The forest soaked in blood. Bodies piled up, torn apart. The air reeked of death.
Three knights stood, breathing hard. Then—
A blur. Fangs buried deep. "AAARGH—!" A crack. His spine snapped. His body dropped, twitching, eyes wide. Dead.
A second knight swung his sword, screaming. A hand caught the blade. A fist crashed into his face. CRACK. His head twisted—too far. His body slumped, spasming, mouth open but silent.
The last knight saw it all. His breath hitched. "No… No, no, no…" He turned, running.
A blood wolf slammed into him. Teeth sank into his leg. "AAAAAGHHH! PLEASE! HELP ME!" He clawed at the dirt, sobbing, kicking. More wolves pounced.
Ripping. Tearing.
"AAAAAAGH—!" His voice broke. Flesh peeled. A leg came off. His body convulsed. Hands clawed at the earth, nails snapping off.
Fangs in his gut. His ribs cracked open. Something yanked. His insides spilled onto the dirt.
His screaming faded. The wolves kept eating.
Then—DOOM.
The wolf's body erupted into meat and blood. Another was flattened beneath a boot, its ribs crushed to dust. The third had only a second to react—before a sword speared through its mouth, splitting its skull in two.
The captain had arrived.
No hesitation. No mercy.
A beast lunged. He caught its throat. It thrashed, claws raking his arms, but his grip was iron. With a brutal twist—SNAP!—the wolf went limp. He threw the carcass aside.
Another came from behind—he turned mid-air, sword flashing.
The beast split in two.
The remaining wolves hesitated. Then—they ran.
Not out of fear.
But because the real monsters had arrived.
A growl.
Then, the trees shattered.
A monstrous ogre emerged, muscles bulging, teeth dripping with gore. Behind it, demons circled, waiting, their hunger glowing in their eyes.
The captain spat blood.
"Come."
They charged.
The ogre swung its club—he dodged, barely. The impact shattered the ground. He countered, driving his blade through the beast's gut, twisting—intestines spilled onto the dirt.
A demon lunged—he grabbed its face and slammed it into the ground. The skull cracked.
Another came from the side—his sword took its head.
Kill. Dodge. Rip. Tear.
He was a storm of steel and blood.
Then—
Everything stopped.
The world felt heavy.
A force crashed down, obliterating the earth. An ogre and two demons were erased—nothing left but blood mist.
Then came the pressure.
Thick. Suffocating. Unnatural.
The captain's breath caught. His hands shook.
Something was coming.
Something far worse.
Then, from the darkness—Wrath.
His massive frame stepped forward, the ground cracking beneath his weight. His axe dragged behind him, leaving deep scars in the dirt.
The captain's pulse thundered.
"This isn't normal."
Wrath lifted his axe lazily. His eyes burned through the captain—empty, monstrous, beyond human.
"This isn't just an ogre."
He cracked his neck.
"This is a monster."
Then, he grinned.
"Finally."
And he moved.
BOOM.
The axe came faster than thought. The captain threw himself aside as the earth erupted, bodies disintegrating into blood mist.
He struck back—a blur of steel.
Wrath was already gone.
Then—PAIN.
A fist crashed into his ribs. His chest caved inward. Blood exploded from his mouth.
Then—another impact.
He flew—through trees, through bodies—before crashing into the ground, his bones screaming.
Wrath was already there.
The axe came down—he blocked.
KLANGGGG!
The shockwave tore through the battlefield. His arms burned, bones creaking under the force.
Wrath laughed.
"Is that all?"
The captain gritted his teeth.
He pushed back.
His sword twisted, cut, pierced flesh—
But Wrath didn't fall.
Instead—he grabbed the captain's face.
And slammed it into the earth.
BOOM.
Blood splattered.
The captain coughed, his vision flickering.
Wrath lifted him by the throat.
"Fight harder."
The captain gritted his teeth.
His sword—still buried in Wrath's side—began to glow.
Blue flames erupted.
Wrath's eyes flickered.
Above—Lilith watched, intrigued.
"Interesting."
The captain, bloodied, broken, smiled.
"If this doesn't kill you… I've failed my men."
Wrath felt it.
The shift. The surge.
Yes.
This was going to be fun.
Then—it happened.
The blue flames—gone.
Wrath's eyes narrowed.
The captain's heart stopped.
"No—"
Too late.
Wrath moved.
The captain swung blindly—desperate.
Wrath let the blade pierce his side.
Then—his fist sank into the captain's chest.
CRACK.
The captain gasped—blood poured from his mouth. His body convulsed.
Wrath didn't stop.
He grabbed the captain's arm—and ripped it from the socket.
The captain screamed.
Then Wrath broke his leg.
The captain collapsed, coughing blood, gasping, dying.
Wrath stood over him.
He raised his axe.
"You fought well."
Then—the axe stopped.
The captain, half-conscious, barely breathing, barely alive, saw something.
Wrath's expression had changed.
His eyes burned—not with amusement.
But rage.
He turned.
Lilith.
She smirked.
"You should be thanking me, Wrath."
Wrath leaving the captain.
He walked towards Lilith, slowly, the ground trembling beneath him.
Lilith's smirk faltered.
Then—Wrath swung his axe.
Lilith barely dodged. The force ripped apart the trees behind her.
She stumbled back, eyes wide.
"What the hell—"
Wrath glared. His voice was low, deadly.
"If you ever interfere in my fight again—"
He lifted his axe.
"I will kill you."
Lilith felt it.
A promise.
A warning.
She clenched her fists—but said nothing.
Wrath turned away. The battle was over.
The captain's body lay still, empty, cold.
Wrath looked at him for a moment.
"A warrior's death."
Then, without another word—he left.
The night air thick with the scent of blood and fear. Two knights leading the group of slaves through the dense forest, their breath ragged, their armor drenched in sweat. Behind them, the snarls of cursed blood wolves and the heavy footsteps of ogres thundered through the trees. The slaves—men, women, children—stumbled forward in desperation, clutching onto hope like a dying ember.
Then, they stopped.
A sheer cliff loomed before them, jagged rocks at its base, a raging river below. There was nowhere left to run.
Panic erupted.
Cries of despair filled the night as the reality of their situation sank in. A mother clutched her baby, whispering frantic prayers. A young boy sobbed, pulling at his father's sleeve. The older knight turned to face the coming horde, his sword trembling in his grip.
"We have to jump!" he barked. "It's the only way!"
"No!" A slave woman shrieked. "We'll die!"
"We'll die if we stay!" the knight shot back.
A chubby man staggered forward, eyes blazing with rage and terror. "This is your fault!" he spat, pointing a shaking finger at the knights. "If you hadn't destroyed our homes, we wouldn't be here! You should die, not us!"
Murmurs of agreement rose among the crowd, their terror turning to blind, desperate anger.
Raphael, barely able to stand, watched in disbelief. His vision swam, his body weak from exhaustion, but he saw the wolves—closing in, fangs bared, eyes glowing like embers.
And these people were fighting amongst themselves?
His blood boiled.
With a sudden burst of strength, Raphael lunged. The chubby man barely had time to gasp before claws tore into his stomach.
A wet, gurgling scream ripped through the air.
Raphael twisted his hand, feeling flesh tear, bone snap. The man's eyes bulged, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.
Raphael didn't stop.
He drove his claws deeper, deeper, until his fingers scraped the man's spine.
The screaming stopped.
The slaves recoiled in horror. Some clutched their mouths, others backed away, but there was no time to process what had just happened.
The wolves arrived.
A blur of black fur and crimson eyes crashed into the crowd.
Screams.
Blood.
A woman tried to run—jaws clamped around her throat, tearing it out.
A man shoved his child forward—he was dragged down, his bones snapping like dry twigs.
The older knight roared, hacking through the beasts, his sword carving arcs of flesh and gore. He fought like a man who knew he was already dead, each strike cutting down another wolf. But there were too many.
They swarmed him.
Teeth sank into his arms, legs—ripping, pulling.
His sword dropped.
They tore him apart.
The younger knight, eyes wild with horror, grabbed Raphael. "You have to survive!" he gasped.
A wolf lunged—he twisted, stabbing it through the skull.
Another leaped.
The knight shoved Raphael back—his body took the hit.
Fangs sank into his shoulder.
More wolves joined.
They dragged him down.
"GO!"
With all his strength, the knight shoved Raphael off the cliff.
Raphael's world spun.
The last thing he saw—
—was the knight, screaming as wolves ripped into him.
Blood sprayed. Flesh tore.
Then—
Darkness.
The icy river swallowed him whole.