"A king…" Damon muttered softly. That was laughable. Someone like him was no king.

He reached up and touched the crown resting above his head, fingers brushing its cold, smooth surface.

This was the crown of some truly great.

The Keeper of False Truths.

"No. I'm a usurper. I've defeated great kings and taken what was theirs… yet I remain destitute, with nothing of my own."

That was true in the end. The one who defeated the ruler of Lysithara was Damon, the one who overcame his riddles. It was also Damon who faced the strongest: Ashcroft, the Demon King of Domination.

From the ruler of Lysithara, he had taken armor and crown. From Ashcroft, he had taken his very shadow and his attribute.

"I am a sovereign without a kingdom."

Lyn glanced at Sithara, then slowly lowered his head.

"Did your kingdom get destroyed?"

Damon smiled faintly and shook his head.

"No. I didn't have one to begin with. I am a usurper, after all. I take, I don't build. The people I took from had followers who believed in them… but I don't have that. Those who followed me were usually desperate fools I manipulated and cornered into fighting for my goals."

He looked away, voice quieter.

"Those people were great. They inspired others I stole. No one would choose to follow me."

Sithara crossed her arms and glared at him.

"Then create one."

Damon blinked.

"You can create something beautiful too, can't you?" she continued. "You might not have a whole kingdom… but you have a lot for someone who claims to have nothing."

Damon raised a brow.

"I don't have nothing. I have the stuff I took."

Sithara shook her head sharply and pointed toward Matia standing guard at the tent entrance.

"You have a loyal knight who's followed you this far. You have some baby-looking god." She looked back at Damon. "And you told us to create something beautiful. You can do the same."

She placed a hand on her chest.

"We're going to create Lysithara. But Lysithara doesn't have a king to lead it." She straightened, voice steady. "I formally appoint you as our king."

Damon was taken aback.

Lyn stood up too, a bit of innocence still clinging to his face.

"All hail the king of Lysithara."

Damon's eyes widened. Lysithara had never had a king. Those who ruled it were always called city lords, never kings.

Lazarak stood up, playing along, his tone theatrical.

"All hail the king."

Matia, standing by the exit, inclined her head slightly. Beneath her helm, she seemed to smile.

"All hail the king of Lysithara."

And just like that, Damon became king of a place that did not yet exist. This time, he had not taken it. He had not deceived or cheated anyone.

He had been chosen.

Someone had made the choice to pull Damon into their dream.

Sithara smiled brightly at him.

"Now we are the Kingdom of Lysithara."

Damon scoffed, shaking his head.

"Enough of your make-believe. Eat, take a bath, and sleep. We'll be traveling the desert tomorrow."

He stood and left the tent.

A small smile lingered on his face.

"Damn brats…"

.....

When morning came, Damon pulled the tent back into his shadow storage. He had planned to wake them at the crack of dawn, but guilt tugged at him. Letting children travel so long without rest sat poorly with him.

So he let them sleep until they woke naturally a few hours later, almost noon.

It was technically still morning, but the desert winds were already hot.

Damon sighed as they mounted the lesser demon. Matia walked beside them, her aura radiating cold as small snowflakes drifted from her armor, cooling the air around them.

Which was weird, she didn't usually do that.

"Hey, Sithara. How long until we get to Yari?" Damon called out.

She lifted her head and pulled out a large scroll, actually a star chart she had created before sleeping.

"We're nine days away by my estimate. However, Lyn theorized additional factors that can increase or reduce our travel rate."

She glanced up from the map.

"Do you want me to name those factors?"

Damon shook his head.

He didn't really care. Whatever it was, he was sure they could handle it.

"Let's just go."

Lazarak stood on a small rock, looking out over the desert with a wary smile.

"What are our odds in this place? Do you think we'll run into any of your friends here?"

Damon shook his head.

"I doubt it. Though I have my hopes up for Yari."

A few hours passed. Damon began sweating inside his ascendant armor. He reached into his shadow, pulled out a bottle of water, and downed it in one go.

He glanced at his shadow with irritation.

"Hey. Is this heat bothering you as much as it is me?"

The shadow shook itself slightly, as if mocking him for even asking.

"Yeah. I figured."

Matia's aura began radiating less cold. She had been doing it passively before or so he thought, but now the heat was overwhelming even for her.

Or was it.

Damon felt the world distort slightly. His lips cracked and dried, and an invisible pressure pressed down on him. He hadn't noticed it earlier due to his immense mana, but now he did.

"Is it just me, or am I passively losing mana?"

Lazarak, who had formed a parasol of darkness overhead, stumbled slightly, sweat running down his face.

"It's not just you."

He looked at his hands.

"This desert is a mana anomaly. Instead of a chaotic mana storm, it absorbs mana directly from the body."

"Hahaha…" Damon laughed despondently.

That was bad. Very bad. They couldn't recover lost mana in this world.

"And what happens when we completely run out of mana?"

Lyn, seated on the lesser demon, looked up, face pale.

"Mana is an internal system tied to our lifeforce. If all of it is depleted and the desert continues to drain…" He swallowed. "I imagine we die slow, agonizing deaths."

Damon groaned.

"We need mana cores."

His eyes hardened.

"We have to hunt monsters… or die."

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