The morning sun filtered through the crystal windows of the Silver Spires.
Markil walked down the corridor, led by a young elf maid. She was carrying a stack of towels, her hands trembling slightly.
She stopped in front of a polished oak door.
"Sir," she whispered, not daring to look him in the eye. "This is your room."
Markil looked at the door, then at her. He flashed a warm, genuine smile.
"Thank you," Markil said. "I appreciate it."
The maid's face turned bright red. She squeaked, bowed clumsily, and practically ran away down the hall.
Oh my god, she thought, clutching the towels to her chest. Why is my heart beating so fast? I thought all humans were ugly monsters… but he… he smiled at me! He's so… handsome!
"Ooo! What am I thinking?!" she shouted, then clamped a hand over her mouth and sprinted around the corner.
Markil chuckled, watching her go. He opened the door.
"Wow."
The room was huge. A canopy bed with silk sheets, a balcony overlooking the city, and a painting of a silver forest on the wall.
"I didn't think they'd give me the VIP suite," Markil muttered, flopping onto the bed. "I expected a broom closet."
He stared at the ceiling.
So… after I healed Elrond yesterday, they treated me like royalty. No more glares. No more insults.
And tomorrow… I leave for the mission.
A rescue mission. Saving elf slaves from human kingdoms.
Markil closed his eyes, sinking into the soft mattress.
"Finally. I can sleep. Just a normal, peaceful—"
The silence hit him first.
The ticking clock on the wall stopped.
The chirping of the birds outside ceased.
The dust motes floating in the sunbeam froze in mid-air.
Markil's eyes snapped open.
"Don't tell me…"
He sat up.
There, in the center of his luxurious room, was a swirling, dark purple rift.
The Portal.
"Why?!" Markil groaned, throwing his hands up. "Why, why, why the fuck! Can't I have one nap?!"
He got up and walked to the window. Outside, the world was paused. An elf guard was mid-yawn. A bird was suspended in the sky.
"It's the same as Thoos," Markil whispered. "Time has stopped."
He looked at the portal. It pulsed with a menacing energy.
If I'm going to help the elves… I have to be stronger.
Thoos gave me a foundation, but the world is big.
Maybe… this portal is another training arc? Or a boss fight?
Why does it open now? Why do I have to fight alone?
He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment.
Then, he smiled. A dangerous, excited smile.
"Whatever. The stronger the enemy, the stronger I get."
He stood up, dusted off his clothes, and stepped into the void.
The Other Side
Markil stepped out onto grass.
"Whoa."
He wasn't in a red dimension this time. He was in a forest. A lush, vibrant forest under a bright sun.
But the air… the air smelled like sulfur and old blood.
Markil looked forward.
In a clearing, a massive army of monsters stood frozen in formation. Orcs, goblins, beasts with too many eyes.
And in front of them, sitting on a horse-like creature made of bone and shadow, was him.
The General.
A towering demon. Four grey horns curled from his head. White fire hair flowed upward against gravity. A whip-like tail twitched behind him.
Black armor that absorbed light.
In his hand—
Name:Warfer, Sword of Judgment
Type: Serrated Greatsword
Material: Cursed Nether-Steel
The blade vibrated with thousands of tiny teeth. A glowing purple blood channel pulsed down its center.
Okay, Markil thought. Final boss energy. Great.
The demon's glowing white eyes locked onto him.
Markil felt fear—but crushed it.
The stronger the enemy, the better the loot.
"ASLER!" Markil shouted.
Nothing happened.
He stepped forward.
SHING.
Cold.
His body split.
"WHAT?!" Markil screamed. "I died?!"
Reset.
Again.
Again.
Pain. Cold. Darkness.
Markil staggered back, clutching his throat.
I felt it. This isn't fake.
The demon finally spoke.
"Human."
BOOOM.
The ground cracked. Markil coughed blood.
"You fought Thoos, didn't you?"
"You know him?"
"He was my annoying neighbor, You can say the world's are connected. This is my Realm."
Markil clenched his fists.
"Give me answers!"
"So impatient."
"My name," the demon said calmly, "is Balor. King of Monsters."
Markil stared him down without meeting his eyes.
Instant recovery. Just don't lose my head.
Balor chuckled.
"Do you know why I hate humans?"
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"
Balor's voice dropped.
"They ask why the world hates them.
They never ask who taught the world how to hate."
Markil paused.
"…That was actually good."
Balor vanished.
Then—
BOOOOOOOOM!
Impact. Destruction. Silence.
Balor hovered above.
"Relax. I won't kill you yet."
Purple light flared.
Markil exploded upward—
POW!
Balor reeled.
"Impressive."
"I don't need a weapon," Markil spat. "I've got these."
"Invisibility. Krowes."
Pain. Blows. Darkness.
Chaos has disturbance.
Markil grinned.
"Gotcha."
ASLER!
SLASH.
Balor screamed.
"You look down on us!" Markil roared.
"Because you've never known loss!"
"That's why you'll never understand resolve!"
Balor fled.
"KILL HIM!"
Markil raised his blade.
"Ashen Dominion."
Fire erased everything.
Only blood remained.
Markil stood alone.
"Run," he whispered.
"Next time… I'm taking the other arm."
(Chapter 25 Finished)