In the heart of the Zolcan Dimension lay a desolate, arid terrain—a chosen battleground for the hundreds of thousands of Minotaurs congregating into two opposing armies, each commanded by an oversized Minotaur leader. Amidst this vast expanse, the leaders, eyeing each other with ominous intent, issued commands that resonated like primal roars—a cryptic language inscrutable to all but their own kind, signifying the commencement of a brutal war.
Spanning several hundred years, the conflict ravaged the Zolcan Dimension, expanding its reach until the entire realm lay ensnared in chaos. No race could escape the relentless turmoil wrought by the Zolcanian Minotaurs' war. Amidst this upheaval, the purification of the Minotaurs' blood hastened, birthing an era of intelligent Minotaurs—the "High-Minotaurs"—bestowing upon them the cognitive faculties that had hitherto eluded their race.
With the emergence of the High-Minotaurs, the tumultuous "Minus War" chronicled in the annals of Zolcan's history eventually concluded. However, far from ushering in an era of peace, the war's end heralded an age of conquest. The High-Minotaurs harbored ambitions of dominion over the entire Dimension, birthing the era of "Manus"—a prolonged epoch marked by subjugation and enslavement of other races.
Yet, even grandeur proves fleeting.
United under the leadership of the white-walkers, the Zolcanian races rallied together, initiating a new war against the Minotaurs. After years of relentless conflict, the Minotaurs met defeat. However, they were not granted peace. Their terrifying potential posed a threat, particularly their king, whose bloodline purity had surged to a staggering 99%. His fall, achieved only through the sacrifice of 27 race kings, spelled an era of relentless persecution for the Minotaurs.
Fast-forwarding 5,000 years,
Amidst the desolate forests of the Zolcan Dimension, a lone Minotaur, draped in blood-soaked garb and carrying the dismembered remnants of various races, stalked a path paved by the destruction wrought upon those who hunted his kind.
Abruptly, a portal materialized nearby, prompting the creature's curiosity. Without hesitation, it ventured through it, traversing dimensions in an enduring odyssey that frayed its sanity. Emerging into an unfamiliar realm teeming with tiny beings, hostility and fear greeted the Minotaur as it struggled to comprehend this unfamiliarity.
As it emerged from its state of disorientation, an onslaught of attacks from these minuscule creatures triggered a furious rampage, leaving a path of havoc and ruin in its wake. Attempts to cage it within a metallic prison only confined its movements, unable to comprehend its restraint.
Encounters with numerous weak and formidable auras outside its confinement fuelled its anticipation until, one fateful day...
The cage shattered, offering a fleeting glimpse of freedom and vengeance, only to confront another tiny creature, emanating an aura of absolute dominance. This diminutive figure invoked a rare sense of subjugation within the Minotaur, igniting a fiery anger and an uncontrollable urge to unleash fury upon this supposed oppressor.
As the clash ensued, the Minotaur found itself losing ground, overwhelmed by a relentless opponent. Desperation prompted a sacrifice, rendering its arms crippled—a temporary setback, albeit one that would take an eternity to heal.
Amidst the billowing smoke from its desperate gambit, the Minotaur witnessed the silhouette of its adversary, unscathed, approaching with an aura foretelling imminent demise. For the first time, the Minotaur experienced a primal emotion—fear.