"Nysha," I said softly but with emphasis.
From the shadows, a woman emerged gracefully.
"Yes, My Lord," she replied, kneeling with one hand on her chest.
Without another word, I raised my hand, revealing Celes's head, still suffused with the residual energy of holy light.
"Find the greatest blacksmith in this world.
And make me an artifact from it."
I handed the head to Nysha.
She took it carefully, as if holding a sacred relic wrapped in sin.
"Right away," I said coldly.
Nysha nodded, then vanished into the shadows—taking with her the last vestige of a hero's honor.
Zereth and the other commanders returned, each clad in proud armor and wielding bloodthirsty weapons.
"All is ready, My Lord," Zereth said in a steady voice, kneeling before me.
I turned slowly, gazing at the ranks of my troops.
Two hundred demons.
That number was probably small.
But the aura they radiated—it shook the ground, as if a battlefield had awaited them since the beginning of time.
Veterans from hell.
Hunters of life and devourers of light.
My eyes then fell on Nana, who still stood, her body covered in wounds and breathing heavily. But her determination had not been extinguished.
I raised one hand.
Dark magic flowed from my palm, enveloping her body in a thick red mist mixed with purple. In an instant, her wounds vanished and were replaced by a deeper power.
Nana bowed, her voice trembling but respectful.
"Thank you for your magic, My Lord."
I smiled faintly, without answering.
I stared into the still-spinning portal vortex, emanating a pitch-black and purple aura like an otherworldly womb.
Without hesitation, I stepped inside.
One by one, my troops followed behind—two hundred elite demons, their feet shaking the very ground of reality as they breached the boundary between worlds.
As soon as I emerged from the other side, fresh air and the scent of wet earth greeted me.
Before me stretched a dense forest, filled with tall trees and a thin mist hanging in the air.
I narrowed my eyes and took a deep breath.
"I know this place."
The atmosphere, the scent of the wind, even the traces of mana all around.
This was elven territory.
A sacred ground protected by nature and light magic.
And more than that—
The Bow Hero's headquarters.
My smile slowly faded.
"Are you ready to lose everything?" I murmured, as if speaking to the shadow of a once-shining hero.
"Zereth," I said softly but firmly, as if each syllable were an irresistible command.
Zereth stepped forward, kneeling before me silently.
"Choose five of the fastest-moving demons. Control the terrain, scout the surrounding area. I want a report before the sun hits the treetops."
My voice and dark aura resonated in the forest air, making the surrounding leaves tremble.
"Right away, My Lord," Zereth replied, then disappeared into the mist with his shadow army.
It didn't take long.
From behind the trees, they returned with sharp gazes and heavy breathing, bearing important news.
"My Lord," Zereth knelt once more, his voice a prelude to destruction.
"We found a settlement."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Lockwood Village."
A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips.
"Good. Let's give them a first greeting they won't forget."
My troops and I moved silently toward the marked direction.
Five minutes of walking through the silent forest, and finally I saw it—
Lockwood Village.
The small, peaceful village was surrounded by lush forest and a light mist that held traces of holy magic. Among the trees, elves walked quietly—watering plants, carrying baskets, and laughing softly in the morning sun.
Peaceful. Too peaceful.
I took a deep breath and let a dark smile touch my face.
"Enough."
The voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed powerfully in the hearts of my troops.
"Are you ready?"
Two hundred demon soldiers stood at attention, their eyes glowing a deep red, thirsting for blood.
I raised my hand slowly… then swung it forward.
"Kill every elf in this village. Leave none."
Zereth shot forward like a shadow of death. With a scythe of darkness in both hands, he slashed the gatekeeper's throat in an instant—soundlessly, without mercy. Holy elven blood sprayed into the air, accompanied by his soft laughter.
Nana emerged from the other side, charging through the ranks of elves preparing to sound the alarm. Using the first-grade Cheondan technique, she used her shield to lunge at her opponents and slashed at them with her short sword. Her previous wounds only fueled her rage.
"STAND!" she shouted—and three elves fell instantly under her slash.
Selena charged through the heart of the village, her eyes frozen, her breath turning into a mist of ice. Her great axe swirled like a white storm. With a single swing, she sliced through two houses, then leaped high and slammed into the ground—creating an explosion of ice that froze ten elves alive.
"Weaklings, this is all just an illusion of tranquility," he muttered coldly.
Malrik, a massive demon in horned armor, charged like a living fortress. He smashed through the barricade, shattering it into pieces, then lifted two elves at once and crushed them with his bare hands. Their screams were only the opening music.
The holy magic protecting the village began to crack, shattered by the brutal pressure of my generals. Fire, ice, blood, and screams filled the air—the once-peaceful was now nothing but ashes and fragments of memories.
And me?
I simply stood on a small hill—watching, enjoying the destruction I had begun.
"This is how the world should work," I whispered.
[MOON STRIKE]
The sound of a magical explosion echoed through the air—a crescent-shaped beam of aura shot out at incredible speed, slashing through trees and tearing the ground.
Zereth and my generals immediately retreated and returned to their formation, securing the main force.
My eyes narrowed, staring in the direction of the attack.
From the fading moonlight, five Elf Knights emerged. Their armor glistened, and an aura of holy magic enveloped their bodies like a divine mist.
One of them stepped forward, brimming with authority.
"How could a demon appear in this place?" she whispered, but her tone was filled with wariness and disgust.
My eyes immediately fell on one figure—the one standing at the forefront, her aura the purest and most dangerous.
You're the leader, aren't you?
"Who are you?" I asked, my cold voice piercing the air.
The figure lifted her chin arrogantly, her eyes piercing mine.
"I am Sylvene Lunethiel, daughter of the Bow Hero Elrodan Lunethiel."
Her words were filled with pride, like she was speaking the name of a god.
A moment of silence—
Then I laughed.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!"
The echo of demonic laughter shook the heavens.
"The son of my enemy has come before me."
I stepped forward, a smile spreading across my blood-stained face.
"Have you come to die or to wait for your father in hell?"
At my words, Sylvene's expression changed instantly. Her eyes burned with rage, and light magic began to gather around her.
"What do you mean, demon?! My father was a hero! He will never be on the same level as a lowly creature like you!" she snapped, her voice echoing with rage.
I merely smiled faintly.
A smile full of mockery.
"Zereth," I said calmly, seeming to ignore Sylvene completely, "kill the four elves behind her. Let me have some fun with the Bow Hero's daughter."
Zereth bowed slightly.
"With pleasure, My Lord."
As swift as a shadow, Zereth and the other generals shot forward—a storm of death swept through the Elf Knights, leaving only Sylvene before me.
I moved.
Instantly.
Without a moment's pause, I dashed toward her, my claws and demon magic slashing through the air.
CLANGG!!
Her magic arrow collided with my gauntlet—a spark of light and darkness exploded between us.
"You wish to defend your father's name?" I whispered in his ear, pressing my attack.
"Show me if you are worthy of the name Lunethiel."