His body was engulfed in black flames as he started walking toward the man named Geof, his eyes blazing with an otherworldly intensity.
"Captain, what are you doing? Finish him quickly!" the man named Brian exclaimed, his voice laced with a mixture of confusion and urgency.
I know, but I... I just can't move, damn it! Geof replied, his voice strained with a growing sense of dread. It was as if he was trying to will himself to take action, but his body seemed rooted to the spot.
The black flames that had erupted from Ian's body were now spreading rapidly, covering the entire room in a dark, fiery shroud. They danced and flickered with an eerie, malevolent glee, as if they were alive and feeding off the very fear that emanated from the two men.
Stay away, you damn kid! Geof warned, his voice cracking with anxiety. But Ian didn't respond. He just kept walking towards Brian, his eyes fixed on him with an unblinking stare.
Hey, go and stop him! If this continues, we'll all die! Geof shouted to the other soldier, his voice echoing off the walls. But the soldier hesitated, unsure of what to do.
But, Captain, how can...? the soldier started to say, but before he could finish, Geof kicked him towards Ian with a desperate cry.
The soldier stumbled forward, drawing his blade as he ran towards Ian. But it was too late. The black flames that surrounded Ian like a dark aura reached out and engulfed the soldier, consuming him in an instant.
The soldier's screams were cut short as he was reduced to nothing more than a pile of smoldering ash. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning flesh and the sound of crackling flames.
Geof stumbled backward, his eyes wide with horror as he realized the true extent of Ian's power. Brian, too, seemed frozen in terror, unable to move or speak.
"What the hell are you?!" Geof cried out, his voice filled with terror.
"Hey! Don't come near me—go away, you fucking monster!" Geof screamed, stumbling backward in terror.
Ian, still shrouded in dark flames, continued his slow, relentless approach. His eyes burned with an intense, otherworldly energy, and the shadows around him seemed to shift and coil like living things. The very darkness itself felt as if it were breathing, drawn to him, wrapping around him like an extension of his will.
The air was heavy with anticipation, the silence oppressive and foreboding. It was as if the very fate of the world hung in the balance, and Ian was the key to unlocking a terrible and ancient power.
With each step he took, the ground beneath him cracked, scorched by the dark flames that wreathed his body. The very air around him twisted and warped, bending to an unseen force. Geof's breath came in ragged gasps as he scrambled backward, his eyes wide with horror.
"This… this isn't human," he whispered, his voice trembling.
Ian did not speak. He did not need to. The darkness that swirled around him answered in his stead—a deep, unearthly hum that resonated through the very fabric of reality.
*****
The man named Geof was on the ground, his body wracked with sobs as the weight of his realization crushed him. He had been so blinded by his own ambition, so consumed by his desire for power, that he had failed to see the danger lurking right in front of him. "I'm sorry, Your Highness," Geof begged, his voice shaking with fear. "It was my fault, please spare my life. I'll do anything, just please don't kill me."
Brian, too, was on his knees, his eyes wide with terror as he gazed up at Ian. He knew that he was staring into the face of death itself, and he was powerless to stop it.
But Ian didn't respond. He just kept walking, his eyes fixed on Brian with an unnerving intensity. As he stopped in front of Brian, the air seemed to grow colder, the shadows deepening into dark, malevolent pools.
"Please, Prince Ian Indrath, spare our lives!" he pleaded, his breath ragged with fear. "You are the rightful heir of this empire, and as the next ruler, please—please show us mercy!"
But Ian's expression didn't change. He didn't even flinch. He just reached out with his left arm, his hand extended towards Brian.
And in that instant, Brian's eyes lit up with a desperate hope. He thought that Ian was going to spare his life, that he was going to show him mercy.
"Yes, he's going to spare me," Brian thought to himself, a glimmer of hope rising up in his chest. "He's going to show me mercy."
And with that, Brian reached out and took Ian's hand, his eyes filled with gratitude. But it was a fatal mistake.
In an instant, Brian's body was engulfed in flames, his screams echoing through the room as he was burned to death. He didn't even have time to respond, his body consumed by the dark, malevolent energy that seemed to emanate from Ian himself.
Geof watched in horror, his mind reeling with the implications of what he had just seen. He knew that he was staring into the face of a monster, a creature with powers beyond his wildest imagination.
Geof bolted toward the exit, his instincts screaming at him to flee. But as he neared it, his heart sank—black flames roared to life, sealing off any hope of escape.
"No… no, no, no!" he gasped, spinning around, searching frantically for another way out. He ran like a madman, his eyes darting across the room, but there was nothing—no door, no window, no crack in the walls that could offer him salvation.
The suffocating darkness pressed in around him, and with every passing second, the flames seemed to creep closer, as if alive, as if hunting him. His breath came in panicked gasps.
"This can't be happening," he whimpered, his voice barely more than a choked whisper.
After running aimlessly, his lungs burning and his legs trembling, Geof finally stopped. His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths as he braced himself for death.
His mind raced, but there was no escaping the inevitable. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, the outcome would not be good. Ian's powers were beyond anything he could have imagined—unnatural, unstoppable. He was at Ian's mercy, and deep down, he knew that mercy was unlikely.
The black flames flickered around him, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The heat was unbearable, yet the cold grip of fear in his chest was even worse. His sword felt useless in his hands, a mere scrap of metal against something far greater than human.
With a final, shaky breath, he turned back toward Ian, his fate sealed.
As he waited anxiously for the end to come, Ian reached out his right hand, the same hand that Geof had cut off just moments before. Geof's eyes widened in horror as he watched, transfixed, as Ian concentrated on his hand for a few seconds.
And then, in a phenomenon that defied all logic and reason, the right hand started to regenerate. Geof's eyes were glued to the sight, his mind reeling with the implications of what he was seeing. It was as if Ian's body was somehow repairing itself, rebuilding the damaged tissue and bone with an eerie, unnatural speed.
Geof was shook to his core, his body trembling with fear as he stumbled backward, desperate to get away from Ian. But there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Ian was a force of nature, unstoppable and unyielding.
"What are you…? Are you a monster?" Geof stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
His body trembled as he took an involuntary step backward, his mind refusing to accept what was unfolding before him.
"Without any mana, how are you doing this? This is impossible… this can't be happening!" he gasped, his voice laced with disbelief and terror.
Ian didn't answer. He simply flexed his newly restored fingers, watching them move as if testing their strength. The dark energy around him pulsed ominously, almost alive, as if responding to his thoughts. The oppressive atmosphere thickened, pressing down on Geof like an unseen force, suffocating and absolute.
Geof's breath hitched. His instincts screamed at him to run, but where? There was no escape. There was only Ian. And the nightmare that had just begun.
He just reached out his right hand—the same hand that had just regenerated—and grasped Geof's right hand.
Geof's instincts screamed at him to flee, but before he could react, Ian's fingers clamped down like a vice, unyielding and merciless.
"No—let go!" Geof gasped, his body twisting as he struggled to break free. But it was too late.
A surge of black flames erupted from Ian's grasp, engulfing Geof's hand in an instant. The heat was unbearable, an agony so intense that his screams tore through the air, raw and primal. His body convulsed violently, his mind barely able to process the horror of watching his own flesh crack and disintegrate before his very eyes.
But Ian didn't stop there. He seemed to be taking pleasure in Geof's suffering, his eyes gleaming with a malevolent intensity as he reached out and grasped Geof's left hand.
Geof begged for death, his voice hoarse from screaming as Ian grasped his left hand, the dark flames hungrily devouring his flesh. The pain was excruciating, unbearable—far beyond anything a human mind was meant to endure. His thoughts fractured, his very sense of self unraveling beneath the relentless torment.
"Please—please, no more!" Geof sobbed, his voice a broken whisper. "I-I can't take it! Just end it… kill me!"
Ian remained silent, his expression eerily calm as he watched the flames consume Geof's last hope of resistance.
As the agony coursed through his body, Geof's drool started to come out, his mouth hanging slack as he stared, vacant-eyed, at the ruin of his hands. He was a broken man, shattered by the cruelty and brutality of Ian's actions.
And yet, even as Geof's mind was consumed by the darkness of his own despair, Ian's expression remained impassive, unyielding. He seemed to be waiting for something, his eyes fixed intently on Geof's ruined form.
But what, Geof had no idea. All he knew was that he was trapped in a living nightmare, tormented by a monster with powers beyond his wildest imagination.