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Dark Creator - The God of Nothing
Chapter 12 - Wrath of gods.

Chapter 12 - Wrath of gods.

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The closer that Saho got to the remains to the outer wall of the city, the worse the heat got.

The demon king’s flames had been burning the city for hours now, the charred corpses of the defenders crumbling to ashes as the demon smashed everything inside the walls. The melted armor of the city guards mixed with the remains of citizens who had joined in the fight and the bones of the undead that had been felled in battle. Fuyuko almost threw up when she smelled it. Among the bodies, they could spot the armor that belonged to an elven general, now barely recognizable.

Not too far away, The sounds of the demon king crushing whatever was left of the city echoed down burned roads.

Saho gripped his sword tighter. He would end this. By the time he was done, the demon king would be just as broken as the bodies that it left in its wake.

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Smash. Crush. Break.

It kept attacking, though there was no more enemy to fight. Its opponent had long since been destroyed, their remains having been shattered beneath its claws.

Smash. Crush. Break.

Then it smelled something new. Another enemy to fight. Another foe to smash, crush, and break beneath them.

Smash. Crush. Break.

It let out a roar as it charged towards the new opponents, arms forwards and ready to snap them like twigs.

Smash them. Crush them. Break them. Show them no mercy, for you will receive none.

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Rio rolled to the left, barely dodging a swipe from the demon’s huge hands.

As soon as they approached the demon king, it had turned– faster than anything so big should– and charged them, reaching for them with its enormous talons. Most of them had been able to dodge, although the paladin couldn’t move fast enough and was turned into a puddle before he could blink.

The orange light from the fires cast a terrible silhouette of the demon, and its piercing yellow eyes glowed dangerously. Dripping gore left over from the paladin painted its hands, and not-yet-dried blood that Rio suspected came from the defenders covered its fur.

Saho stood against it, his normally decently tall frame appearing like a child’s when compared to the size of the monster. His sword glowed with holy light, and his scarred armor reflected it like it was made of gold.

The image was branded into his mind, and he had no doubt that if he survived he would see this whenever he closed his eyes to sleep.

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Saho had dodged what felt like dozens of attacks before his first swing even landed.

He might have been more agile, but a single hit from the demon would send him flying and require healing. Fuyuko had tried to distract it so he could get a hit in, only to get thrown through a stone wall. In the confusion of the battle, nobody had gotten a chance to check on her yet.

In a flurry of slashes one of the demon’s hands was taken off at the wrist, followed by two arrows sprouting from its upper arm sent by the party ranger. Unperturbed, its other arm struck Saho with the force of a battering ram, slamming him backwards towards the flaming ruins of a library.

Before he could get back up, the ranger was dead, smashed like a bug beneath its other hand, and the demon king was practically on top of Saho, ready to turn him to paste.

He tensed, ready to try to roll away, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it.

Before it could move to crush him, One of Fuyuko’s daggers appeared in the demon king's eye. In a roar of fury, it recoiled, giving Saho a moment to strike.

Saho used the gift of his patron, channeling holy power through the blade of his sword. A beam of golden light shot from the tip, throwing the beast backwards, slicing its broken chest like a thousand knives. Black blood poured from its wounds, and its fur was alight with fire.

It rose, and with a bellow of pain and rage it charged- faster and more powerful than a landslide- with its jaw unhinged and its tusks pointed forwards.

Saho swung his sword, blessed with the power of the Great Creator.

To Fuyuko, with her injured body propped against a smashed bookshelf, it looked like the sun itself had appeared in front of her.

To Saho, it felt like a great fire was burning below his crushed armor and inside his body.

To the demon king, it was like it could feel its body break, crumbling to nothing as the light took it to pieces.

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Akira could feel the presence of the enormous demon was purged from the universe. With its defeat, she could even feel as the many hordes of demons froze in their invasion and began to retreat back to whence they came.

The dark atmosphere that had been spread over Asyke had finally lifted, and even the looming pressure from outside the universe had stopped. The damage caused both to the planet and to the god which watched over it would take generations to relieve, but now they would at least have a chance to do so.

She smiled. The universe seemed slightly brighter.

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Hifumi was the daughter of Kaito and Mei, and the princess of the god-city of Kyou. She didn’t stand out as much as her sister, the crown princess, but that was alright. She didn’t want to.

Hifumi loved to learn. It was her favorite thing to do. She had spent hundreds of years as various races all across the universe, learning about cultures and beliefs, technology and knowledge.

Out of all of the races that she learned from, the ones that stuck out the most to her were the so-called dark races. Everything, from their varying appearances, to their fascinating cultures, to the stark difference between their beliefs and the beliefs of other races.

It was during her time learning as a young orc girl that the village she was learning in was attacked, and her captured by Elves. Unfortunately, as a result of her desire to learn, she had locked her godly powers from use while in the form of an orc, at least for the foreseeable future. Should her orc body die, however, she would regain her power immediately.

She watched as the orcs who taught her fight the elves, giving their lives to protect their families. She saw them rise again from where they had been cut down to buy a little more time for their children to escape.

Rage boiled within her mortal heart. When she was captured along with the other children, she did not fight. She watched, wrath building inside her for every torture the elves put her and the others through. She would strike back one day. But for now she would learn.

It was her favorite thing to do.

She was a god. But now she was also an orc.

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