The humans they had come into contact with had, despite the advanced weaponry, not held against their magic. His people were already starting to spread far across the land they were in, taking over any town that lay before them. His kin had taken well to training. Everyone had their place. If one could not kill, they were used as scouts or used around the camps.
Asgore sighed and stepped away from the edge. His wings fluttered slightly before settling, tucked against his back. He'd taken to slipping away in the evenings to have some time alone. After the first week of absorbing the human souls, he'd started to see the last human he'd killed, Frisk.
The child never said anything, but would look at him. They would trail after Asgore everywhere he went; whether, it was to sleep, to meet with his generals or just through the skies as Asgore had taken to doing. It was strange sometimes how the wings felt second nature and had taken no time at all to learn.
Frisk sat beside Asgore on the ground. No one else ever saw them. He looked down at the child after setting his trident on the ground. "I did this for my people child," he spoke quietly to the human. He did this quite often when alone, speaking to Frisk. Surely, speaking out his feelings to a spectre would do no harm?
There was no surprise when he didn't recieve an answer. Asgore continued to look at the child a moment longer before he looked up towards the sky. The stars were quite something. From what he'd been told, his own eyes had changed, looking just as the heavens he gazed upon. It was unnerving for Asgore to look upon his own eyes, so he very seldom looked into anything reflective.
"We're taking on the head of this land tomorrow." He spoke aloud as he leaned back against some rocks. He fingered the shaft of his trident absentmindedly. "They won't back down despite everything that has happened so far... The humans have quite the determination... Like you do." He stopped, biting his tongue. Speaking of that felt like a sharp slap to the face.
Asgore closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He spoke to the spectre as if they were really there. And he constantly had to remind himself that the child wasn't there, that they were dead... That their soul was within his body. He frowned deeply. He didn't want to think about this. He didn't want to give into the feelings that had been threatening to consume him.
The Saviour of Monsters stood, trident in hand before taking a few steps and leaping from the cliff face. The air whipped around his face as he fell sharply towards the trees below. Just before hitting trees, he spread his wings and did a swift change of direction and flew over the tree tops.