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The Battlefield of Monsters
The land was drenched in blood.
The screams of the dying mixed with the howls of the Erebos, their monstrous forms moving like living nightmares in the moonlit ruins.
The Elder Erebos stood tall, its massive frame pulsing with divine energy. Its rotating bone ring spun violently, golden runes glowing across its grotesque chimeric body.
And before it—stood Modred.
His black cape billowed in the wind, his crimson eyes glowing like burning coals. He twirled his sword once, his grip tightening as he smirked—a slow, dangerous expression.
A true demon's smile.
The Elder Erebos let out a guttural, earth-shaking roar.
Then—it charged.
The ground split apart beneath its weight, dust and debris blasting into the sky. Its massive chimeric arms swung down, aiming to crush Modred in a single blow.
But by the time its claws struck the earth—Modred was gone.
A whisper of black wind.
Then—blood sprayed into the air.
The Elder Erebos staggered back, a deep gash torn across its side.
Modred reappeared behind it, blade dripping as he exhaled.
"Too slow."
The beast screeched, its massive tail whipping toward him.
Modred leaned back slightly, dodging by a hair's breadth. The tail obliterated a section of ruins behind him, stone shattering like glass.
Then—Modred moved.
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Modred vs. The Elder Erebos – The Death of a God's Gift
His footwork was perfect, every movement calculated.
He fought like a specter, untouchable—dodging, weaving, slashing through the beast like a blade through silk.
The Elder Erebos adapted—but Modred was faster.
Each time it regenerated, he cut deeper. Each time it adjusted, he struck faster.
The battlefield became a blur of crimson and black.
Modred vanished—reappeared—vanished again.
And each time, the beast lost more and more of itself.
Until—it realized.
This wasn't a battle.
It was a hunt.
And Modred was the predator.
The Elder Erebos roared in rage, golden runes flashing as divine power surged through its form.
Its rotating bone crown twisted, rearranging its body. Its wounds regenerated faster, its limbs expanding, muscles tightening.
Then—it struck at full force.
A pulse of raw energy detonated outward, shattering the entire battlefield.
For a moment, everything was engulfed in white light.
Then—silence.
A crater stretched beneath them, deep as a canyon. The Elder Erebos panted, golden energy still flickering around its body.
Then—a shadow fell over it.
And the beast froze.
Modred stood above it, perched on the shattered remains of a ruined pillar—untouched.
His blade gleamed beneath the moonlight, black energy pulsing from its edge.
He looked down at the Elder Erebos, eyes glowing like hellfire.
Then—he smiled.
"I was hoping you'd make this fun."
The Elder Erebos' entire body tensed.
Then—Modred attacked.
A flash of black and red.
The world split apart.
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The Others Fight – Blood on the Earth
While Modred battled the Elder Erebos, the rest of the Valkary were locked in their own wars.
Fenrick – The Berserker's Path
A hulking Erebos ogre—three times Fenrick's size—roared as it swung a massive club toward him.
Fenrick didn't dodge.
Instead—he caught the club with his bare hands.
The force of the blow cracked the ground, but Fenrick didn't budge.
Then—he grinned.
With a single movement—he shattered the club.
The ogre's eyes widened in horror.
Fenrick cracked his knuckles.
"My turn."
His fist crashed into the ogre's face, caving in its skull instantly.
Blood exploded like a geyser, bones cracking as Fenrick's barrage continued—punch after punch, until nothing remained but broken flesh.
Another Erebos lunged at him.
Fenrick grabbed its jaw—ripped it in half.
His golden eyes glowed in the carnage.
"You're all too weak."
---
Dante – The Storm's Wrath
Lightning ripped through the battlefield.
Dante moved like a living shadow, his black lightning tearing through multiple Erebos at once.
A massive beast lunged at him from behind.
Without looking—he raised a hand.
A bolt of pure energy struck through its skull, leaving nothing but charred remains.
Dante exhaled, spinning his daggers.
"Tch. You guys aren't even fun."
An Erebos charged from the side.
Dante vanished.
Then—a flash of black and gold.
And the Erebos collapsed in pieces.
Dante smirked.
"Next."
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Arthur – The King's Blade
Arthur's blade cut through the night, a perfect blend of grace and brutality.
Every swing severed limbs, carved through flesh, and painted the ruins in blood.
An Erebos attempted to flank him.
Arthur twisted—his sword severing its head in a single stroke.
Another leapt toward him.
Arthur thrust his blade upward—skewering it midair.
His expression remained calm, cold.
A true swordsman.
Then—he turned toward the battlefield.
And saw Modred preparing his final attack.
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The End – The Fall of a God's Beast
The Elder Erebos collapsed to its knees, bleeding, broken.
Modred landed before it, his blade humming with dark energy.
The beast's golden eyes flickered—for the first time, it looked afraid.
Modred lifted his sword.
And spoke only one word.
"Die."
The blade fell.
And with it—a god's creation was erased from existence.