The evening glow bathed the cobblestone streets of Galud in warm light, giving the town an almost picturesque charm. Children's laughter carried on the breeze, mingling with the soft hum of merchants closing their stalls for the day. To an outsider, Galud seemed untouched by the horrors consuming the empire—a prosperous haven amidst chaos.
But beneath its surface lay the rot.
At the heart of the town stood Leonard Durk's grand manor, its shadow looming over the streets. For years, Leonard's silver tongue and iron fist had kept the town running smoothly, though not without cost. To those who prospered under his rule, he was a savior. To those who suffered, he was a tyrant.
Tonight, the façade of peace began to crumble.
Leonard stood alone in the grand hall of his manor, the faint glow of a brazier casting jagged shadows on the walls. His once-proud stance was hunched, his broad shoulders trembling under the weight of an unseen force.
In his hand, a dark sigil burned faintly, its energy pulsing in rhythm with his racing heartbeat. Crimson veins snaked up his arm, their glow eerie and unnatural.
"Power beyond imagination," he whispered, the words reverent yet bitter.
Weeks earlier, one of the 7 Lower Demons' agents had approached him. The empire had demanded more taxes, more resources, more soldiers—always more. Leonard had grown tired of bending to their will. When the demon's offer came, it had seemed like an answer to his prayers.
But he hadn't prayed for this.
Leonard's body ached, his veins throbbing with the unholy energy coursing through him. His mind teetered on the edge of reason, consumed by violent urges he could no longer suppress.
Tonight, he would embrace them.
* * *
Outside the manor, unease rippled through the town. The bustling evening chatter had quieted, replaced by nervous whispers. The manor's usual glow was absent, its windows dark like empty eyes.
"Something's wrong," murmured an elderly woman, clutching her shawl tightly as she eyed the looming structure.
"Lord Durk hasn't been seen all day," her neighbor replied, her voice tinged with unease. "I heard strange sounds from the manor last night. Like growling."
A small crowd began to gather near the gates, their curiosity tinged with fear. They whispered amongst themselves, torn between concern for their ruler and the nagging instinct to stay far away.
The heavy doors of the manor creaked open, and the crowd fell silent.
Leonard stepped into the dim light, his imposing frame cloaked in shadow. His once-pristine attire hung loosely on his frame, his skin pale and stretched tight over sharp features. Crimson light glinted in his eyes, faint but unmistakable.
"Lord Durk!" called a brave soul from the crowd. "What's happening? Is everything alright?"
Leonard didn't respond. His steps were slow and deliberate as he descended the stone stairs. The air around him seemed to thrum with an oppressive energy, causing the onlookers to shift uncomfortably.
From the crowd, a young farmer broke free, his face flushed with anger. "This is your fault!" he shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Leonard. "You've taxed us to the bone, left us to starve while you sit in your manor counting coin! You promised us peace, but all you've brought is suffering!"
The murmurs of agreement emboldened the farmer, and he stepped closer. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"
Leonard stopped at the base of the stairs, tilting his head as if considering the man's words. Slowly, his crimson eyes met the farmer's, and for a moment, the crowd thought they saw a flicker of sorrow.
But then Leonard moved.
With inhuman speed, his hand shot out, seizing the farmer by the throat and lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. Gasps erupted from the crowd as the farmer's legs kicked uselessly in the air.
"You dare speak to me of suffering?" Leonard growled, his voice guttural and alien. "Do you think I don't know what it means to sacrifice?"
The farmer's face turned pale, his hands clawing desperately at Leonard's grip. But Leonard's claws tightened, and with a sickening crack, the farmer's body went limp.
The crowd screamed as Leonard dropped the lifeless body to the cobblestones, blood pooling beneath it.
Panic consumed the crowd. Women grabbed their children and fled, vendors abandoned their carts, and even the town guards faltered, their spears trembling in their hands.
"Run! He's a monster!" someone shouted, their voice breaking in terror.
Leonard stood amidst the chaos, his expression eerily calm. He watched the townsfolk scatter like insects, their fear feeding the insatiable hunger growing within him.
"I am free," he murmured, his voice low and reverent.
The dark energy coursing through him surged, and for the first time in years, Leonard felt truly alive.
"Leonard, stop!"
The shout cut through the din, and Leonard turned to see a familiar figure stepping forward. The town elder, a man who had served as Leonard's advisor for years, stood trembling but resolute.
"My lord, please," the elder begged, his voice thick with emotion. "This isn't you. Whatever has happened, we can fix it. The town needs you. Your people need you."
For a moment, something flickered in Leonard's expression. His hand twitched, and the glow in his eyes dimmed ever so slightly.
But the moment passed.
"They never needed me," Leonard said, his voice cold and hollow. "They needed a ruler. And now they have one."
With a swift motion, Leonard's claws slashed through the elder's chest. Blood splattered the cobblestones as the man crumpled to the ground, his lifeless eyes fixed on the one he had once served so loyally.
The screams grew distant as the last of the townsfolk fled into the night, leaving Galud eerily silent. Leonard stood amidst the carnage, his breath even and untroubled.
The weight of guilt, of remorse—once so familiar—was gone. In its place was something raw and primal.
Leonard tilted his head to the night sky, his lips curling into a faint smile. "I am no longer bound by their rules," he murmured. "No longer shackled by their expectations."
With each step, he felt the power within him grow. The name Leonard Durk would no longer be whispered with respect or even contempt—it would be spoken only in fear.
When dawn broke over Galud, the town was unrecognizable. Blood stained the cobblestones, abandoned belongings littered the streets, and the air was heavy with the stench of death.
Those who had escaped told stories of the horrors they had witnessed—a lord who had become a monster, a peaceful town turned into a nightmare.
And somewhere in the distance, Leonard Durk walked, a shadow of the man he once was.
He was no longer a lord.
He was no longer human.
He was something far worse.