The town lay in ruins, a grim testament to the horrors wrought by the horde of golems and chimera ants.
Buildings crumbled into rubble, their walls torn asunder.
Flames licked at the remnants of what were once homes, casting flickering shadows over the streets littered with shattered glass and broken lives.
The cries of the fallen had long faded, leaving an eerie silence broken only by the relentless stomping of stone feet and the skittering of monstrous limbs.
In the heart of it all stood Cyrus, an unmoving figure amid the chaos.
His black cloak swayed in the wind as his eyes, cold and detached, scanned the devastation.
The air was thick with the stench of destruction—smoke, blood, and ash mingling into a suffocating smell.
It was all too familiar.
This scene mirrored his dream.
The screams, the destruction, the desperate hunters struggling against a force they couldn’t hope to match—it was all the same.
And yet, as he stood there, Cyrus felt nothing. No guilt, no remorse, no pity.
Only the dull anticipation of what was to come.
A flutter of wings broke his reverie as Krothe, his crow companion, descended from the smoke-filled sky.
Its feathers shimmered with an unnatural iridescence, reflecting the faint demonic energy radiating from its body.
"Kaw! They are coming in this direction," Krothe announced, its voice sharp and grating.
Cyrus nodded, his lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Good."
He turned his gaze to the horde surrounding him.
The golems, massive constructs of stone and metal, moved with terrifying precision, smashing through whatever remained of the town.
The chimera ants, grotesque abominations with segmented bodies and jagged pincers, swarmed over the ruins, their mandibles clicking hungrily.
Cyrus raised a hand, and the creatures paused briefly, their monstrous heads tilting toward him as if awaiting orders.
"Finish it quickly," he commanded, his voice devoid of emotion. "And prepare for their arrival."
At his words, the horde redoubled its efforts. Golems smashed through walls with devastating force, and chimera ants surged forward, dragging the last remnants of the town into oblivion.
Buildings that had withstood the initial assault were reduced to rubble in seconds.
Any lingering survivors were silenced beneath the relentless tide of destruction.
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When the hunters finally arrived, they were greeted by a scene of utter devastation.
The town they had rushed to protect was no more.
Broken homes stood as skeletons of their former selves, their shattered frames silhouetted against the flickering glow of fires.
Bodies lay strewn across the ground—men, women, and children who had been caught in the onslaught.
The hunters, hardened by countless battles, still felt their hearts sink at the sight of the lifeless faces staring up at them.
But it wasn’t just the destruction that chilled them.
Standing in the center of the ruins were the culprits—the remaining golems and chimera ants, fewer in number but far more imposing.
Among them stood a tall chimera ant, a grotesque creature that loomed over the others.
It stood upright on two legs, its black carapace gleaming like polished obsidian.
Dark energy radiated from its form, the unmistakable signature of demonic corruption.
Its multifaceted eyes glowed with an unnatural light, and its jagged claws clicked menacingly as it surveyed the hunters.
Nearby, an unusual crow perched on a broken beam, its crimson eyes watching the hunters with unsettling intelligence.
It cawed once, a sound that seemed almost mocking, as if it reveled in the despair around it.
Beside it was a small golem, no larger than a child but radiating an aura of malevolence far beyond its size.
Its cracked surface pulsed faintly with dark energy, its glowing core visible through the fractures in its stone body.
But what drew the hunters’ attention most was the figure standing amidst the monsters.
The man from the video—the dungeon boss—the architect of the nightmare before them.
Cyrus stood with an air of calm indifference, as though the annihilation of the town was nothing more than a minor inconvenience to him.
His presence was oppressive, his aura a suffocating mixture of power and apathy.
One of the hunters gasped audibly, their voice trembling as they spoke.
"It’s him... he’s behind this."
Cyrus's gaze shifted lazily toward them, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Ah, you’ve arrived," he said, his tone as casual as if he were welcoming old friends.
The hunters braced themselves, gripping their weapons tightly.
Their hearts pounded with a mix of fear and anger as they stared down the man who had orchestrated this atrocity.
And Cyrus? He simply waited, his expression unchanging, as if he already knew how the battle would end.
Scarlet stood amidst the ruins, her fiery hair whipping in the wind as her sharp gaze scanned the devastation.
The sight of lifeless bodies—men, women, children—strewn across the rubble filled her with a rage so intense that she could barely breathe.
Her fists clenched, and the flames dancing around her flared brighter, a reflection of her anger.
She stepped forward, her voice trembling not with fear, but with fury.
"Why are you doing this?" she demanded, her tone cutting through the heavy air like a blade.
Cyrus turned to her, his expression one of almost bored amusement.
A smirk played on his lips as though her anger was nothing more than a child's tantrum.
He chuckled—a low, mirthless sound.
"Isn’t it obvious?" he replied, his tone light yet chilling. "If I don’t, then I will die."
His words hung in the air, stark and unapologetic.
To Cyrus, it wasn’t a justification—it was simply a fact.
Scarlet’s brow furrowed, her anger now tinged with confusion. "What are you even talking about?"
Cyrus tilted his head, his gaze distant as though he was peering into a memory.
"I understand your confusion," he began, his voice carrying an odd mix of bitterness and resignation.
"After all, once... I was also human."
The words hit Scarlet like a blow.
Her anger faltered for a moment, replaced by shock.
"What?" she asked, her voice softer now, disbelieving. "What do you mean? You’re lying."
Cyrus gave a dry laugh, his eyes cold.
"Oh, it’s not a lie. But you wouldn’t understand, even if I explained it to you. And either way..."
His voice dropped, his smile turning grim.
"...it’s too late."
The hunters watched him in uneasy silence, the weight of his words pressing down on them.
Cyrus began pacing slowly, his hands clasped behind his back.
"At first, I thought there might be a way to coexist. To live peacefully, unnoticed. I didn’t want this war. But then your kind—the hunters—raided my dungeon."
His voice darkened, and the air around him seemed to thicken with malevolence.
"What was I supposed to do? Let myself die? No. I defended myself. I killed them. And then more hunters came, and I killed them too."
Scarlet’s fists trembled as he spoke, her flames flickering erratically.
The weight of his words was undeniable, and yet it sickened her.
Cyrus stopped and turned to face her, his expression unreadable.
"Tell me this, hunter—can you forgive me for what I’ve done? For killing your comrades, your friends?"
The question echoed in the silence, but Cyrus didn’t wait for an answer.
He already knew it.
"No," he said, answering his own question, his voice colder than before.
"And I don’t want your forgiveness." His gaze swept over the hunters, his smirk returning.
"There’s only one way for me to survive now. I must either rule over everything... or destroy it all."
His words were a declaration, an unshakable truth.
Scarlet’s flames surged around her as her anger reignited.
"You’ve lost your humanity," she spat, her voice sharp. "You’ve become a true monster."
Cyrus gave her a pitying look, as though her words were meaningless to him.
"Perhaps I have," he said softly. "But it changes nothing. If you want to stop me..."
He raised his hand, the green energy around him flaring ominously.
His monsters stirred in response—golems lumbering forward, chimera ants clicking their pincers in unison.
Their eyes glowed with demonic energy, their movements coordinated as they closed in on the hunters.
"...then you’ll have to fight."
With that signal, the horde surged forward, the ground trembling beneath their advance.
The hunters braced themselves, gripping their weapons tightly as the clash became inevitable.