The Heavenly Demon of Terror

Samuel's POV

The ruins stretched endlessly before me, the echoes of the past whispering through the cracked stone and broken pillars.

I had fought my way through hordes of Forsaken Guardians, their bodies crumbling into dust beneath my fists.

The weight of my Abyssal Command and Dragon Fear Roar had sent lesser foes running, but those who remained were relentless, throwing themselves at me with the blind fury of those who knew nothing but duty and death.

And I relished it.

I cracked my neck, rolling my shoulders. My body was battered, my knuckles split from the relentless barrage of blows I had exchanged.

But the fire in my chest refused to die. I had not come here to take a throne. I didn't give a damn about ruling over some forgotten land.

I came here to test my limits.

To push beyond.

The last of the Forsaken Knights stood before me—a monstrous being clad in ancient, rusted armor, its skeletal form barely held together by the dark magic that animated it. The Final Guardian of the Throne.

Its hollow eyes burned with an eerie blue glow as it raised its massive, jagged greatsword. The sheer weight of the weapon cracked the stone beneath it.