Upon noticing the distinctive mark on the ogre's shoulder, Carl's thoughts were carried away to a time long past, a time when the world had been ravaged by the malevolent presence of Shegar and the havoc caused by the demon lord army. The memory of Shegar's mark, an indelible symbol of destruction, lingered in his mind, haunting him still.
Dean, sensing Carl's troubled state, flashed a reassuring smile and approached his young friend. "Why the worried face, Carl?" he inquired, his voice filled with genuine concern. Carl sighed, unable to shake off his anxiety, as he looked at Dean.
"Do you think the Demon Lord has returned from the depths of death?" Carl asked, his voice tinged with both fear and disbelief. Dean chuckled softly, finding the notion to absurd to be said loudly.
