Devouring Dragon Heir

Klaus sat on the throne, the blood of his first victim still dripping from his hand and staining the ornate carvings of the chair.

The entire throne room was silent; a profound, chilling stillness had spread across the hall.

The nobles and ministers, a few dozen of them, stood frozen, their previous arrogance and drunken bravado replaced by sheer, unadulterated terror.

Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with disbelief, fixed on the red-eyed youth sitting on the throne as if he were a demon king himself.

Evans, the police commander, was shaking, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword. The several pseudo-transcendent allies from the other kingdoms were also shocked.

Even their own power had just become useless, as they hadn't even detected a small tremor in the air when Klaus had attacked earlier. He had breached their senses easily, and this fact terrified them.

Klaus, however, simply looked at them. His grin, slow and creepy, never left his face.

He felt the fear in the room; he could almost taste it, and it was a sensation that fueled him.

He did not want to expend any efforts in warning them and acting kind when he knew what kind of people they were.

His only goal right now was to clean up the trash before having a good night's sleep, which he hadn't properly had in a while. He wanted to meet the cute kiddo from his dream.

With a simple thought, he controlled his telekinetic force; Klaus's hand moved.

He pointed a finger at Evans, the commander of the police guards. Evans's eyes widened in horror. He felt an invisible force grip his body, squeezing him from all sides.

His bones cracked, his organs burst, and his body exploded, a gruesome display of flesh and bone spraying across the room. The blood and the stench of death filled the air.

Before anyone could ever have spoken a thing, the silence was forced to prevail.

The nobles and the allies, who had been frozen in their places, now started screaming.

The illusion of their power, their control, had been shattered in a few seconds. They were helpless, at the mercy of this silent, smiling, red-eyed monster on the throne.

Klaus, still with a grin on his face, pointed a finger at another noble.

The noble's head exploded, his brains splattering against the ancient tapestry behind him. Another noble, his eyes wide with fear, tried to escape, but an invisible force pulled him back and tore him apart, his body ripped into two pieces.

The room was now a scene of utter carnage, a sea of blood, gore, and terrified screaming people.

Klaus had tried controlling telekinetic force mixed with a bit of erosion ability, leading to such a devastating effect.

The erosion concept helped his small telekinetic bomb to pierce easily through the victim's body silently before the condensed high-pressured telekinetic force burst apart from the victim's insides.

The allies from the other kingdoms, the pseudo-transcendent ones, who were standing in a corner, were now looking at each other, their faces filled with fear.

They were powerful individuals, but they had never seen such a brutal, unseen power. One of them, a man with a heavy, two-handed sword, took a step forward and tried to attack Klaus.

But before he could even raise his sword, his body was torn apart, his organs ripped out, and his flesh stripped clean from his bones. The sword fell from his hands with a loud clatter.

Klaus, who was just sitting on the throne, looked at the remaining allies. He was now smiling, a genuine, amused smile.

He had just discovered his new power, a power that he could use to terrorize and control. "So, this is how it feels," he thought.

"To be like a god and have the power to destroy someone with just a command, although this is still far from being a God, but the feeling is great," Klaus mused.

The stamina and mana exhausted while killing was immense, but Klaus had now ranked up to SSS rank. Although that still limited the number of times he could use this ability, he was still chilled out, knowing that after a few kills, he is going to reach pseudo-transcendent rank.

He then decided to use his erosion concept solely.

He focused on the body of the man who had just tried to attack him, and his body, which was lying on the ground, started to dissolve.

His bones, his flesh, his organs everything was turning into dust, leaving no trace behind. The other allies, who were watching this, now started screaming. This was even more terrifying than the explosion.

The throne room was now silent again, the screams replaced by the sounds of bones cracking, flesh dissolving, and the soft splatter of blood.

The nobles and the remaining allies were now kneeling in front of him, their bodies shaking, their heads bowed. They were begging for mercy, their faces pale with fear.

They had lost everything. The kingdom, their power, their lives everything was now in the hands of the red-eyed demon on the throne.

Klaus looked at them, a grim look on his face. He had killed almost all of them except a few; among these, there were a few more pseudo-transcendent.

the ones who were celebrating their victory a few minutes ago.

He then stood up and walked down the stairs; his boots made crunching sounds as he crushed the leftover bones of his victims.

He looked at the kneeling nobles.

"I am the new king of this land," he said in a cold, final voice. "Now, give me your loyalty, and you can live. Or else, you will join your friends."

The choice was simple. The nobles, who had been kneeling, now raised their heads and looked at him with a mix of fear and caution.

A shivering noble suddenly and fanatically started muttering, "Oh great king, I bow to you..."

boom

The noble who had surrendered faced the same fate as the others who had died earlier.

"Tch, cowards," he smiled as he looked at the others.

"Hehe, I was just joking."

And with that, the other pale-faced people exploded, marking the end of the most significant purge in Riverdale's history, which will be remembered by the future generations for a very long time.

All the schemes the nobles had earlier formulated for Klaus went to waste, in the face of absolute power no schemes can thrive.

This was the law of power, the only rule Klaus complied to with a whole heart.

-----

The silence in the royal palace's great throne room was absolute. The only sounds were the soft drips of blood and the crackle of a few dying torches.

The walls, which were once adorned with paintings and carvings, were now splattered with red blood and fragments of flesh.

Just as the silence settled, the doors of the throne room, massive and heavy, burst open with a loud bang.

A group of soldiers, led by General Caesar, rushed in. They had just finished releasing all the loyal men of the king, who had been imprisoned in the cellars.

Caesar, with his face filled with a grim determination, held his sword high. "We are here to take back the kingdom!" he roared, his voice echoing in the now silent room.

He looked at the throne, expecting to see the corrupt nobles celebrating their victory. But what he saw instead made him freeze.

He saw Klaus, his figure small against the vastness of the room, standing in the middle of the carnage. His clothes were soaked in blood, his face was smeared with it, and his red eyes glowed in the darkness.

The throne, the walls, the floor literally everything was painted red. The bodies of the nobles and the allies were a grotesque, unrecognizable mess.

A collective gasp of horror escaped the soldiers who had just entered. Their faces, which had been filled with a sense of righteous anger, now turned pale.

Their swords, which they had held high, now trembled in their hands. The sight was too much for them.

A few soldiers, unable to bear the brutality, simply pissed themselves, the warm liquid running down their legs.

The man they had hailed as their savior, their messenger, had just massacred the entire nobility of the kingdom. The scale of the carnage was something they had never seen before.

Caesar, who had been standing at the front, was also shaking. He looked at Klaus, his mind a jumbled mess of fear and confusion.

He had expected to see a battle, a fight, but this was a slaughter.

He had brought his men expecting a fight full of sacrifices, but the battle was already over before it even started.

The kingdom was now free of these corrupt nobles, but the sheer terror of the messenger brought an unsettled weight in his mind.

He thanked God that the man in front of him was not an enemy of humanity, and at the same time, he felt pity for the people who were going to make an enemy out of this man.

Klaus, who was still in the center, looked at Caesar. He then smiled, a cold and confident expression.

"The kingdom is safe, Caesar. The traitors have been dealt with." He said in a fresh tone.

"Prepare some lodging and a bath for me," he ordered before walking out of the throne room.

"Also, handle the rest of the traitors on your own. I have killed the strongest ones, and just a few weak ants might be left now."

Caesar, who had been looking at him, slowly lowered his sword and nodded in a respectful position.

The other soldiers followed suit. They had no choice.

They were at the mercy of the messenger, a being who could kill them with a simple flick of his finger.

The throne room, which was once a symbol of fair governance and prosperity, was now painted red by the blood of the traitors, indicating the start of a new era for its people.