."