The protagonist took a step forward, the muscles in his body tensing as he prepared for what was to come. Suddenly, he felt a dizzying sensation overcome him, and his eyes closed involuntarily. When he opened them again, he found himself enveloped in a thick, black fog with a distinct metallic scent, and he knew that his inner demon had taken control.
The maniac's eyes had transformed into a menacing shade of red, and his once-calm demeanor was replaced with a bloodlust that knew no bounds. He sniffed the air, detecting the location of the Admirals who were trying to retreat and call Lord Helios for reinforcements.
Aello, one of the Admirals, noticed the change in him first and warned the others with a sense of urgency, "Watch out, everyone! He's not the same as before. We need to contact Lord Helios immediately!" But the warning came too late, and the maniac was already upon them.
With a fierce determination, the maniac approached the Admirals. His eyes glowed with a menacing red hue, and his body moved with an otherworldly grace. He closed in on Aello, who attempted to shield the others with her magic, but the maniac's bare hands easily broke through it, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
The maniac's movements were quick and precise, and the Admirals were unable to keep up with his agility. Crius, in his golem form, roared and charged at the maniac with all his might, but the maniac was too fast. He dodged Crius's attacks with ease, and with one swift movement, delivered a crushing blow that shattered the golem's skull.
Alastor, the commander of the air, tried to take to the skies to avoid the maniac's reach, but the maniac was not to be outdone. He leaped up with inhuman speed, grabbed Alastor by the legs, and slammed him down onto the ground with bone-shattering force. The sound of bones breaking filled the air as Alastor let out a blood-curdling scream.
Bellerophon, who had earlier attempted to ambush the maniac, now stood before him.
The maniac's eyes gleamed with bloodlust. Without warning, the maniac charged forward with a ferocity that seemed almost inhuman. Bellerophon swung his sword with all his might, aiming for the maniac's neck, but the maniac was too fast, too agile.
With a swift motion, the maniac grabbed Bellerophon's sword mid-swing and snapped it in half with ease. Bellerophon stumbled backward, his eyes widened with shock, and the maniac seized the opportunity to strike. He lunged forward, his fingers extended like sharp claws, and dug them deep into Bellerophon's chest with a sickening squelch.
Blood gushed out of Bellerophon's chest, and he let out a strangled cry of agony. The maniac grinned wickedly, his teeth stained with blood, and twisted his fingers inside the Admiral's chest cavity. Bellerophon's eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell to the ground with a thud, dead before he hit the ground.
"Hahaha. Nice fresh meat. I love bloody Köfte," he giggled loud and looked Chrysaor the last Admiral standing.
The maniac stood over the Admiral's lifeless body, his breathing heavy with excitement, and reveled in the rush of power coursing through his veins. He licked the blood off his fingers with a twisted pleasure, savoring the metallic taste of death.
His eyes flickered with a wild, feral light, and he turned to face the remaining Admirals, who stood frozen in terror at the sight of what he had just done. He let out a low growl, and his body tensed as he prepared to strike again.
The air was thick with the stench of blood and death, and the ground was slick with crimson. The maniac's eyes burned with a cold, unfeeling rage, and his body trembled with adrenaline as he prepared to claim his next victim.
Chrysaor knew that he was no match for the maniac's otherworldly strength and agility, and fear gripped his heart as he braced himmselve for what was to come. The maniac took a step forward, and the sound of his heavy breathing echoed through the silence.
In that moment, that monster was like a wild animal, a force of nature unleashed upon the world, driven by an insatiable hunger for blood and destruction. Chrysaor knew that he had no hope of stopping him, and he prepared himmselve for the worst as the maniac closed in on them with a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes. He needed to contact Lord Helios it did not matter how.
Chrysaor, the last commander standing, tried to reason with the maniac, but his words fell on deaf ears. The maniac's eyes burned with a cold, unfeeling rage as he closed in on Chrysaor. He moved with an eerie calmness, his movements calculated and precise. Chrysaor attempted to dodge the maniac's attacks, but the maniac was too skilled.
The maniac grabbed Chrysaor by the throat and lifted him off the ground, his fingers digging deep into the Admiral's flesh. Chrysaor struggled for air, his face turning red as the maniac's grip tightened. The sound of bones crunching filled the air as the maniac squeezed harder, crushing the life out of Chrysaor with his bare hands.
The maniac stood there, drenched in blood, his body trembling with adrenaline and his eyes still glowing with a menacing red hue. The black fog that had enveloped him had now absorbed the Admirals he had easily defeated, and their souls seemed to swirl within it like vengeful spirits.
His hands were covered in blood, the crimson liquid dripping down his fingers and onto the ground below. His chin was also stained with blood, which he had licked off during the battle with a twisted pleasure. The metallic scent of blood mixed with the acrid smell of the black fog, creating a potent aroma that made the air thick with dread.
The Maniac's aura was one of pure murder, as if he were a force of nature unleashed upon the world. His smile was fearsome, his teeth stained with blood, and his eyes seemed to glow even brighter with the thrill of the battle. He felt a sense of satisfaction and power that he had never experienced before, and it was intoxicating.
As he stood there, basking in the aftermath of the battle, the black fog slowly dissipated, leaving behind a trail of destruction and death. The Maniac remained standing, his body still trembling with adrenaline, but his eyes had returned to their normal color. He looked around at the devastation he had caused and felt a twinge of regret, knowing that he had allowed his inner demon to take over and cause such destruction.
The Maniac knew that he had to control his inner demon, lest it consume him entirely. But for now, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction and power, as he had never felt before. He walked away from the battlefield, his blood-soaked hands hanging by his side, and disappeared into the night.