When Eran stepped out of the ruins, he found the entire city engulfed in war. Demons and humans clashed amidst the wreckage of what had once been a proud stronghold. Buildings lay in crumbled heaps, flames devoured the sky, and the air was thick with the cries of dying men and screaming children.
Eran stopped, his bare feet sinking into the blood-soaked ground. For a moment, confusion clouded his face, his crimson eyes flickering. But then, slowly, a twisted smile spread across his lips.
A demon lunged at him, sword flashing. Eran moved without thinking—disarming the creature with a brutal strike and seizing its weapon.
He gripped the sword tightly, his fingers white around the hilt. A manic laugh tore from his throat.
"I like this," he whispered—then shouted—"I like this very much!"
The blade in his hand began to glow, a sinister red light seeping from it, as if it were bleeding. Without hesitation, Eran charged into the chaos, the sword blazing.
He cut down everyone in his path—demon or human—it no longer mattered. Their faces blurred before his bloodstained vision. To Eran, there was no difference anymore. Everything had shattered. Everyone was the enemy.
Only blood, only death.
But then—
A piercing child's scream cut through the madness.
Eran froze mid-swing.
His heart skipped a beat as he turned, just in time to see a demon's claw tear through the fragile body of a boy—no older than Kael.
The memory of Kael and Lila flashed vividly before his eyes—their laughter, their warmth, and their brutal deaths.
Pain flooded back into Eran's heart, shattering the numbness.
The crimson glow in his eyes burned brighter, consumed by a rage beyond reason.
The demon who had slain the child melted into the chaos, but Eran no longer cared.
He became a beast , hunting anything that dared move.
Humans, demons—it didn't matter.
In his mind, they were all guilty.
All fighting for their own selfish reasons, all feeding the endless cycle of death.
The ground grew slick with blood.
Bodies stacked higher.
But the hollow ache inside him remained.
Through the swirling smoke, Eran spotted the demon—the one who had killed the child.
Fury roared in his veins.
He hurled his sword with all his strength.
It tore through the air and struck the demon's gut, ripping it open.
The creature crumpled to the ground, twitching in its death throes.
But Eran's triumph turned to horror.
The blade had not stopped with the demon.
Behind it—unseen—a child had been standing.
The blade had gone straight through his small chest.
Eran staggered back, his breath catching in his throat.
The battlefield noise faded into a sickening, hollow silence.
He stared, rattled, unable to believe what he had done.
His mind went blank.
His sword dropped from his fingers, clattering against the blood-soaked ground.
For what felt like an eternity, he stood frozen, watching the child fall.
"I... I killed him," Eran whispered, his voice broken.
He dropped to his knees, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
"Still, he struggled to justify himself.
No, I haven't done anything wrong, he thought. I've been treated cruelly... I have the right to kill them all.
But then, a flicker of fear gripped him.
No... I'm becoming just like them—a monster."
Surrounded by the corpses of demons, humans, and innocents alike, Eran slipped into a trance.
I've become just like my uncle and aunt.
This power... this curse... it must have been bought with the lives of Kael and Lila.
I'm not worthy of them.
I should kill myself.
All of this... it's my fault.
The silence around him shattered.
From the hollow ruins ahead, the harsh clash of swords echoed, growing louder and louder—until it stopped.
Through the smoke, Eran saw them:
Three towering demons, monstrous and radiating raw power.
Opposing them stood two wounded men—one barely able to stand, the other collapsed, gasping his final breaths.
The kneeling man clutched his sword in trembling hands.
A roar, primal and furious, tore from his throat.
"Aaaaah!!"
Yellow blood oozed from every pore of his body, his rage pouring into the broken earth.
Eran could only watch, numb.
Then, in an instant, a terrifying battle exploded between the man and the three demons.
The force of their clash shattered the air.
Eran could barely follow—the flashes of swordlight, the shockwaves rattling the crumbling ruins.
Every roar from the man made the ground quake harder.
Every slash of his sword ripped through the battlefield like thunder.
Eran just stood there, hollow.
Maybe I should just die here too.
And then—
A flash.
A tearing pain.
Before Eran could even react, his body was ripped apart.
His arm severed.
His legs giving out.
It happened so fast he barely understood.
He collapsed into the blood-soaked ground, broken, bleeding, and fading.