They Say I'm a Madman and a Tyrant. I Want to Clarify

They say I'm a madman and a tyrant. I want to clarify: I am not cruel.

In the Crimson Abyss beneath Castle Nathria, golden light was erupting in a spreading tide.

Like the roots of a golden tree growing outward, searing veins of light stretched beneath Revendreth's earth, racing upward with the passage of sunlight.

The light was seeping in, quietly altering the physical properties of Revendreth's rock strata. If it was not brought under control, something even more extravagant—or more disastrous—might descend upon this land of death.

This was clearly an uncontrolled release of power.

It was common among rookies who had suddenly gained immense power but could not control it properly. Like a bucket filled to the brim, even the slightest movement would make it spill.

With every breath Diakum took within the light, the searing veins of light surged upward. Yet after every breath, some of the overflowing Holy Light was suppressed, its heat gathered as much as possible and turned into part of his corona.

There was also the transformation toward shadow. The Vigilant within the light had a shadow behind him that continued to spread and swell, like the sun about to leap over the horizon.

He was ready for sunrise.

Let the night roar all it wished.

At dawn, every shadow would vanish like smoke.

As the hymns of the platinum Naaru, Zraly, echoed around him, Diakum opened his eyes at a certain moment. The surrounding light and shadows abruptly contracted, and every strange phenomenon vanished in that instant.

He gripped the warhammer beside him. The stellar radiance of the Sunstrider Warhammer also pulsed and drew inward, weaving a floating corona around the hammerhead as if it had a breath of its own. Every shift between light and shadow made every crack beneath Revendreth's