The dark forest was a battlefield drenched in the stench of death. Bodies of knights, now lifeless, littered the ground, their once proud armor now tarnished and bloodied. The thick canopy above allowed only slivers of moonlight to pierce through, casting eerie shadows on the scene below. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest. The sounds of the forest were replaced by the distant roars of beasts and the agonized cries of dying men.
Amidst the chaos, three knights fought valiantly, their backs against each other as they faced the onslaught of demonic beasts. The night was alive with the clash of steel and the growls of monsters. But the battle was far from even.
One of the knights, breathing heavily, was taken by surprise when a cursed blood wolf lunged at him from behind. The beast’s fangs sank into his neck, severing his spine with a sickening crunch. His sword slipped from his grasp, and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. The other knight, unaware of his comrade’s demise, focused on a demon that towered over him. With a battle cry, he thrust his sword forward, aiming for the demon’s heart. But the creature, with unnatural speed, caught the blade in its hand. Before the knight could react, the demon delivered a bone-shattering punch to his head, twisting it at an unnatural angle. His body fell limply to the ground, joining the growing pile of corpses.
The last knight, having witnessed the gruesome deaths of his comrades, felt a cold wave of fear wash over him. His breath quickened, and his hands trembled. Panic set in, and without thinking, he turned to flee, screaming that he didn’t want to die. His retreat was short-lived. A cursed blood wolf, moving with deadly speed, caught up to him, its jaws locking onto his leg. The knight screamed in terror, thrashing desperately to free himself, but the wolf held firm. Three more cursed blood wolves pounced on him, dragging him to the ground. His screams of agony echoed through the forest, but they were soon silenced as the beasts tore into him, feeding on his flesh.
The gruesome feast was interrupted by a sudden, powerful impact. The captain of the knights descended upon the wolves with the force of a falling star, crushing two of the beasts beneath his boots. The remaining wolves were flung back by the shockwave. Without missing a beat, the captain lunged at one of the recovering wolves, his sword flashing through the air. The blade pierced the wolf’s mouth, cleaving its skull in two. As blood sprayed from the split skull, the final wolf attempted to attack the captain from behind. But the captain, with lightning reflexes, spun around and caught the wolf by its neck. With a single, powerful stroke, he sliced the beast in half, sending a torrent of blood splattering across the ground.
As the captain stood amidst the carnage, panting heavily, a monstrous ogre and several demons charged at him. With a roar of both fury and exhilaration, the captain met them head-on. He ducked beneath the wild swing of an ogre’s club, driving his sword through the beast’s chest and out its back. With a twist of his blade, he eviscerated the ogre, spilling its entrails onto the forest floor. A demon leaped at him from the side, but the captain sidestepped, decapitating the creature with a swift upward slash. Blood sprayed like a fountain, painting the night in crimson. Another ogre swung a massive fist at him, but the captain dodged and retaliated with a slash that severed the ogre’s arm at the elbow. The beast howled in pain, but before it could react, the captain delivered a final, fatal blow, cleaving its head clean off.
But as the captain relished in his victories, he felt a sudden disturbance in the air. He barely managed to dodge as a massive axe cleaved through the spot where he had just stood, the force of the blow obliterating the ground and killing an ogre and two demons caught in its wake. The captain’s eyes widened in shock as he turned to face the source of the attack. Emerging from the shadows was an ogre unlike any he had faced before. This one had brown skin and was covered in scars, each one a testament to countless battles. The ogre grinned wickedly as he wrenched his axe from the ground.
“Finally,” the ogre growled, his voice a deep rumble, “a worthy opponent to clash blades with me.”
The captain, regaining his composure, noticed that the remaining demons and ogres had ceased their attack. They stood back, watching, as if waiting for something. Sensing the significance of this, the captain addressed the ogre, his voice steady. “What is your purpose here? What is your agenda?” He knew this ogre held authority over the others.
The ogre chuckled darkly, pointing his massive axe at the captain. “I’ll answer your questions… if your sword can reach my body.”
The captain narrowed his eyes, realizing that words would get him nowhere. This ogre would only speak if bested in combat. With a surge of anger, he gripped his sword tighter. “For what you and your monsters have done to my men, I will kill you here and now.”
The ogre’s grin widened, filled with bloodlust. “Then do your best, human. Entertain me!”
With a battle cry, the captain charged at the ogre, his sword flashing in the dim light. He struck with all his might, his blade a blur as he aimed for every weak point he could find. But the ogre deflected each strike with ease, laughing as he did so. “Yes! Fight me, human! Show me what you’ve got!”
Seeing an opening, the captain aimed for the ogre’s lower abdomen, but before his blade could connect, the ogre delivered a swift punch. The captain dodged it, but the force of the blow sent him skidding backward. The ogre laughed again. “If you hadn’t dodged, you’d be dead by now, human!”
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Breathing heavily, the captain knew he had to end this quickly. He focused his energy, and his sword began to glow with a brilliant blue flame. From above, Lilith, who had been observing the battle from the air, raised an eyebrow in interest. “Interesting,” she murmured.
The ogre, seeing the captain’s sword ignite with blue flames, nodded in approval. “Impressive swordsmanship, human. But do you think that will be enough to kill me?”
The captain, determination burning in his eyes, replied, “If this doesn’t kill you, then I’ve failed my men.”
The ogre, sensing the captain’s resolve, grinned wickedly. “Let’s end this, then.”
The captain lunged forward, aiming for the ogre’s heart. But unknown to him, Lilith had already begun weaving her dark magic. Just as the captain was about to strike, the blue flames surrounding his sword extinguished, leaving him wide-eyed in shock. The ogre seized the opportunity, charging forward. He allowed the captain’s blade to pierce his side but used his massive strength to deliver a crushing punch to the captain’s chest.
The captain was sent flying back, his body slamming into the ground with a sickening thud. Blood spurted from his mouth, and his vision blurred. As he lay there, struggling to stay conscious, he saw a blurry figure approaching—the ogre, with Lilith at his side. She glanced at the wounded captain and then at the ogre, a smirk playing on her lips. “You should be thankful I helped you, Wrath,” she said.
Wrath, ignoring her, pulled the captain’s sword from his side and looked down at the dying man. “Rest well, human. You fought bravely, but you and your men deserved what was coming to you.”
The captain, his life fading, listened to Wrath’s words. “This… this is truly a monster,” he thought to himself. In his final moments, he hoped that the slaves and his vice-captain were safe. With a final sigh, he closed his eyes and died.
Wrath, sensing the captain’s death, turned away. Lilith, still chattering, followed him, continuing her tirade about how he should be grateful. But as Wrath’s anger grew, he stopped and shot her a deathly glare, his eyes burning with fury.
“If you ever interfere in my fight again,” Wrath growled, his voice low and dangerous, “I will be the one to kill you.”
Lilith, flinching under his gaze, said nothing as Wrath walked away, leaving her behind. She stared after him, her expression shifting from annoyance to anger. “That’s how you thank someone?” she shouted after him, her voice filled with frustration.
In another part of the forest, two knights are leading a group of slaves through the dense woods under the pale moonlight. The group consists of beastmen, women, men, and even some mothers carrying their babies, all running desperately for their lives. The knights stay at the back, protecting the group as best as they can. Despite the urgency, Rapheal, who had been unconscious, begins to stir. He awakens, disoriented and confused, but quickly becomes aware of the terrifying reality: a pack of cursed blood wolves and ogres are closing in on them, their snarls and heavy footsteps echoing in the night.
As they run, they abruptly reach a dead end—a sheer cliff with water roaring below. The slaves stop in their tracks, fear spreading through them like wildfire. Some begin to cry out in despair, while others stand frozen in shock. The two knights, faces grim, turn to face the approaching monsters. Rapheal slips from the young knight’s arms, now fully awake and witnessing the chaos around him.
The slaves begin to panic. Their voices rise in terror, some shouting that there’s no escape, while others clutch their loved ones, the cries of babies piercing the night air. The older of the two knights, a rugged man with a scar across his cheek and a stern expression, tries to calm them. He tells them they have no choice but to jump into the water below, but his words only heighten their fear. They look at the cliff’s edge and then back at the approaching wolves, their minds caught between two horrific options.
The suggestion was met with immediate resistance. "Are you mad? We'll die if we jump!" a slave woman cried out, echoing the fear in everyone’s eyes. The wolves were now dangerously close, their snarls growing louder.
Amidst the growing fear, a chubby man—one of the slaves Rapheal had previously bitten—steps forward. He points a trembling finger at the knights, his voice thick with accusation. "If it wasn’t for you knights destroying our homes, we wouldn’t be here! You should jump and die, not us!"
The crowd, driven by fear and desperation, begins to shout at the knights. Rapheal, witnessing this selfishness and realizing the wolves are nearly upon them, feels a surge of anger. Ignoring the calls of the knights to stay calm, Rapheal acts on instinct. With a burst of speed, he charges at the chubby man, his eyes blazing with fury.
The man, thinking Rapheal intended to jump off the cliff, opens his mouth to shout, but Rapheal’s claws pierce his stomach before he can react. The man’s scream fills the night as Rapheal, driven by anger and a desperate need to protect himself, plunges his claws deeper, silencing the man’s cries forever.
The slaves gasp in shock, but their horror is short-lived. The wolves have reached them. Chaos erupts as the beasts begin tearing through the crowd. The air fills with the sounds of screams, growls, and the sickening crunch of bones. One of the knights, seeing the carnage, lets out a curse and charges at the wolves, his sword flashing in the moonlight. He fights valiantly, cutting down several wolves with swift, brutal strikes, but their numbers overwhelm him. The cursed blood wolves pounce from all sides, their jaws snapping shut on his limbs and tearing him apart, piece by piece.
Meanwhile, Rapheal, now standing over the lifeless body of the chubby man, is grabbed by the young knight who had carried him earlier. The knight pulls Rapheal close, his voice urgent but filled with a sorrowful resolve. “You have to survive,” he says, his eyes filled with a strange mix of fear and determination. With a final, small smile, the knight pushes Rapheal off the cliff, sacrificing himself to the oncoming wolves.
As Rapheal falls, he watches in horror as the wolves descend upon the young knight. The knight fights back, but the beasts overpower him quickly, their fangs sinking into his flesh, tearing him apart as his blood sprays into the night air. Rapheal’s scream echoes as he plummets into the cold, rushing water below. The current grabs hold of him, pulling him under as bodies of the fallen slaves join him in the river, their lifeless forms swept away by the relentless tide.