Zeral knelt on the battlefield, his hands stained with the blood of those he had slain. The weight of regret inscribed across his face, every drop of crimson a testament to the lives he had extinguished. His eyes, haunted by the memories of the fallen, reflected a deep well of pain and internal conflict.

In this moment of vulnerability, the king approached Zeral with care variegated on his face. "Adomas, Antoryan's hero, I'm sorry for what you are going through. If you still blame me for everything that has happened to you, here I am—kill me, but don't attack the rest. They had nothing to do with all of this."

Zeral remained silent, torn between the urge for vengeance and the acknowledgment of the king's remorse. The air was thick with unspoken tension as he rose to his feet, standing before the king. His expression remained unreadable, a mixture of pain, anger, and the burden of decisions made.

The king, undeterred by the gravity of the situation, implored Zeral, "Where are you going?" His voice carried a mix of urgency and genuine concern, uncertain of Zeral's next move.

As Zeral walked away from the king, his footsteps heavy with the weight of his internal struggles, the king's plea cut through the heavy silence. "Can you please help us?" The request lingered in the air, a fragile hope seeking an unlikely ally.

Zeral halted and turned, his gaze meeting the king's. "I just want to die. Nothing more," he uttered, his words laden with the despair that clung to him.

The king, determined to sway Zeral from the precipice of self-destruction, attempted to persuade him with a vision of redemption. "But you can be a hero that saves humanity. You can help us and be the watchguard for the peace I seek. You can be the one that I always wanted to be... you can even be a king."

The proclamation hung in the air, leaving everyone in shocked disbelief. Zeral, his expression a mix of cynicism and self-loathing, replied, "A hero? A king? Nah, not after the damage I've done." The words of his past misdeeds seemed insurmountable, clouding any glimpse of a different future.

The king, desperate to find a resolution that didn't involve further bloodshed, pleaded with sincerity. "You can help us, and then we will find a way to heal you and turn you back into a human."

Zeral regarded this offer with a cynical smile. "Heal me? How about I bring you that damned book from Hirvan, and you try to read it and kill me. He promised me that, so what is your offer?"

Quickly, the king responded, "We have druids!"

Zeral, his anger flaring, interrupted sharply, "Mention them again, and I will kill everyone. You didn't want to give their location, it's your choice. But me getting help from the people who killed my family, that will not happen. I'd rather kill them all for that. That's my choice."

The king, seeking a path to understanding, appealed for peace. "Please, we aren't sure who did this. To think about it, yes, they can do such damage. But why? Why the target only Batrak? Why didn't they join Hirvan directly when he started this war, and instead, they chose to come and hide? Why is Hirvan trying to kill them all?"

Zeral, with a somber knowledge, answered, "I know he's afraid of them."

The king added, "Yes, he is, because they know how to kill him and probably will help you too if you get them the book. Also, there is another book somewhere in the north."

Zeral's contemplative expression shifted to realization. "Is that so? It makes sense now why I noticed a lot of monsters searching the ruins of old cities in the north. I even met a few in Batrak. They aren't looking for humans, they were looking for something else..." The puzzle pieces of the unfolding mystery began to align in his mind.

The king continued, unveiling a surprising proposition that left everyone in disbelief. "Yes, he is afraid of them, and now if you join us, we can end his reign of terror just by killing him and leaving the rest of the monsters. I will try to find peace with them as well..." The shocking revelation echoed through the onlookers, prompting Erik to interject in disbelief, "What, my lord? But they are monsters!"

The king contemplates, "Perhaps only for the time being. But if Hirvan is eliminated, they will be without a leader. Remember, they were once human. If any of them choose to return to our side, we must extend a welcoming hand."

Erik attempts to interject with concerns, but the king swiftly interrupts, urging, "Please!"

The king, with a plea in his eyes, interrupted Erik, saying, "Please!" He then turned to those behind him, expressing his weariness. "I'm tired... tired of all of this. It pains me to see my people torn apart, wars and conflicts all the time. I want peace in this land." Tears streamed down his face as he continued, "I'm done with all of these battles. I've spent all my life fighting, and I want peace for my kids and the kids of everyone. I want eternal peace between everyone."

Zeral, unyielding in his realism, interjected, "Peace can't be forever. Even if monsters won this war and ended humanity, I'm sure they will have conflicts among themselves, even under Hirvan's eyes. It is the nature of humans, and if monsters are humans too, then it makes no difference."

He then shared the haunting story of waking up in the river, enduring the persistent pain every day. "I wake up with my eternal body burning up inside me. I feel like I'm dying from the inside. The pain I never felt even when that beast killed me in the cave. I had to live with this pain since then, and I got used to it. But today, the pain goes deeper since I remember pictures of my family, my old friends, and myself."

With a heavy heart, he added, "This pain will go on forever too, unless I die. If I help you watch over the peace, I will kill more and more, and the pain will continue. It's an eternal hell no one shall feel. There is no end to this." The grim reality of Zeral's existence cast a shadow over the aspirations for lasting peace.

The revelation of Zeral's eternal pain hung in the air, a heavy shroud of shock and sadness settling over those who witnessed the disclosure. Here stood a man seemingly invincible, a figure resembling a god in his formidable strength, immune to external threats. Yet, within the confines of his powerful exterior, he grappled with an unrelenting, internal torment that left him in perpetual agony.

The onlookers, struck by the stark contrast between Zeral's imposing presence and the vulnerability exposed by his suffering, couldn't help but sympathize with his plight. A profound understanding of his desperate wish permeated the atmosphere, casting a somber veil over the assembled individuals. It was a moment where the facade of strength crumbled, revealing the human vulnerability beneath, and a collective empathy emerged for the man who bore the weight of an eternal pain no one could fathom.

Zeral stood amidst the gathering, his eyes reflecting the weight of untold suffering. With a voice heavy with the burden of memories, he began to recount the harrowing tale of his existence.

"I woke up in a river," he started, the words carrying the chill of the water and the disorientation of awakening without memories. "No recollections of who I was or where I came from, just pain and agony duplicating inside me." His gaze drifted into the distance, reliving the haunted moments.

"The pain was excruciating, like my insides were tearing apart. I felt like I was dying from the inside out, and there was no escape, no relief. I couldn't find a way to stop it," Zeral continued, the rawness of his experience evident in his every word.

The crowd listened in silence as he described the journey of learning to live with this unending torment. "I had no choice but to adapt, to focus on the only thing that gave me temporary reprieve – hitting and killing anything in my path. The physical pain became a distraction, a way to momentarily forget the insufferable agony that consumed me."

Zeral's eyes darkened as he delved into the most haunting part of his tale. "Images of my son and wife haunt me every waking moment. I can't sleep, I can't taste or smell anything. I even pretend to myself that I loved the wineI drank with no taste. I am just a shadow, a hollow, immortal body consumed by eternal pain." The anguish in his voice from the depths of his torment.

"It's why I call myself Zeral," he concluded, the name resonating with the past he could not fully grasp. "A name to signify leaving behind the person I once was, a mere echo of a memory lost to the relentless cruelty of my existence." The gravity of Zeral's story settled over the onlookers, leaving them to contemplate the profound tragedy of his immortal, tormented existence.

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A heavy silence hung in the air as the weight of Zeral's tortured existence settled over the assembly. The king's face mirrored the collective sadness etched on the others who listened intently. Empathy painted their expressions as they absorbed the profound tragedy of Zeral's immortal suffering.

"I understand what you felt," the king began, his voice carrying a sincerity that cut through the heaviness of the moment. "That's why I want the druids to help you, to try to heal you. And if they can't, they will find a way to end this immortality curse and send you to your family."

Zeral, his anger still simmering, retorted, "Druids again?"

"Listen to me, please," the king implored, a deep earnestness in his eyes. He then began to share a story he had kept locked away, a tale that only Elena had heard before.

He recounted the time when he was a young child, much like Zeral's son, and had unknowingly eaten poisoned fruits in the outskirts of Batrak. The river, tainted by toxins that claimed many lives, includng Erik's entire family, left the young prince on the brink of death. Desperate, his father sought help from Elena's father, who was healer, despite his best efforts, couldn't cure the prince. The king had to make an unconventional choice to save his son – he summoned a druid he captured who willingly trying to cure the river.

In a vulnerable moment, the king described how the druid, captured by his soldiers, had shown compassion and promise. The druid, facing his own impending fate, apologized for the actions of others and vowed to save the prince. The druid worked tirelessly to cleanse the poisoned river and heal the young prince. Just before being taken away, he expressed regret for the pain inflicted upon the child.

He tried to save me with everything he could and he did and then before the soldiers put chains in his arm and take him away he told me

"I apologize, my child, that you had to endure this, even though you are a prince who will be strong king someday will hunt my kind. I could have left you to die, even ended you, for I knew I was dying after this. But I am not a monster! We druids always strive to aid humans, though some among us can cause harm." With a tenderness that belied the gravity of the situation, he encouraged him to sleep and rest. Then, with tears in his eyes, he pressed a gentle kiss to the prince's forehead before departing, leaving David to watch in agonizing silence.

The king's eyes held a haunted look as he continued, revealing the aftermath of that desperate decision. "A few days later, I was healed. The druid got burned shortly after saving me. His face and voice still haunt me. I owe him my life." Then he added "But thats when I met Elena who were there for me each morning until I was healed" He looked towards Elena in the present, a glimpse of love and gratitude in his eyes as she smiles back.

"When I became king," the monarch continued, "I took a solemn oath to end this war, to bring peace between us and the druids. I know some of them can cause harm, but some are good, and they will help you, Adomas! Take this as their way of forgiveness for what happened to your family. Killing all druids will not bring your family back, neither Erik's family, nor my soldiers who died in the war. Killing has never been the answer."

Then the king retold the story of the beginning of the longest war in humans hisotry "My grandfather started a war that claimed millions over a century because of one evil druid who killed his wife. We must learn from the past and always strive to find peace for a better future. Enough of deaths from wars in this land." The king's plea for understanding and reconciliation lingered in the hearts of those present, challenging the cycle of violence that had plagued their world for far too long.

As the weight of Zeral's and the king's stories settled over the gathering, a poignant stillness hung in the air. Tears glistened in the eyes of those who had listened, shimmering reflections of shared sorrow, regret, and empathy.

In Zeral's eyes, there were tears of bitter memories, an endless ocean of pain that he had carried for centuries. Each drop seemed to bring the countless lives lost and the perpetual torment he bore.

The king, despite his regal composure, couldn't conceal the tears that welled in his eyes as he laid bare a painful chapter of his past. His tears spoke of remorse, the haunting memories of a druid's sacrifice, and the weight of the decisions made in the pursuit of a better future.

Elena, her eyes mirroring a mixture of compassion and love, shed tears for the man she had grown to care for, understanding the agony that haunted him. Princess Donatella, in her youthful innocence, wept for the hero she once idolized, now transformed into a tortured soul.

The other onlookers, soldiers, and generals alike, found tears in their eyes as the stories unfolded. The shared grief connected them, transcending differences and fostering a collective understanding of the complexities that had led to this moment.

Tears, silent messengers of the profound emotions stirred by the revelations, bridged the gap between the characters, forming an unspoken bond that transcended the tumultuous history that had brought them to this fateful juncture.

In the aftermath of the heart-wrenching revelations, a profound silence enveloped the assembly. The weight of shared pain and understanding lingered in the air, connecting the characters in a moment of shared vulnerability.

Breaking the silence, the king's voice resonated with unwavering determination. "Adomas, you can call yourself Zeral, but for me, you will always be that hero who stood by my side when I needed him. You will always be a hero and a symbol of bravery in my kingdom. I fully understand you, and thus, I want to help you. Bring me the book from Hirvan. Try to convince him to surrender, and if he refuses, put him out of his misery. Then, I will send you the druids to seek the answers you need about Batrak's destruction, and they will help you to cure yourself."

Zeral's response was laced with a resolve born from centuries of pain. "If they know who killed my family, they will answer me, or I will kill them one by one until I find who did it. Then, I will immediately avenge my family and leave the rest. If they help me end this, I will forgive them. But if they fail, I will devour them all."

The king, with a plea for peace, implored, "Please, no more killing."

However, Zeral, unyielding in his quest for closure, interrupted the king. "I don't take orders from you or Hirvan. I appreciate you keeping my name as a legend, but I am not Adomas anymore. I want people to remember Adomas, the brave warrior and legend, to tell for generations. That's my legacy. All I want now is to die, no matter the cost. I will bring you the book from Hirvan and end this war there."

The king, recognizing the depth of Zeral's conviction, agreed with a resigned acceptance. "I think I have no power to change your mind, but I respect your decision."

Zeral responded with a melancholic smile, acknowledging the king's pursuit of peace. "Me too. I respect you for the peace you seek. You are truly the greatest king of Antorya. I wish you will reach it someday." The exchange left a lingering sense of inevitability, as two individuals, each driven by their own convictions, embarked on separate paths in pursuit of resolution and redemption.

Zeral's gaze shifted to the aftermath of his destructive rampage—the fallen bodies and the unyielding firestorm that raged on. A rare moment of remorse colored his words as he spoke with an unexpected sincerity.

"Well, I've never apologized for anything since I became this beast, but for the first time, I will say sorry for all the destruction and people I killed, including all the brave men who tried to stop me. Even that hellfire didn't burn me but left a mark on history... I hope your druids have a way to end that fire, otherwise, it will keep burning for years and years as a reminder of the fallen there. Even rain won't take it off."

The solemnity in his voice felt the weight of his actions, a reluctant acknowledgment of the havoc wrought in the pursuit of his elusive quest for answers and redemption.

The king responded with a quiet confidence, "Yes, they will."

As Zeral prepared to leave, his departure was abruptly halted by the anguished cry of Donatella. She rushed forward, retrieving the knife she had thrown at him earlier. Holding it out to him, she declared, "Take this as a reminder of your son. I don't need it. My hero is dead anyway."

Zeral's laughter echoed, "Hahaha, it's you again." The levity faded, and he adopted a serious expression, "You are the only creature in this world to throw a knife at me and live afterward. Not even in my past life would I allow anyone to do that. To be fair, it was a nice throw, and decisive too. If I were human, I would have been heavily injured by it."

As Donatella walked toward him, expressing her desire for a challenge, shock rippled through the onlookers. Her mother, attempting to intervene, pleaded, "Dona, not again." Zeral swiftly leaped towards her, causing a collective gasp. However, instead of harm, he stopped in front of her. The air behind her shifted, leaving her stunned. Anticipating an attack, the gathered crowd held their breath.

But Zeral's words defied expectations. "You remind me of my son. He was brave like you." Gently tapping her head, he continued, "Yes, we will fight someday, but I want you to be strong. When I return, I will train you myself and fulfill the promise I made to you." Memories flashed before his eyes of him smilling at his son and young Donatella playing with wooden swords in the backyard, laughter ongoing as Jane and Elena watched from distance while disccussing the future of those two kids.

In the present, Donatella, tears welling in her eyes, embraced Zeral, expressing her gratitude. Zeral, seemingly unfamiliar with such gestures, remarked with a touch of humor, "Oh, a hug! I don't even remember the last person who gave me that." Returning the hug, he advised her to go with her parents, rest, and prepare for the training ahead. With a reassuring smile.

He added, "Don't worry about your parents; they can't stop me from doing it. You see, I'm immortal." With those words, he left, leaving behind a mix of emotions and a newfound connection between a warrior of the past and a princess determined to forge her destiny.

With Donatella's tearful gratitude lingering in the air, Zeral turned away, his steps purposeful as he walked toward the north. The firestorm behind him still burning the chaos he had unleashed, a stark contrast to the resolve played on his face.

His journey led him towards a confrontation with Hirvan, the orchestrator of the ongoing war. The fate of the realm hung in the balance, and as Zeral ventured north, the weight of his decisions, the memories of his past, and the quest for redemption propelled him forward.

The end.