King. He liked the term king. It suited him well. He was different than the others, stronger and wiser, so they had no choice but to call him king.
They waited on him hand and foot, and soon nothing short of a throne would suit him. A once self-proclaimed humble man became a ruthless ruler in a matter of a few short years. The change was inevitable though. Those born with the blessing of superior traits would get their trophies in time.
Those with the power of an iron grip can grasp onto their goals, or their enemy's necks, and get what they want. It is not fragile, it will not falter. It is one of the few certain things in this world. Still, with power there is consequence.
The decent into madness is a subtle thing for a king, but was not all around unpleasant. If this was the price for power, then he would pay it off in full. There was concern in the kingdom when he first began to slip, his cold laughter echoing at night. Now however, they too can see the strength he holds.
In his path everything burns. Even his subjects must step aside or else face is wrath. No one is stronger, or more insane, than the evil king Bowser.
Long live the king.