Through the haze, a single figure towered above the carnage.Dark armor, jagged as if carved from obsidian. Horns that curved like a crown. Eyes that burned red enough to pierce the smoke.
Zalreth, Infernal General.
The system flickered alive before my eyes:
ENTITY STATUS: Zalreth, Infernal General
Level: 45
Health: 800
Strength: 120
Agility: 80
Endurance: 100
Abilities:
Hellfire Slash: Ignites the ground with every swing.
Infernal Presence: Weakens nearby enemies' strength and morale.
Dark Resilience: Reduces incoming physical damage by 50%.
"Careful," Velzithar whispered, her voice like a blade against my mind. "This one's far beyond what you've faced before."
"I noticed," I muttered, stepping forward. "But he still bleeds."
Zalreth's head lifted, those burning eyes locking on me. His voice rumbled through the fire and ruin.
"Velzithar… why does that blade rest in mortal hands?"
I raised her, crimson light pulsing along her veins. "Because I took it. And if you know what it can do—you know what comes next."
He laughed. A low, broken sound that carried like thunder. "That sword was born in demonfire, quenched in the blood of gods. You're unworthy to wield it."
"Then let's test that theory."
He lunged.
The ground cracked beneath his weight as his blade came down in a fiery arc. I met the strike with Velzithar, sparks and black flame erupting between us. The impact rattled my bones.
Health: -50
"Focus!" Velzithar snapped. "If you hesitate, you die."
I blinked out of sight, Shadowstep flaring beneath my feet. In a blink, I was behind him—blade slicing for the gap in his armor.
The system pinged coldly:
Damage Reduced: Dark Resilience (50%)
"Tch." I ducked low as his backhand tore the air above me, then thrust forward again, driving Velzithar into his side.
"Keep pressure!" she urged, her power flooding into my limbs. "He's stronger—but you're faster."
Each clash sent ripples through the scorched ground. His Hellfire Slash turned earth to molten rock, the heat warping the air itself. Every movement was a dance on the edge of death.
My men held the line behind me—steel and grit against the tide of snarling beasts.
"Your Majesty!" Gregor's voice cut through the noise. "The lesser demons are nearly routed!"
"Then hold position!" I shouted. "I'll handle the rest!"
Zalreth raised his blade high. The air shuddered, black fire exploding outward in a ring of death. I dove aside, the flames grazing my armor. Men screamed—some didn't get back up.
"Enough!" I roared.
Energy Surge—activate.
Velzithar blazed in my hands, crimson light pouring off her like liquid fire. I charged, closing the distance in a heartbeat. Each strike hit harder, faster—metal shattered, armor cracked, and the Infernal General stumbled.
He swung wide, desperation bleeding through his rage. I stepped inside the arc, drove Velzithar into his chest, and unleashed every ounce of power she gave me.
The light consumed him from within. His scream ripped through the inferno before his body dissolved into ash and fire.
The system's chime felt distant.
Boss Defeated: Zalreth, Infernal General
Stats Absorbed (50%)
+60 Strength
+40 Agility
+50 Endurance
Level Up: +10 Levels
A rush of energy hit like a tidal wave. Power flooded my limbs—wild, intoxicating, dangerous.
UPDATED STATUS
Name: Alaric Varelius
Level: 42 (+10)
Health: 505/505
Mana: 200/200
Strength: 150
Agility: 95
Endurance: 130
Skills: Gluttony (Active), Shadowstep (Tier 2), Lacerate (Tier 1), Howl of Terror, Regeneration, Wrath of the Abyss (Legendary)
Zalreth's blade lay in the ash, its dark core pulsing faintly. I bent to pick it up. It was heavier than it looked—familiar in weight, but wrong in spirit.
"Be careful," Velzithar hissed. "That weapon still carries his essence. Let it near you too long, and it'll hollow you out."
"We'll deal with it later," I said, sliding her back into her sheath.
The battlefield had gone quiet. The air was thick with smoke and silence. My men stood among the ruins, weary but alive, the firelight painting their armor in shades of red and gold.
Gregor approached, blood streaking his cheek. "The village is ours again, Your Majesty… but the cost was heavy."
"I know," I said softly, staring at what was left of Darrow's Hollow. "We'll rebuild. We have to."
Velzithar's voice hummed in my mind—quiet, steady, almost proud.
"You've made your stand tonight, Alaric. The Demon King will see this. And he will answer."
After some while-
The battlefield was quiet now—eerily quiet.
Only the faint crackle of fire and the hiss of cooling steel broke the silence. Smoke drifted over the ruins, and the stench of blood and ash hung heavy in the air.
My men moved through the wreckage, tending to the wounded, dragging the dead into rows. But my eyes weren't on them. They were fixed on a faint red glow flickering in the ash where Zalreth's body had fallen.
Velzithar pulsed faintly in my hand, her voice sharp and alert.
"Do you feel that?"
"Yeah," I murmured, stepping closer. The glow grew brighter—a shard of crimson light hovering just above the ground, jagged like broken glass.
SYSTEM ALERT
Memory Fragment Detected
Source: Zalreth, Infernal General
Absorb the fragment to uncover a portion of Alaric Varelius's past.
I frowned, the words hanging in the air like a dare. "A memory fragment?"
Velzithar's tone turned strangely soft. "A piece of truth. This isn't about power, Alaric. This is about what came before you… what he left behind."
I stared at the shard, feeling a pull deep in my chest—half fear, half curiosity.
"Guess we're about to find out what kind of mess I inherited."
The moment my fingers brushed it, a surge of energy slammed through me. My vision went white, and the world twisted, dissolving into darkness.
When it cleared, I wasn't in the village anymore.
A blackened wasteland stretched before me, endless and dead. The sky churned red and black like a wound that wouldn't heal. Sulfur burned my lungs, and in the distance, a fortress rose—vast and cruel, its spires stabbing at the heavens.
Velzithar's voice drifted through the haze. "The Demon King's domain."
The air rippled—and suddenly, I wasn't alone.
He stood there.
The other Alaric.
Younger. Sharper. His silver hair shorter, his eyes burning crimson with purpose. He wore armor dark as night, pulsing faintly with runes that reminded me of Velzithar's glow.
Before him, a group of demons knelt—Zalreth among them.
"Your loyalty will be rewarded," the past Alaric said, his voice calm but cold. "Serve me, and together we will bring balance to this world."
The demons lowered their heads.
"Yes, my lord."
The scene blurred, shifting—faster now.
Alaric again, standing in a throne room of jagged stone, surrounded by bodies.
Demons.
Dead, scattered, broken.
Velzithar dripped black blood in his hands, her voice echoing faintly through the memory.
And then another voice—deep, cruel, and ancient.
"You think you can challenge me, mortal?"
Alaric's eyes hardened. "You are a scourge upon this world. Your time is over."
The world shattered. The memories spun—flashes of battle, betrayal, fire.
Alaric forging alliances with demons. Fighting beside them.
And then… turning against them.
The vision snapped apart like glass breaking, and I stumbled back into my body, gasping for breath.
SYSTEM ALERT
Memory Fragment Absorbed
Connection to Alaric Varelius's past partially restored.
Velzithar's voice cut through the quiet, cold but edged with something close to pity.
"Now you see."
I nodded slowly, still catching my breath. "He wasn't just a king… he worked with the demons. Used them."
"And betrayed them," she finished. "Now they remember. Now they hate him—and they'll hate you too. His legacy is yours to carry, Alaric. Power, enemies… and all the mistakes in between."
Gregor's voice broke the silence, pulling me back to the world around me.
"Your Majesty! Are you alright?"
I looked up. His armor was scorched, his face streaked with soot and worry.
"I'm fine," I said, though my voice sounded distant even to me. "Just… learning something I wasn't supposed to."
Gregor's gaze drifted to the dim shard now lying dull and lifeless in the dirt. "What was that?"
"A memory," I said, sheathing Velzithar. "One that changes everything."
He frowned. "Should I be concerned?"
"Probably," I said with a half-smile that didn't reach my eyes. "But not yet."
He exhaled through his nose, nodding. "The men are ready to move. What are your orders, Your Majesty?"
"Secure the village. Help whoever's left. We rebuild and fortify the walls. This was just the first wave… and it won't be the last."
Gregor hesitated. "And you?"
I looked past the burning horizon—toward the memory still echoing in my mind. The fortress. The Demon King's voice.
"I prepare," I said quietly. "For what's coming next."
Velzithar's tone softened, almost like a whisper only I could hear.
"The truth is a heavy burden, Alaric… but it's also your sharpest blade. Wield it wisely."
I said nothing.
Just tightened my grip on her hilt and turned toward the smoke-filled dawn.