The Crimson Beast Vs The Death Monarch

"Wait just a second, Soul-king." A voice declared, followed by the mysterious steps of an individual.

From the gathering of captains, a figure emerged, a proud, of not one of the proudest noble who believed strength was the only necessity regardless of status stepped forward with a long smile stretched across her face.

"Now your Majesty." The figure said, her voice as sharp as a blade. "Though the orb shattered, it did not grant him a rank. Yet, for you to declare such a claim, surely it is no mistake. But I shall not concede it, not yet."

The Soul-King's lips curled into a knowing and cunning smile, his eyes unwavering, fixed upon the beast who thirsted for power.

"I see." He said, his voice tinged with both amusement and challenge. "Then, tell me, what would it take for you to acknowledge his strength? Misa."