In the watchtower, King David and his generals observed the chaotic scene below. The swirling firestorm enveloped Zeral, casting an peculiar glow across the battlefield. The king's face was a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty.

Queen Elena, with concern etched on her face, approached the king. Her eyes never left the tumultuous display of flames where Zeral fought. She hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Is he dead? Are you sure it is Adomas?"

King David sighed, a heavy burden evident in his response, "Yes, it's him. But I'm not sure why he's doing this or what awaits him in the heart of that inferno. That isn't the same Adomas we used to know."

The queen, her voice filled with nostalgia, reminded the king of the hero Adomas once was. "He was a great hero, David. Fearless and true. What could have driven him to this madness?"

The king's gaze turned distant, lost in the recesses of memory. He recalled the first time he met Adomas, a young and promising warrior from the city of Batrak. The camaraderie they had shared, the battles they fought side by side – those were memories etched deeply in the king's heart.

"He was a different man then, Elena. I could have never imagined witnessing him like this," King David murmured, his thoughts reflecting on the transformation of his once-valiant friend into the enigmatic figure now engulfed in flames.

Prince David, a young man of around 20 years old, visited the city of Batrak with his generals, eager to assess the ongoing results of the Hundred War. Amidst the city's bustling streets and strategic discussions, his true purpose was to visit his beloved, the enchanting Lady Elena.

Elena, now a queen, possessed a timeless beauty that captivated all who beheld her. Her radiant eyes held a depth of kindness, and her golden hair cascaded down like a waterfall, framing a face adorned with delicate features. She exuded an air of grace and poise that made her stand out even in the vibrant city.

As Prince David made his way to Elena's residence, he discovered a lively scene in the backyard. Adomas, a young warrior with an aura of determination, was engaged in training alongside his companion Kevin and a group of other boys. The graceful Elena stood nearby, watching the training with keen interest, accompanied by her cousin Jane, the future wife of Adomas.

Between the clashing of swords and the shouts of young warriors, Prince David and Elena met. Their conversation flowed effortlessly as they discussed their shared dreams and visions for the future. As Adomas approached Jane after the training, the prince took the opportunity to speak with the talented young swordsman.

David complimented Adomas on his skill, impressed by the prowess displayed by the budding warrior. Adomas, with humility and a hint of amusement, thanked the prince for his words. The encounter left a positive impression on both, setting the stage for a friendship that would unfold in unexpected ways.

Later, as Adomas took Jane for a horse ride, Prince David found the idea intriguing and decided to seize the moment. He took Elena for a horse ride of their own, embarking on a short journey through the picturesque surroundings of Batrak. With the laughter and shared memories, a bond between Prince David and Lady Elena began to deepen, marking the start of a connection that would endure the test of time.

The atmosphere in the watchtower turned tense as the shocked cry from one of Prince David's generals echoed through the air: "He is alive!" The revelation sent a shiver down everyone's spine, freezing them in disbelief.

As the fiery storm seemed to part, revealing the emergence of a dark figure, the gasps of onlookers mingled with the crackling of flames. The strongest weapon mankind had devised had failed to vanquish Zeral, and the implications of his survival left everyone stunned.

Elena, the queen, found herself overcome with emotion, tears streaming down her face as the realization sank in. Even the seasoned generals, who had witnessed countless battles, couldn't hide their astonishment. Prince David, caught in the grip of a haunting memory, stood motionless, staring at the unfolding spectacle.

Suddenly roused from his reverie, Prince David's eyes flashed with determination. Without uttering a word, he descended the stairs, his mind seemingly focused on a singular purpose. The queen, sensing the gravity of the situation, hurried after him, pleading with urgency: "No, wait! Don't go there."

Ignoring her pleas, Prince David pressed forward, a stoic resolve etched on his face. He brushed past the bewildered commanders, commanding them to fall back and leave Zeral to him. The heavy gate creaked open, revealing the path toward the enigmatic figure emerging from the flames.

As he walked toward Zeral, every step resonated with a mix of determination and uncertainty. The air crackled with tension, and the flickering flames cast shadows that danced on the stone walls. The king's decision to face Zeral personally marked a pivotal moment, one that held the promise of confrontation, conversation, or perhaps a resolution to the mysteries that bound their fates together.

As the king marched towards the looming presence of Zeral, the air around him thick with tension, the monsters were concealed within the shadows of the darkened forest near the capital. From their hiding spots, they witnessed the gruesome spectacle of the eternal flames consuming the flesh of the fallen soldiers, a grotesque display of the devastating power that humans had harnessed.

One of the monster, his eyes fixated on the fiery horror, spoke to his assembled monsters. "Behold, the most potent weapon that humans have wrought upon this land," he declared, a mixture of awe and trepidation in his voice. "These flames from the depths of hell can devour us, and only the druids possess the ability to wield them. This is why the druids must be eradicated, for they alone hold the key to our destruction as our lord says"

He turned to his allies, a sense of urgency in his tone. "He cannot transform any of the fallen soldiers into holy beings, and our advancements are hindered by this infernal fire. We must retreat for now and search for survivors in the cities that Zeral has ravaged. We can do nothing against this relentless onslaught."

Just as they contemplated their retreat, one claimed "if our lord doesn't find a way to kill that silver monster, he will put an end for us as well"

the other monster said "Agreed. Hirvan can't even survive the hellfire althought he is immortal in the blood but he doesn't have the silver skin neither the strenght this Zeral possess" then he said to himself "Adomas what the hell have you become?"

As King David approached the menacing figure of Zeral, memories of his last conversation with Adomas came in his mind. The words exchanged before Adomas left for the perilous beast hunt played like a haunting melody.

"Are you sure you want this? My men have perished there many times, and I can't afford to lose one of my bravest warriors," King David had warned, concern filled across his face.

Adomas responded with a confident smile, "I was born to fight, like my father and grandfather. We are sworn to serve and fight for this kingdom! I want history to remember me as a legendary warrior who faced this mythical creature."

His determination unwavering, Adomas added, "And if that druid magical potion works, I will do my best to slay that beast and bring you its head along with its blood."

The king, touched by Adomas's bravery and sacrifice, expressed his gratitude. He thanked Adomas for his willingness to confront the beast and assured him that he was already a hero in the eyes of the kingdom. The king vowed to erect a statue in Adomas's honor in the royal backyard, immortalizing his bravery and valor.

As Adomas faced Zeral on the battlefield, the weight of the promise he made to the king rested on his shoulders. The words of their conversation fueled his determination, and he looked directly into Zeral's eyes, ready to confront the mythical creature and fulfill his destiny as a legendary warrior. The clash between man and beast, the past and the present, unfolded in a dramatic confrontation that would determine the fate of the kingdom and its people.

Zeral, in a fit of rage, leaped towards King David after he kneeled, aiming to strike him down. The air crackled with anticipation as Zeral's powerful punch was inches away from David's head. But then, an unexpected halt occurred. Zeral's hands froze, suspended in the air, mere moments before impact.

A stunned hush fell upon the battlefield as onlookers tried to comprehend the inexplicable interruption. King David, though his gray hair had been swept back by the force of the halted attack, remained steadfast, not flinching or showing any sign of fear.

Zeral, perplexed and infuriated, questioned the king, "What? Do you accept your death? Aren't you afraid?"

With unyielding resolve, King David responded, "I was born to fight, like my father and grandfather..." He repeated the words spoken by Adomas in their past conversation, emphasizing his unwavering commitment to the warrior's path. Then, he modified the phrase, replacing "king" with "warrior" from Adomas's original speech.

Zeral, clenching his fists in anger, was taken aback. "Those words... you remember! And yet, you betrayed me."

In that moment, a revelation dawned upon Zeral. The king's resilience and familiarity with the words struck a chord. The connection between David and Adomas, the transfer of resolve and determination, unfolded before Zeral's eyes. The realization of being betrayed by someone he thought was under his control fueled his anger even more.

The battlefield stood frozen in time, a tableau of defiance and betrayal, as the clash between king and mythical creature took an unexpected turn, rewriting the narrative of their destined confrontation.

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In the charged atmosphere of their confrontation, Zeral's accusation goes across the battlefield. "You did this! You bastard! You turned on Hirvan and lied to him," he accused, the anger in his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

King David, taken aback by the vehement accusation, vehemently defended himself. "No, that's wrong! I didn't order any of my men for that!"

Zeral, fueled by rage and a sense of betrayal, interrupted with more fervor, "You liar! I was there! I saw it with my own eyes. I was down, injured, my body half torn up, and yet I saw one of your commanders ordering his soldiers to kill Hirvan in the name of the king!"

David swore, his voice filled with desperation, "No! Never! I swear with my life, with everything I have and God above us in the sky, I didn't order that!"

But Zeral continued to push, his accusations relentless. "Liar! No one else has the power to make that decision."

David, trying to reason with Zeral, explained, "I'm not responsible for the hatred of my men towards druids. Even my close generals harbor resentment, but I didn't. I wanted peace. That's why I initiated the beast hunt—to be a king who keeps an eye on such matters. Now, you have the power to continue this. Join us and put an end to this madness."

Zeral, however, walked back, his laughter ringing with bitterness. "Join? Hahaha, you fucking trash! Hahaha, join you after you killed my family! I shall rip your head off for saying this."

David, shocked and on the verge of tears, asked in disbelief, "What? I didn't. Who told you that? Why do you think I would destroy an entire city and kill everyone?" He spoke with heavy breathing, his voice breaking as he swore he had nothing to do with that event and wasn't sure who was responsible.

Zeral continued laughing, a dark sound that reverberated through the battlefield. "Yes, I believe you. Haha. There is no army nearby Batrak that has the force to destroy it apart from yours. And what? This was the decision of one of your soldiers gone mad? This was only the decision by the king himself. No one else can order soldiers to attack an entire city."

David stood silent, shock rendering him momentarily speechless. The weight of Zeral's accusations hung heavily in the air, leaving the king grappling for words to respond to the swirling questions and doubts.

King David's face turned pallid, the weight of the accusations heavy on his shoulders. He stood there, a picture of sorrow and despair, repeating, "I didn't..." with a trembling voice. Zeral advanced toward him, each step carrying an air of impending doom, the word "liar" echoing from his lips like a sinister chant.

In the midst of this somber moment, a voice cut through the tension. "Stop, you fucking monster!" A knife sailed through the air, aimed at Zeral's face. Although it didn't inflict any harm, the weapon fell to the ground, revealing its familiar origin. Zeral looked down to see his own knife, recognition dawning in his eyes.

As he puzzled over the identity of the knife's thrower, the young princess emerged from the shadows. With determination inscribed across her tear-streaked face, she ran towards Zeral, brandishing a sword. Behind her, the queen desperately pursued, shouting, "Dona, stop!"

"I will kill you myself! You betrayed me! You used to be my hero!" the princess cried out, her words laced with anguish. Zeral, still trying to piece together the fragments of his memories, stared at her in bewilderment.

King David, in a mixture of shock and concern, ordered her to stop. The queen managed to capture her daughter, restraining her from launching an attack. Through her tears, the princess wailed, "You used to be my hero! My fucking hero! Let me fight him! I'd rather die than look at this monster!"

Zeral, holding the knife in his hands, struggled to remember her. Then, the princess, as if to drive home the pain, shot out, "Johnny, curse you for doing this to us." The words struck Zeral like a thunderbolt, disbelief etched across his face. As the weight of his actions and their impact on the lives of these people sank in, the battlefield became a stage for personal anguish, betrayal, and a tragic reckoning.

As Zeral clutched the knife, memories of his time spent with young Princess Donatella and the bond she shared with his son flooded his consciousness. The blade itself seemed to whisper tales of their interactions, a relic that bore witness to moments of laughter, training, and a promise that transcended the boundaries of royalty.

In the courtyard of Batrak, he remembered Donatella's determination as she trained with his son. Their laughter lives through the air as they sparred, the innocence of their friendship capturing a moment frozen in time. Zeral, with a genuine smile, had often remarked to Donatella, "You'll be a strong warrior, not just a princess in the castle. I'll continue your training when I return."

He vividly recalled the promise he made to her, the belief that she would grow into a formidable warrior under his guidance. The scenes played out in his mind like a bittersweet symphony—a mentor fostering strength in a young princess, a father watching his son form connections with those beyond their own kind.

As he gazed at Donatella in the present, the knife in his hand became more than a mere object, it was a conduit to a shared history. The memories attached to it were mottled in every scratch and contour. The weight of his son's laughter, intertwined with Donatella's resolute gaze, echoed through the recesses of his mind.

In that poignant moment, Zeral felt the convergence of past and present. The innocence of their interactions, the promise of training, and the shared dreams for a peaceful future stood in stark contrast to the battlefield and the accusations hurled at him.

In the midst of this emotional turmoil, Queen Elena approached Zeral, addressing him by a name he hadn't heard in a long time. "Adomas! What happened to you? What happened to one of my closest friends? What happened to the lover of Jane? To the hero of Batrak!" Her words bore the weight of history, a shared past that now seemed distant and distorted.

Elena continued, her voice a mixture of sorrow and reproach, "I was born there! I raised there! I lived there with you. Do you think I would allow David to kill my hometown? Do you think I would be speaking to you alive now if he ordered that? Do you think I would let him kill your family?" With a sudden intensity, she proclaimed, "My blood!" as she raised her weapon, a symbol of defiance against the notion of kin turning against kin.

Zeral, caught in the currents of memories and revelations, looked at Elena, recognizing the features of her cousin Jane in her face. It was as if he was seeing ghosts from a time when everything was different, a time when bonds were strong, and the kingdom stood united. The weight of realization pressed upon Zeral's conscience as he grappled with the truth of his actions and the profound consequences that had unraveled before him.

As the accusation hung heavy in the air, Zeral, caught between anger and an internal pain, turned his gaze towards the king's family. His eyes reflected a mix of emotions, a storm raging within him. The memories of his own family and the weight of their absence pressed on his conscience, amplifying the intensity of his emotions.

In the midst of this turmoil, Zeral struggled to reconcile the accusations and the pain he felt. He clenched his fists, his knuckles getting hard, as he accused, "No, you're all lying! He killed them. Who else can do it? Hirvan can't do it!" A sudden scream erupted from Zeral, a manifestation of the turmoil within him. "He couldn't take a single city all this time, and you think with dozens he can defeat Batrak? Who did it then? Answer me!"

The king, unable to unravel the mystery and provide a satisfactory response, remained silent. The weight of the unspoken truth lingered, casting a shadow over the battlefield.

In an unexpected turn of events, a voice pierced the heavy atmosphere. "Druids," came the word, and as King David turned to see the source, General Erik emerged from the shadows. "Adomas, it's me, Erik. I was one of the masters who trained you in Batrak. If you remember, then you remember what happened to my family during the 100 years war. When the druids poisoned the river near Batrak and killed everyone in the outskirts. I'm sure they can wield such power."

The revelation struck a chord within Zeral, a tumultuous mix of realization and disbelief washing over him. The mention of the druids and their past actions ignited a spark of recognition, challenging the foundation of his convictions.

Zeral, his gaze still fixed on the lingering firestorm, acknowledged Erik's words with a nod. "Yes, I remember you, and now that you mention it, that makes sense. They can create powerful weapons like the hellfire you used on me. I may end the entire human race, and that fire will remain burning," he mused, the weight of the revelation settling on his shoulders.

Erik, fervently defending King David, stepped forward. "Adomas, you are looking at the wrong enemy here. Our king is innocent! He never ordered the betrayal of Hirvan, neither the attack on Batrak. I am his closest genera, I have followed him since he was young, I even was his personal guard when he sneaked around to meet the queen. He loves Batrak, he won't do it."

Princess Donatella, looking at her blushing mother, bore witness to a side of the king she hadn't fully comprehended. Erik continued, "But who holds hatred toward the king and humans? Of course, the druids. I'm sure it was part of their plan."

Zeral, convinced by Erik's words, sought justice for his family. "Tell me, where are they? Let me avenge my family." His eyes, still holding the pain of loss and betrayal, burned with a newfound determination. The revelation had shifted the focus of his wrath, redirecting it toward the true orchestrators of the tragedy that befell his kin.

As Zeral, fueled by anger and the thirst for vengeance, advanced towards the king with menacing intent, David, standing resolute, refused to divulge the druids' location. "No, you can't kill the entire druids because of this. We aren't sure even if they are the ones responsible for it. I can't tell you their location," the king declared, firm in his decision to uphold justice rather than succumb to blind retribution.

Zeral, unable to contain his rage, walked back with a seething anger. He circled back towards the king, his steps deliberate, preparing to strike with his hands. "How dare you?" he spat, his frustration and fury palpable.

Unwavering, David uttered, "Kill me! Go ahead. I'd rather die than watch this nonsense. Kill me and kill whoever you want, but leave humanity! Leave my kingdom and go away."

Zeral chuckled with a sinister smile. "Oh, you think I will listen to you," he retorted, dismissing the plea for mercy. As he continued his advance, the queen, Donatella, and Erik stepped forward, forming a protective barrier in front of the king. Each one declared, "Kill me too," a collective act of solidarity against the impending threat.

Undeterred, Zeral halted momentarily, the pain within him resurfacing. The conflict between vengeance and the remaining of humanity within him waged a tumultuous battle. The unexpected show of unity, the willingness of the king's family and his trusted general to sacrifice themselves, created a momentary pause in the confrontation, a brief respite before the storm of emotions and actions resumed.

As Zeral desperately clutched his head, attempting to stave off the overwhelming pain and drown out the dissonant voices recurring within, a single, familiar voice cut through the chaos. "Stop, father." Turning to the right, his eyes widened in disbelief as he beheld his son, a living reflection of his own anger. Behind him stood his wife, her eyes revealing a silent narrative of disappointment and sorrow. Zeral, utterly disoriented, whispered, "No way, what?" His son's gaze remained unyielding, intensifying Zeral's confusion. He insisted, "No, you aren't real."

From the left, a procession of soldiers emerged, led by Kevin, who had fought alongside Zeral in battles past. To Zeral's astonishment, even the priest he had once transformed into a monstrous entity materialized, extending words of forgiveness. Overwhelmed by the surreal turn of events, Zeral began shaking uncontrollably, repeatedly yelling, "No, no, this is unreal! I will kill you all!"

As his anguished cries reverberated across the blood-stained battlefield, a haunting symphony of despair, Zeral's gaze shifted toward the king. There, seated in front of him, was a figure he had nearly forgotten—a figure of profound significance. "I will not let you harm my king," the figure declared with unwavering resolve. "As for the hero of Batrak, the high commander of Batrak, I, Adomas Fliztark, must stop you."

In this climactic moment, tears streamed down Zeral's face as he witnessed the resurrection of his former self, adorned in the resplendent armor of Batrak, his human features restored. A torrent of memories and images from the past flooded Zeral's mind, overwhelming him. Overcome with emotion, he collapsed to his knees amidst the battlefield's turmoil.

Amidst the chaos, the king approached, his expression a mix of understanding and compassion. He reached out, embracing Zeral in a gesture of reconciliation. As Zeral continued to cry, the king spoke, "Welcome home, my old friend."

the end.