The Heavenly Demon of Terror

I walked through the dimly lit streets of the ruined city, my boots crunching against the cracked stone roads.

The air was thick with the scent of old dust and the faintest hint of something... nostalgic.

I rubbed my stomach as it growled. "Damn... all that fighting made me hungry. What the hell do people even eat in a place like this?"

Looking around, I noticed a few makeshift stalls—some run by survivors, others by merchants who had taken the risk of setting up shop in the Forsaken Lands. Their wares were... questionable, to say the least.

One old man stood behind a wooden cart, stirring something in a large pot. His tattered cloak barely covered his skeletal frame, but his eyes were sharp. As I approached, he gave a crooked smile.

"Ah, a traveler. You must be starving."

I raised an eyebrow. "Depends. What are you selling?"

The old man chuckled, lifting a ladle filled with thick, bubbling stew. "Forsaken Beast Stew. Meat from creatures that roam these lands, slow-cooked with rare herbs. It'll fill your belly and sharpen your senses."

I sniffed the air. It actually smelled... pretty good. "What's the catch?"