Many thoughts come to Zeral mind about what humans did to his family...
"They killed my family, humans" Repeating those words as Zeral keep going to near city to him which was the city of Pilan and only one thing in his mind...
"I shall kill them all I shall end them for good" then he scream out "HAAAA!"
In the heart of the once-thriving city of Palin, Zeral's return heralded a torrent of chaos and destruction. The once serene streets filled with the screams of terrorized civilians as the former hero descended into madness.
Zeral's berserk rampage intensified. His movements were a blur as he tore through the streets with an otherworldly speed, leaving chaos and death in his wake. The air crackled with an unholy energy as he relentlessly pursued any soul unfortunate enough to cross his path.
As Zeral traversed the city, his every step left a trail of devastation. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burning structures, a testament to the fires ignited by his unbridled wrath. The city's once vibrant life now wilted under the weight of Zeral's vengeance.
Zeral's hands, once revered for their heroic feats, were now instruments of grisly demise. He smashed through the feeble attempts of desperate civilians and soldiers alike to fend him off. Bones shattered, and bodies crumpled like discarded puppets as he moved with the force of a malevolent hurricane.
He hurled rocks with deadly precision, each projectile finding its mark with lethal accuracy. The stones, propelled at incredible speed, cut through the air like bullets, instantly claiming the lives of soldiers who dared to oppose him. The ground trembled with the impact of the rocks, and the cityscape transformed into a nightmarish tableau of destruction.
He cared not for pleas or cries for mercy. Zeral's eyes, glowing with a malefic intensity, reflected only the abyss that now consumed his soul. His laughter, a distorted symphony of madness, echoed through the city, mingling with the agonized screams of those who fell prey to his relentless onslaught.
The speed at which Zeral moved was supernatural, a demonic dance that defied the laws of nature. Soldiers, despite their training and weaponry, found themselves helpless against the whirlwind of destruction that was Zeral. The few who attempted to stand their ground were dispatched with a brutality that defied description. Roaring with a feral ferocity, Zeral moved with unnatural pace, appearing and disappearing amid the chaos. His every strike was a swift and brutal execution, leaving no room for mercy. The few soldiers who managed to mount their horses and escape did so with the haunting images of their fallen comrades etched in their minds.
Blood splattered across the cobblestone streets, painting a gruesome tapestry of despair. Zeral's hands, now daubed in the crimson hue of his victims, moved with relentless precision. His fingers, like claws, ripped through flesh and bone, tearing apart any semblance of resistance. The ground beneath him became a hell, each step an echo of a life extinguished.
The once-bustling city now lay in ruins, its streets stained with the devastation aftermath of Zeral's frenzied assault. The air was thick with the scent of death and despair, a haunting reminder of the hero turned into an instrument of destruction. As Zeral continued his relentless massacre, the city of Palin sank further into the abyss, swallowed whole by the darkness that now embodied its former savior.
Buildings crumbled under Zeral's relentless assault, and the once-proud city became a graveyard of shattered dreams. The streets ran red with the blood of innocents and soldiers alike. Zeral's laughter, devoid of humanity, heard through the desolate cityscape, a haunting soundtrack to the carnage he wrought.
The city of Palin, once a symbol of life and prosperity, now bore witness to its own demise at the hands of its former protector. Zeral, consumed by a darkness beyond redemption, left behind a city in ruins and a populace gripped by the harrowing realization that the hero they once revered had become the harbinger of their darkest nightmares.
Amidst the wreckage and ruin of Palin, as Zeral savagely continued his onslaught, a chilling discovery awaited him. As he scavenged through the remnants of a once-vibrant dwelling, his eyes fell upon a small figure cowering beneath the fallen debris.
With a twisted smile playing on his lips, Zeral approached the trembling child. His voice, once a source of reassurance and heroism, now dripped with malevolence. "Oh, son, you lost?" he taunted, relishing in the child's fear.
The kid, paralyzed by terror, implored Zeral with quivering words, "Please don't hurt me."
Zeral, with a sadistic grin, retorted, "Naaah, I won't hurt you, but I will kill you."
Tears streamed down the child's face as he pleaded for mercy. "Please no, please," he whimpered, his voice a desperate melody of innocence.
Zeral, his eyes devoid of compassion, gazed at the child for a fleeting moment. A surge of haunting memories flickered in his mind, memories of a boy lost in time. He spoke, his voice tinged with a painful resonance, "I had a boy the same age as you years before. Did he beg for his life before he was killed? Why was he killed? Just why?" Tears welled in Zeral's eyes, but the emotion was as cold as the steel he wielded.
The child, oblivious to the complexities of Zeral's tortured past, continued to beg for his life. But mercy found no haven in Zeral's heart. With a callous smile etched on his face, Zeral unsheathed his sword.
The once-hero, now a heartless monster, raised his weapon, ready to extinguish the fragile flame of the child's existence. The cries of the pleading child reverberated through the desolation as Zeral embraced the role of the merciless executioner, a figure consumed by vengeance and devoid of empathy.
In the midst of the cruel scene, a sudden intrusion penetrated the darkness that enshrouded Zeral's mind. A voice, hauntingly familiar yet foreign, duplicated through his fractured consciousness—the anguished cry of his son, a scream of desperation that reverberated with a pain Zeral had never known.
As if struck by an unseen force, Zeral abruptly halted, his eyes widening in disbelief as he beheld the child before him. In that moment, the features of the young survivor transformed, melding with the visage of his lost son. The resemblance was uncanny, and Zeral, torn between the realms of reality and haunting illusions, uttered in disbelief, "This can't be you! What the hell is happening to me? Why do I feel this pain? Euuhhhhhh! This pain, euuuuhhhhh, why?"
The weight of an unfamiliar memory pressed upon Zeral's consciousness, a flashback unraveling before his eyes. He witnessed himself, a phantom in his own twisted recollection, running through a different town, his hands stained with the blood of the innocent—a ghastly scene that mirrored the carnage he had just wrought upon Palin.
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Fighting against the onslaught of conflicting emotions, Zeral grappled with the enigma of his own fragmented mind. "What is this? What's going on with me? What is this weird memory I just got?" he questioned, the torment evident in his anguished voice.
His attention returned to the child who, in a futile attempt to escape, had tried to slip away from the bar. Zeral, now gripped by a cruel resolve, seized a knife with swift precision. With a flick of his wrist, the blade sailed through the air, finding its mark in the unsuspecting child's head. "I didn't say you can leave," Zeral uttered coldly, the life extinguished from the young soul.
As the lifeless body crumpled to the ground, Zeral, having momentarily surrendered to the cruel forces that tormented him, regained his composure. He reached for the stolen wine, the remnants of the tavern he had visited before now nothing more than shattered memories and broken dreams. The liquid fire slid down his throat, its bitterness mingling with the darkness that lingered within. The voices of his son's distant cries and the haunting memories blended into a discordant symphony, leaving Zeral to drown his torment in the intoxicating embrace of forgotten spirits.
The three monsters, with eyes wide in disbelief, stood at the edge of the decimated city of Palin. The once-thriving streets now lay in ruin, a desolate landscape that bore the mark of a force beyond comprehension. In the span of a mere hour, Zeral had unleashed a cataclysm upon the city, leaving nothing but the echoes of despair and the ghosts of lives extinguished.
As the monsters surveyed the carnage, their very beings trembled in the wake of the unimaginable destruction. Buildings, once proud symbols of human achievement, now lay shattered and lifeless, something monsters never did. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burning remnants, and the silence that followed the storm of chaos was deafening.
One of the monsters, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what they had witnessed, couldn't contain the tears that welled in its eyes. It cried not for the fallen city but for the sheer terror that gripped its heart—an dreadful-inspiring fear of the force they had just witnessed.
The monsters exchanged glances, their expressions a mirror of collective shock and disbelief. The destruction wrought by Zeral transcended the boundaries of the known. It was a force beyond the comprehension of monsters, humans, or even gods. The magnitude of the devastation painted a portrait of true power, a power that eclipsed any force the monsters had encountered in their existence.
The city's demise was not a result of brute strength or monstrous might. It was a manifestation of something darker, something otherworldly—a force that defied the very laws of nature. The monsters, creatures of the fantastical, were rendered powerless witnesses to a level of destruction that seemed to emanate from a realm untouched by mortal or monster alike.
In the eyes of the monsters, the fear lingered—a fear that transcended physical harm, a fear of an entity that wielded power beyond comprehension. The destruction was not a mere attack. It was a revelation of the Zeralizion's true might, a force that left an indelible mark on the very fabric of their monstrous souls. The monsters, forever haunted by the scene before them, would carry the weight of witnessing the real power of Zeral into the depths of their monstrous existence.
Meanwhile, at Hirvan's cave, the news that Zeral attacking humans! made them celebrating their victory, Hirvan himself told his fellow monsters
The three monsters, their hearts still pounding with the fear of the destruction they had witnessed, raced back to the lair of Hirvan, the druid who had summoned them to join the war. The shadows of fear clung to their monstrous forms, and the weight of the news they carried seemed to bear down on them like an unseen force.
As they entered the cavernous lair, the other monsters looked up, sensing the aura of dread that surrounded the returning trio. The air was thick with anticipation, and an uneasy hush fell over the assembled horde.
Hirvan, seated on a gnarled throne of twisted roots, regarded the returning monsters with an inscrutable expression. His eyes, usually filled with a sinister glow, were now fixated on the trio as if he could discern the nature of the calamity they had witnessed.
The lead monster, its voice shaking, relayed the horrors they had seen—the obliteration of Palin, the merciless onslaught, and the inexplicable power that Zeral wielded. The monsters gathered around listened in horrified silence as the tale unfolded, the dread in the air becoming palpable.
For a moment, Hirvan remained silent, absorbing the weight of the information. The monsters feared his reaction, unsure of whether he would be pleased or enraged by the revelation. Then, unexpectedly, a smile crept across Hirvan's face—a sinister, triumphant grin that sent shivers down the spines of those who beheld it.
"The end of humans is near," Hirvan declared, his voice carrying an unsettling mix of satisfaction and anticipation. The monsters, still gripped by the terror they had witnessed, exchanged uneasy glances. Hirvan, however, seemed to revel in the chaos Zeral had unleashed upon the human realm.
As the monsters absorbed the implications of their druid's reaction, a sense of foreboding settled over them. The once-united front against humanity now harbored seeds of doubt and trepidation. In the lair of monsters, a new era seemed to dawn—one where the looming shadow of Zeral's unfathomable power cast its ominous silhouette over both humans and their monstrous adversaries.
Hirvan, his sinister grin stretching wider, stood before his assembled horde of monsters, their eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and anticipation. The revelation of Zeral's destructive power had ignited something in the druid—an ambition that transcended the mortal realm.
"My loyal subjects," Hirvan's voice goes on through the cavern, carrying an air of authority. "The time has come for a new world order, a world ruled by divine beings, untouched by the chaos of humans and their petty wars. I shall be the god of this new world, a realm of purity and power."
The monsters exchanged wary glances, their apprehension growing with each word uttered by their druid. The promise of a new world order, governed by Hirvan as its deity, sparked a flicker of doubt among the horde. Yet, their fear of Zeral's might outweighed their skepticism, and they remained tethered to the dark ambitions of their leader.
Hirvan continued, his words dripping with confidence, "As for Zeral, I have foreseen his path, and I know the key to his demise. He may be powerful, but his strength has its vulnerabilities. If he dares to come after us, I shall unleash a force upon him that even he cannot withstand."
The monsters listened intently, hope mingling with their trepidation. Hirvan's assurance of a solution to Zeral's seemingly invincible power offered a glimmer of relief. The druid's eyes gleamed with a malevolent light as he reveled in the fear and loyalty of his monstrous followers.
"As we usher in this new era, remember that I shall be your god, and together, we shall triumph over the remnants of the old world," Hirvan declared, his voice echoing through the cavern, sealing the fate of the monsters in allegiance to a god who promised dominion over a realm yet to be shaped—a realm of holy beings and unholy ambitions.
In the midst of Hirvan's proclamation, a sudden silence fell upon the cavern. The monsters turned, their eyes widening in disbelief as a shadow darker than the cave's depths loomed at the entrance. Zeral, the harbinger of destruction, stood before them, his presence commanding an eerie stillness.
Hirvan's confident expression wavered for a moment, but he quickly regained composure, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Zeral, you've come to witness the birth of a new world, I presume," the druid declared, his words dripping with arrogance.
Zeral remained silent, his gaze fixed on Hirvan with an intensity that cut through the cavern's ominous atmosphere. The monsters, caught between the allegiance they had sworn to their druid and the indomitable force that was Zeral, watched in uneasy anticipation.
With deliberate steps, Zeral advanced into the cavern, each footfall reiterating with a weight that seemed to reverberate through the very core of the earth. The air thickened with tension as the two formidable beings stood face to face.
"What is this, Zeral? Are you here to pledge your allegiance to the new order, or are you foolishly challenging the inevitable?" Hirvan sneered, attempting to mask the unease that flickered in his eyes.
Zeral's response came not in words but in an sinister silence that hung heavily in the air. The monsters, caught between the clash of these titanic forces, awaited the unfolding of a conflict that could reshape the destiny of both monsters and humans.
As the scale of the confrontation lingered in the cavern, a question lingered, unanswered and foreboding: What will happen next in this clash of gods and monsters, in this struggle for dominance that threatened to consume the remnants of an old world and birth a new one, shrouded in uncertainty?
the end.