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I stared down at the puny mortals, the smirk still playing on my lips. "Weeks? Mere weeks? You fools, I am no dragon that can be beaten once and my treasures stolen. I am no castle, that you could beat in my doors and plunder. I go beyond the physical, beyond even the metaphysical. To defeat me, you need more than a keen blade, but the wits and cunning of a generation, and the endurance of-"

One of the whelps interrupted. "Look, we get it, you're super powerful or whatever. But we've beaten you time and again; at this point, it's getting embarrassing. Like... how many forms do you have? Could we fight all of them at once? Seriously, we haven't even used any resources so far. Sir Hector literally took a nap during the last battle."

I chuckled. "It is clear you have no idea who you face. I am the underpinning of the universe, the glue of the heavens, the-"

The blonde one with the shiny bow interrupted this time. It was beginning to irritate me. "Yeah, yeah. We *literally* don't care. Kill the monster, take their loot, you're all the same. You're just another boring boss in a long line of boring bosses, but you're, like, the *most* boring boss, in the history of ever. Please just die!"

I raised myself off my throne, where I had dramatically fallen at the end of the last battle. "Why yes, yes I am. And yet, even now, when you even speak my name aloud, you fail to understand."

I walked down the steps, discarding my wild, flowing cloak and the tattered rags I had worn before. It was close; closer than ever before, or at least closer than it had been in many, many years. I could feel the ancient thrum of power, so old, yet so tantalizingly familiar.

And, of course, the fellow with the sword lashed out, and the angry little man threw a fireball at me, and the blonde lady shot me with an arrow, and even Sir Hector, the only one with any sense, stumbled to his feet and swung his mace at me. We battled, another "boring" fight, where the poor fools tore and shredded my most recent body, battering the shiny armor and dodging every blast I threw at them.

I had to admit, it was a chore. But rules are rules; every battle, I had to try to kill them. And try I did; the blonde one missed a step, and I swooped in and burned her arm, though Sir Hector healed her immediately. The fighter dropped his sword, and was rewarded with a broken blade when I stomped on it. Even Sir Hector misused a spell and wasted it. Finally, the battle was done; once again, I was thrown back against my throne, my armor shattered.

Once again, I laughed. No chuckle, this time. I could feel it, hot within me. "So close! So close. And yet you insignificant weaklings have no idea who I even am."

"Gods damn it!" the fighter swore, flinging his useless sword against a wall, stomping back and forth as he left off steam. "How many of these damn forms are there?"

I grinned through bloody teeth. "Oh, you'll see. Or you won't, I suppose. You could quit now. Nine thousand, nine hundred, ninety eight forms. That's enough for anyone, isn't it?"

Sir Hector's brow furrowed, and I felt a tinge of cold dread. Quickly, I stood. "Go ahead then, mister swordy-man, take another shot at me. You, there, you brainless excuse for an archer, take your best shot!"

I flung out my arms dramatically, my most recent broken armor sloughing to the ground and melting away. "What about you, pointy-hat? Have any good spells left?"

The wizard scoffed. "Hang on, guys. I think I get it, now. As long as we don't leave, we're still fighting him, but he doesn't attack us until we hit him first. Don't let him goad you - we can totally just hang out and get all our spells back, and heal and whatever!"

The others looked unsure, but the fighter sheathed his second-favorite sword, and the archer lowered her bow. "See? He can't hit is until we hit him!"

The wizard, supremely confident, stretched out on the floor for a nap. I turned with a shout of what I hoped closely mimicked impotent rage, and leaned against my throne to hide my smile.

Two hours later, the wizard awoke and stretched; the others, having had some food and drink, looked stronger. The fighter had even managed to enact some sort of temporary fix for his broken sword. Once again, they spread out in front of me. The wizard yawned. "See? He's stuck. He can't break his rules. I knew there was something weird going on, but this is it - we can take our time!"

I stepped off my throne, barely able to hide my glee. "Oh, you think you've figured me out, have you? Well, perhaps this form will make you change your mind..."

I leaped down, smoothly transitioning into the form of a wild animal, the claws of a tiger, the strength of a bear, the wicked teeth of a wolf. I clawed and bit, harried and struck, until I was reduced to a panting, bleeding heap. *So close... I can taste it, now, beyond my blood and theirs...*

I stood, once again in a humanoid form. Sir Hector stared at me with narrowed eyes, and I felt that cold touch again. He was close, as well. Close to understanding. He mumbled to himself, "9,999 forms... 9,999... animal form... huh."

I couldn't hide the mad twinkle in my eyes. "Well, come on then, or do you need another nap so soon? You've barely broken a sweat. Do you want to die here? Whose end shall come? What darkness..." I trailed off. Too soon. I'd seen the look of sudden understanding in Sir Hector's eyes. The cold dread shook me to my core. Not now, not when I was so close!

The fighter slashed at me, and I effortlessly parried it, my shape once again changing into a sparkling crystal golem. Sir Hector cried out, but it was too late. The fighter had begun the battle against my ten-thousandth form.

And then, something surprising happened. Sir Hector turned his mace against the wizard, dealing a resounding crack to the poor fellow's head. As the caster staggered back in surprise, the fighter shouted at the archer, "Take down Sir Hector! He's been mind-controlled, or something! Knock him out!"

The archer quickly whirled and planted three magical arrows into Sir Hector, as the wizard targeted him with some sort of grasping vines. I was holding back, and the ancient geas was burning in my head, but I knew what to do. Leaping back from the fighter, I poured my energy into the bound form of Sir Hector. As I burned his head from his body, I hissed in his ear, "You know, don't you? You figured it out. My gift to you - a quick death."

The other three, seeing their friend die in front of them, were galled to action, and attacked me with a whirlwind of blades and arrows. I fended them off as best I could, but my best was hardly good enough, and my form fell to the ground, shattering into a million shards of crystal. As a cloud of dark energy, i floated back to my throne, and finally felt its cool touch.

The fighter rushed to his friend; the wizard tried desperately to use potions and magic, but it was no use. Even if he had a scroll of resurrection hidden up his dainty sleeves, the battle was over. The archer whirled and screamed, "Why won't you *die!*" and fired an arrow at my head. I plucked it out of the air as easily as plucking a flower from a field, and turned it idly in my hand. Slowly, it darkened into a smoky black.

"Have you ever heard the story of the Ten Thousand Sacrifices? Probably not. Your friend did, though. Poor Sir Hector. Didn't figure it out until it was just that much too late. The story went like this: a terrible evil befell the land, blah blah blah, and so challenged the best combatants in the country to battle, one on one. Each one fought, and each one died. The first was a wizard who built himself a crystal suit, the second was a terrible werewolf, the third a mighty paladin clothed in shining armor, the fourth a cunning magician, dressed in colorful rags, and so on and so forth. But these fortune-seekers had played a trick on the villain of our little tale. That crystal suit trapped the souls of anyone who could not defeat it, using each soul as a prison. The flea-bitten little wizard tricked the villain. Once the dust had settled, ten thousand souls clung to him. He could use their abilities, but he could no use his own, until every last one had been defeated. And until today, no one has managed it. They gave up, bored, or they planned poorly and died. Until today."

I returned the arrow to its origin. The archer gasped as it pierced her heart, and could only watch as tendrils of smoke encircled her. With a wave of my hand, the fighter's sword melted into darkness, and he too was ensnared. The wizard, thinking quickly, threw his book of spells to the ground. Well, he tried, anyway. I snapped my fingers, and he fell to the ground as smoke curled around him.

"No one could ever defeat ten thousand forms, they said. And oh, how you proved them wrong. Forever, your names will be etched in the minds of everyone I meet. The little party of fools, who broke every chain that bound me."

I stepped lightly down from my throne and stared into the eyes of the thoughtless whelps. I watched the fear in their eyes as I drained the life from their bodies. Oh yes. This, dear children... *this* is my final form.

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Submitted by I_Arman on Tue, Jan 17, 2023 to /r/WritingPrompts/

The prompt

“Heh.” You wipe the blood off your mouth with a smirk. “This isn’t even my final form.” “Good lord, we’ve been doing this for WEEKS now, can you please skip to the end?!”