"A man who has committed more sins than Eleanor does not exist! He has murdered, slaughtered, and plundered. He has defiled, shamed, and abused. Eleanor Davis has brought shame upon himself, his family, all his ancestors, and this nation! But all that, doesn't even come close to his greatest sin. His greatest sin, and the reason you have come, is the cold-blooded and treacherous murder of the holy King Alexander, the savior of our world!"

Eleanor had to squint his eyes as he was dragged from the small chamber into the bright, radiant light of the sun. The huge crowd parted as Eleanor was led through them. They screamed and insulted him, they threw stones and spat at him. Some even attempted to attack him with weapons, but the twelve muscular and powerful guards walking beside him held back all assailants. However, the guards did not want to protect Eleanor from the stones that were being thrown at him. They left painful deep wounds on his skin, some even struck his head and several times he was about to fall, but the guards dragged him on. Eleanor was bound in dozens of iron chains that deprived him of any freedom in his hands and feet. After all, he was Eleanor, the greatest sinner who had ever lived.

"Rot in hell, you bastard!"

...

"I hope you'll burn in the underworld for eternity!"

...

"I curse all your ancestors!"

...

"I hope they gouge out your eyes and let you devour them!"

...

Everyone insulted him. They all hated him. Eleanor couldn't even retort or smile at them because he was gagged, preventing him from uttering a single word.

He looked up and could see the grandstand where the rulers of this land were assembled, gazing down at him expectantly. Eleanor spat inwardly and cursed each and every one of those corrupt, power-hungry assholes.

These damn hypocrites were surely glad that he finally killed the king. That way, they could regain power for themselves. The holy King Alexander was nothing more than a thorn in their side as far as they were concerned!

But no one would believe him anyway, he had tried to convince the people too many times, but they were all foolish and incapable! So he had to take matters into his own hands and uproot the corruption at its core! He hated having to assume this role, but there was no one else who would do it for him. He still vividly remembered the stories his grandfather used to tell him, stories that would shape his entire future...

...

"Grandfather, please tell me the story of the Magicians again!"

Eleanor's grandfather was an old yet kind man who had never brought injustice to anyone in his entire life. Eleanor loved him dearly and saw him as his great role model.

The old man laughed, "I have already told you the story a thousand times. By now, you know it better than your old grandfather with his bad memory."

Eleanor eagerly shook his head, "But I want to hear it from you again!"

"Well, alright. Thank goodness I am already so old and can't argue with you anymore. Sit down and I'll begin:

In a time that predates the oldest of human memories, this world was overflowed with a sinister darkness that lurked within every shadow.

Monstrous creatures reigned, and the realm was consumed by unbridled chaos. But then, divine existences emerged. One, as vast as the very planet, bestowed upon us the stones, meadows, water, and sustenance we needed to thrive.

Another, as ancient as the cosmos itself, gifted us with the precious flow of time.

And a third, as diverse as the myriad creatures that tread the Earth, breathed life into existence, crafting the animals that soar through the heavens and roam the land.

And lastly, a golden and magnificent being, abounding with kindness and love, harmonized the gifts of the three gods and birthed us, the human race.

Yet, humanity's survival hung by a thread, for a malevolent creature born from hatred, anger, and malice hunted every creation the gods had wrought, plunging the world into relentless chaos. This abomination pursued us humans with an unquenchable thirst, spawning three malicious beings dedicated solely to our annihilation.

Through the darkened skies soared a cloaked creature, its form shrouded in mystery.

Across the land roamed an ethereal entity, shapeless and enigmatic.

And beneath the turbulent seas prowled a ravenous beast, hungry for our demise.

Relentlessly, they and their kin pursued the humans, driving them from their lands, destroying their homes, and consuming their very lives.

Witnessing the agonizing predicament of the humanity they treasured, the gods turned their gaze back upon our world, their hearts heavy with the suffering they beheld.

It was time for them to intervene, and so they bestowed upon us a mystical and formidable gift: magic.

Oh, what a wondrous force it was! Magic manifested in countless forms, endowing humans with a fraction of the gods' own power. Some could summon the fury of lightning, others conjure cascades of roaring flames, while a few possessed the ability to manipulate objects with naught but a gesture, infusing them with untold power.

United by this newfound magic, humanity waged a war against the encroaching darkness and chaos. Thus began the clash between humanity and the three abominations birthed from chaos and their vile progeny.

Alas, even armed with magic, humans found themselves outmatched by the monstrous forces. The gods observed this desperate struggle and knew they had to do more.

They selected three heroes, the paragons of humanity, and bestowed upon them another gift. These chosen heroes were granted the power to confront the three abominations head-on.

Thus emerged the hero of the seas, the hero of the skies, and the hero of the earth, each wielding an immense power that elevated them to the status of demigods.

Through their might, humanity finally managed to push back the tide of chaos. The heroes controlled the seas, the skies, and the land itself. The war waged on for years, and ultimately, the three abominations were vanquished, and their reign of terror was brought to an end.

But when the heroes faced the source of all this turmoil, Chaos itself, they discovered the limits of their strength. They fell, one by one, as humanity's hope turned to grief and despair.

In the wake of this tragedy, the people beseeched the gods for aid once again. Their prayers echoed in the divine realms, and the gods responded, bestowing upon humanity their final gift.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Descending to the mortal realm, they assumed human form and personally confronted Chaos. Yet, even the gods could not extinguish its existence completely. As long as hatred and anger prevailed, this monstrous entity would continue to thrive.

Thus, the gods imprisoned Chaos, banishing it from our dimension, and confining it within an unfathomable prison. But this binding could not endure indefinitely. With each passing day, fueled by humanity's festering hatred, the creature grew stronger, biding its time until the day it would break free once more.

And so, the gods spoke to the people with urgency and solemnity, their voices resonating with a final warning: "Embrace the gift of magic and seek out every vestige of hatred and anger. In their absence, Chaos shall remain contained, and a new war shall not consume us all!"

With those weighty words, the gods vanished from sight, retreating into the depths of their eternal slumber.

As Eleanor's grandfather concluded his tale, he was almost sleeping already. Eleanor shook him gently, his eyes brimming with curiosity and impatience.

"Grandfather!" he implored. "Tell me, where are the magicians now?"

His grandfather's weary eyes fluttered open. "Wha...Ah...yes. After the gods' departure, the magicians diligently obeyed their command, safeguarding the world from the taint of anger and hatred. Their efforts birthed a realm of unparalleled peace, devoid of war, corruption, and murder.

They ensured that all adhered to the righteous path.

But then, all of a sudden, the magicians began to vanish, one by one. Their fate remains a mystery to this day. Some speculate they perished, while others believe they merely left. Anyways, their numbers dwindled until none remained.

The memories of the magicians faded into recollections, then stories, and eventually, legends. With the disappearance of magic, peace dissipated from our world, and corruption spread like wildfire. Wars erupted, and no force prevented the scourge of murder and death. Anger was amassed over time, and hatred thrived. And thus, the captive monster within its prison grew stronger, day by day. Rumors suggest it has already stirred, awaiting the opportune moment to break free again."

"But Grandfather, the world isn't that bad, is it?"

His grandfather looked at him with love, "Unfortunately, Eleanor, it is. The world is cruel, and people are even crueler. There are so many bad people and so few good ones..."

"But what do we do if the evil monster returns?"

His grandfather shrugged, "We must hope that the magicians also return and that the gods awaken again to save us."

"And what if they don't?" Eleanor asked anxiously.

"Then we are all damned," his grandfather replied bitterly, but when he saw the frightened look on his grandson's face, he smiled warmly.

"That's why we must not allow it. That's why we must take on the work of the magicians and remove the evil. Promise me, Eleanor, that you will never become evil, okay?"

Eleanor nodded eagerly, "Yes, Grandfather! I promise you, I will ensure that all the wicked people are punished!"

His grandfather laughed and left the room, "Now sleep, my little friend. See you tomorrow."

More than thirty years have passed since that day, but Eleanor still remembered every word his grandfather had said. Unfortunately, his grandfather died a year later during the great revolution.

Eleanor was dragged onto the stage. With every step he took, the people got more excited and cheered even louder, impatiently awaiting the show to finally begin. The high priest stepped forward and positioned himself at the edge of the grandstand to address the crowd once again.

"Thirty years ago, the great King Alexander liberated us from the tyranny of the mad monarch. He saved thousands of lives, and in his great and endless kindness, he spared the life of General Davis's grandson, Eleanor Davis, to give him a second chance. But how did Eleanor Davis repay his generosity? He murdered him.

Cold-bloodedly, he plunged a knife into his back while he was having a meal. For years, he had posed as one of his cooks, waiting for this exact moment. But he will not escape this atrocity! We have gathered here today to subject him to his rightful punishment and to let the Goddess of Death pass judgment on him!"

The people cheered and shouted as Eleanor was brought forward to the grandstand and forced to kneel down before them.

"One last time, I give you the chance to speak and confess your sins. One last time, I give you the chance to apologize and repent, so your soul may receive a slightly lesser punishment from the Goddess of Death!"

With that, the priest signaled to one of the guards, and the gag was removed from Eleanor's mouth.

Eleanor took a deep breath as his mouth was finally free again. Then he looked at the crowd gathered below him, surprisingly silent. They all waited for him to repent, but Eleanor would not give them that satisfaction. He smiled coldly and maliciously.

"Thank you, high priest, for taking the time to listen to my sins, but I will not repent."

"How dare you..." the priest started, but Eleanor interrupted him.

"I confess to the murder of the king, but it was by no means treacherous, and he wasn't even eating. He had once again brought another woman against her will into the palace to make her forcefully his own. I couldn't take it anymore, and I had to punish this corrupt swine. I forcefully thrust my knife into his fat throat, bloated with his undeserved wealth. What satisfaction it was to watch him die. I regret many things, but that is not one of them. He brought more suffering to this world than the mad monarch ever could. He killed so many people."

"GAG HIM IMMEDIATELY!" the priest shouted.

"But I am glad that I will die here. All my life, I fought to free this world from its corruption, but the more I dug, the more I realized: humanity cannot be saved anymore. That's why the gods and magicians abandoned us. They all saw it. I wouldn't be surprised if Chaos returns to this world, fueled by the hate and anger that YOU have spread, and this time, no god will come to your aid. I'm curious what your wealth will bring you when darkness descends. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to..."

One of the men grabbed him and stuffed the gag back into his mouth, silencing his speech. The crowd below was silent for a few seconds but then began to scream with hatred and anger.

The priest shook his head sadly, "Even in the face of death, you cling to your blasphemous words. Kind people, do not believe any of his words; he is trying to justify his madness. Neither was the holy king corrupt nor are there such things as magicians or the monster of chaos."

The priest sighed again.

"May the Goddess of Death judge you justly..."

The priest stepped back with a bowed head. The executioner, a tall muscular man with a black mask, approached with a long sword and placed it against Eleanor's neck. He was ready for death. He awaited it, knowing he had done what he could to save humanity, a humanity that could no longer be saved. He felt the draft as the executioner raised his sword. Then darkness fell.

But not only on Eleanor but on all the people in this place. The entire sky was covered by a massive shadow, and the bright sun was eclipsed.

Screams erupted from the crowd, and panic ensued. Eleanor felt something wet and viscous hit his neck, and he looked around only to see the executioner's head cleanly severed from his body. From the crowd, a person emerged, a young man with deep black hair and eyes as black as the abyss. He smiled faintly as he emerged from the darkness onto the grandstand.

"What fun!" the young man said with a smile. The guards rushed towards him as he reached the grandstand, but massive shadow tentacles shot out from his being, cleaving through the guards like blades. Within seconds, all the men on the grandstand were dead, except for Eleanor and the high priest.

Speaking of, the high priest stumbled backward in front of the young man.

"This cannot be. You are not real! YOU ARE NOT REAL! YOU ARE JUST A MYTH!" the high priest exclaimed.

The unknown man, darkness flowing from his hand, replied in a cold, raspy voice,

"Oh really? But I feel quite real and lively right now!"

He raised his hand, and a small stone within it began to glow. A cold breeze swept through the air. Eleanor's eyes widened as the space seemed to rip apart, revealing a completely different world. It was as if a painting of a gigantic fortress suspended in mid-air had been hung, but it was more than real.

"POLYKENAS!" the young man bellowed, "SLAUGHTER THEM ALL!"

And with that, creatures began pouring out of the portal. Thousands, no, millions of them. They descended upon the crowd, mercilessly slaughtering the people.

They hunted down every single one of them, but no matter how many of these creatures flowed out of the rift, there were always more.

They spread out in the four cardinal directions, like a tsunami, heading towards cities and countries, leaving no stone unturned.

The man looked at the high priest once again, who desperately ran away from him. But the man simply waved his hand, and a shadow formed like a rope around the priest's leg, causing him to stumble and fall hard on his chin.

He struggled and writhed as the shadow pulled him back towards the man of chaos.

"SRAM! LEAVE ME ALONE!" the priest screamed with tears in his eyes.

The young man shook his head and snapped his fingers.

With an awful sound, the priest's head was crushed by shadows. Then, this creature in the form of a human turned towards Eleanor.

Expecting death, Eleanor closed his eyes, but it did not happen. When Eleanor felt the warmth of the sun on his skin again, he opened his eyes in shock.

The shadows were gone, and the sky was clear. The rift in the sky was still present, but there was no trace of the man and his army.

One might think that Eleanor had imagined it all if it weren't for the strong metallic smell of blood in the air and, of course, the thousand corpses.

Eleanor stood up and realized that the chains had all been neatly severed. Eleanor looked up at the sky, full of shock. Then, he began to laugh. It was a laugh-filled with madness and relief. He had survived! He had actually survived the return of the monster of chaos!