Liam woke to the feeling of soft linen and the faint scent of lavender.
The System. A torrent of information flooded
> Enemy ELIMINATED
> * Enemy: Demon General, Malakor (5th) + 1200 Demons
> * Experience Gained: 30,000
> LEVEL UP! (x30)
> Liam – Level 251/∞
> * Title: The General
> * Strength: 1170
> * Agility: 1170
> * Endurance: 1170
> * Magic: 1170
> * Dark Force: 490
> * Green Attributes: 130
> * Light Attributes: 105
> * Health: 75000/75000
>
. He was in the Royal Palace of Oakhaven.
The agonizing pain was gone.
For a moment, there was only a disorienting peace. Then, the memories returned.
He remembered the fight. The brutal, desperate struggle against Malakor. He remembered the feeling of dying, the cold abyss calling to him.
He remembered Lyra's scream,
And he remembered… rage. An all-consuming, world-ending rage.
Everything after that was a blur.
He sat up, his body feeling strangely foreign, both stronger than ever.
King Alaric was sitting in a chair by the window,
"You're awake"
He rushed to Liam's bedside. "My boy… Liam… I don't have the words. You saved us. You saved everything.
The city, my daughter… my people. They are calling you the 'Savior of Oakhaven.' There are songs already being written. You are a true hero."
He looked past the King and saw Lyra standing near the doorway.
She was smiling.
"What happened?"
"After I killed the General… what happened?"
The King's smile faltered slightly. "You… you finished the job, my boy.
You eliminated the rest of the demon army. It was a terrifying display of power.
But you saved us all."
But Lyra's expression told a different story. The King saw a hero's righteous fury; she had seen something else entirely.
After the King, overwhelmed with gratitude, finally left them to "rest," Lyra slowly approached the bed.
"Lyra?" Liam asked
. "What is it?"
She finally looked at him,
"The demon army is gone, Liam," she said
"You destroyed them. All of them."
She paused.
But the Royal Guard… the city's hunters… they took casualties after Malakor was already dead.
Thirty-seven of them. They weren't killed by demons. They were caught in the… aftermath. In the blasts of your energy."
The blood drained from Liam's face.
He remembered the rage, the loss of control. He remembered moving through the chaos, his only instinct to kill, to destroy every enemy
He remembered unleashing waves of power, indiscriminate and absolute. He didn't see allies or enemies. He only saw targets. He had killed them. The very people he was trying to protect.
"Oh, gods," he breathed,
"What did I do?"
"Liam…" Lyra took a step closer.
She reached out a hand.
That thing… that man that came down from the tower… was that you?"
The question was the key to everything. Was it him? He wanted to deny it, to say it was the power, not him.
But he couldn't. It had come from within him. It was a part of him.
"I… I don't know," he confessed, his voice breaking.
He buried his face in his hands,
"I lost control. It was just… rage. It wouldn't stop. I couldn't stop it."
Lyra seemed to understand.
She finally sat on the edge of the bed, her hand gently resting on his shoulder.
Later that day, Liam stood at the window of his room, looking down at the city .
In the main square, a huge crowd was gathered, and he could hear the faint sound of them chanting his name.
They were celebrating. But from his point,
He could also see a smaller, more somber procession making its way to the city's graveyard. A funeral for the thirty-seven.
Liam went to walk with the people to the graveyard.
Garrus found him there. The big shielder was dressed in clean clothes.
He didn't look at Liam with anger anymore, only a kind of weary respect.
"We buried him," Garrus said quietly, referring to Kaelen. "We gave him a warrior's send-off. He would have liked that."
He looked at Liam, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "
Thank you. For avenging him. For finishing the fight."
Garrus saw a hero who had brought justice to his fallen leader.
He hadn't been there for the rampage.
He didn't know the full truth. The dramatic irony was a dagger in Liam's soul. He could only nod, unable to speak.
After Garrus left, Liam was alone with his thoughts, his guilt, and the book. He felt a desperate need for answers, for anything that could explain the monstrous power that resided within him.
He sat down and opened the Book of the Dungeon.
"The Three become One, and the One is the Nexus.
Green is the foundation,
Light is the structure,
Dark is the change.
They are not meant to be held in balance,
for they are not equals.
They are a cycle. To wield one is to be a magic caster. To wield two is to be a paradox.
To wield all three is to be a key to unmaking… or remaking.
Beware the price of imbalance. When rage fuels the Dark, and desperation summons the Light, the foundation of Life is forgotten. The Nexus becomes not a key, but a hammer, shattering all that it was meant to unlock."
In the Demon Lord's throne room,
a guard knelt. "My Lord. We have received word from the mortal realm. General Malakor has failed. He has been killed."
"So,"
"The mortal is stronger than I thought.
He has now killed two of my Generals and one of theirs.
"This 'Nexus' is becoming more interesting than I anticipated. It seems the game requires a more… personal touch."
The Demon Lord stood,
"I will go and talk to him,"
"I want to see this 'boy' for myself."