"Trees, trees, and more trees," I muttered to myself as I trudged through the dense forest, practicing my magic along the way. Summoning sparks in my hands became easier with each attempt, but when I attempted to manipulate other elements, I discovered my abilities were limited. Frustrated, I continued my journey, oblivious to the voices and torchlights in the distance.
Seeking refuge, I stumbled upon a cave and decided to rest there for the night.
In the cave, I continued to practice my magic, casting spells to illuminate the dark surroundings and even creating a small campfire for warmth. Despite my efforts, I struggled to manipulate the existing flames, realizing that fire manipulation was beyond my current abilities.
I sighed deeply as I finally settled down on the cave floor, exhaustion washing over me. Closing my eyes, I sought some much-needed rest, only to be startled awake by a familiar scent of sulfur and intense heat.
Opening my eyes, I found myself in front of an imposing throne crafted from obsidian-like stone adorned with skulls and bones. The eerie surroundings sent a shiver down my spine, and I realized I was alone. Yet, there was an unmistakable urge beckoning me to sit upon the throne.
"No way am I falling for such an obvious trap," I muttered to myself, refusing to heed the silent call of the ominous seat. Instead, I cautiously glanced around the chamber, finding nothing of significance.
Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine as the temperature rose dramatically, and a guttural voice echoed in the chamber, filled with different tones and intonations.
"Are you rejecting our gift?" the voice demanded, sending a shiver through my entire being.
Turning towards the throne, I beheld a demonic child with a smile that could freeze one's blood. Fear gripped me as I faced the entity, realizing the gravity of the situation.
"We offer you the throne of Kha-Beleth, and you dare refuse?" the voice thundered, its force sending me flying backward with terrifying power.
"We are the first, we are your Father, and yet you reject our gift?" A colossal hand descended from above, blotting out the sky, and I felt a burning sensation stirring within me.
Without warning, my hands instinctively reached for a sword embedded within me, drawing it forth with a surge of energy. With trembling hands, I pointed the sword defiantly towards the descending hand, bracing for impact.
As the hand made contact with my blade, darkness enveloped me, and I awoke with a startled cry, my heart racing with fear. Glancing around the cave, I noticed a red sword lying nearby, its ominous presence sending shivers down my spine.
"So, dreams can influence reality," I mumbled, trembling with apprehension. "If this child demon really exists, I am in deep trouble."
I picked up the sword from the ground, finding its weight heavier than in the dream. It was a massive greatsword made of a strange material that resembled demonic flesh and armor, much like my own.
Exiting the cave, I realized that the day was already well underway. From my vantage point, I could see a small city nestled around a lake below.
"I didn't notice the city yesterday," I muttered to myself, chiding my lack of observation skills.
As I gazed at the city, I noticed banners fluttering in the breeze. One caught my eye—an emblem resembling the Stormwind insignia.
"Isn't that the Stormwind emblem?" I squinted, trying to make out the golden lion on a blue background.
Realization dawned on me. "So I'm in Warcraft," I concluded. "It was a good call not to reveal my demon form to humans."
"Now, I just need to figure out which year it is and which apocalypse will befall me next," I sighed, heading in the opposite direction of the city, towards the wilderness to avoid encountering humans. I feared them—Azeroth's humans were far stronger than those on Earth, and I didn't know if this city housed any mages, warlocks, or worse, priests of the Light.
My journey continued for hours, encountering nobody except sporadic animals that foolishly attacked me. They all met the same fate, cut down by my sword in a single swing.
The sword felt like an extension of myself, and I found comfort in wielding it. It seemed to thirst for blood, and with each kill, I felt myself growing stronger. The change was subtle, but I was keenly perceptive in my new body.
Does this mean that my path to strength involves killing beings and consuming their souls? How repulsive. Something that struck me was my increased height—I was much taller than before. At first, I didn't realize how large I had become, but upon seeing my reflection in a nearby body of water, I was astonished. My head couldn't even fit in the puddle.
Staring back at me was the visage of a Hellcaller from Might and Magic—a hero class for the Inferno faction, adept at melee combat and summoning demons. Hellcallers were exceedingly rare, feared for their ability to summon hordes of demons to overwhelm their enemies in battle. Hellcallers were the most liked demons by their fellows, they were after all one of the only gateway from their prison world.
So I found myself as a demon not aligned with the Burning Legion, yet with the potential to summon my own legions. However, I refused to embrace the monstrous path that led to the downfall of beings like Kha-Beleth. I held respect for him, acknowledging his role as the mastermind behind the destruction of Ashan. He was a genius strategist, perhaps the only Hellcaller known, aside from Kiril in the campaigns, though that remained uncertain.
In the realm of Ashan, demons were creatures of emotion, governed by their bloodlines. The Six Overlords, the first demons created by Urgash, the Dragon of Chaos, were tasked with the destruction of Urgash's sister's creations. From them, the Princes were born, who in turn spawned the other demons destined to ravage Ashan in the end.
"So, if I understand correctly, I am an extradimensional demon with the ability to summon others," I mused, a smile playing on my lips as I surveyed the scene of a destroyed merchant cart, blood staining the ground.
As I surveyed the scene, a sense of anguish filled the air, accompanied by ethereal orbs drifting toward the sky. My frown deepened as I recognized them as souls, severed from their mortal vessels. Glancing downward, I beheld the bodies of numerous individuals, some armed, others not. Among them lay a woman cradling a young boy, their forms torn and mutilated, evidence of a gruesome fate.
Disgust twisted my features as I took in the carnage surrounding me. This was no act of mere beasts; had it been, there would be little left but scattered remains. "Perhaps Orcs," I mused aloud, considering the possibility of their presence.
Suddenly, a foul odor reached my nostrils, the unmistakable stench of unwashed bodies, signaling that danger may still be near.
Amidst the chaotic scene, the distinct cackling of Gnolls echoed through the air, signaling their presence. "Gnolls? But why leave the bodies untouched?" I pondered briefly as I gripped my sword tightly.
A sharp whistle cut through the air, prompting me to swiftly dodge to the right as a volley of arrows whizzed past where I had been standing just moments before.
The Gnolls wasted no time, charging at me with reckless abandon. Despite their small stature compared to my towering form, they were fierce opponents. I swung my sword with all my might, cleaving through the first Gnoll's flesh as his feeble wooden shield shattered under the force of my blow.
Two more Gnolls pressed their attack, one wielding a sword and the other a flail. I deftly avoided the first strike and retaliated, my sword finding its mark with deadly precision. As the life left his body, I felt his soul merge with my blade.
In a swift motion, I unleashed a small fireball from my hand, engulfing one of the archers in flames. Yet, the remaining Gnolls continued to rain arrows down upon me, their determination unyielding.
The arrows bounced harmlessly off my armor, but I still felt the impact reverberate through me like a gentle touch.
The Gnoll's flail struck my head, causing me to stagger momentarily. However, I quickly regained my footing and retaliated with a powerful swing of my sword, cleaving the Gnoll in two.
'This is exhilarating!' I thought, a bloodthirsty grin spreading across my face as I charged towards the remaining Gnolls. Two more fireballs erupted from my hands, engulfing the archers in flames and sending them writhing in agony.
With a maniacal laugh, I lunged at the remaining Gnolls, who snarled defiantly in response. Leaping into the air, I brought my sword down with tremendous force, slicing through one Gnoll and leaving the other momentarily stunned. Seizing the opportunity, I grabbed the Gnoll by the throat and swiftly tore out its throat with my bare hands.
I felt a surge of danger as I spotted the smallest Gnoll, a Shaman, crackling with lightning aimed at me. Reacting swiftly, I hurled my sword like a javelin, skewering the Shaman to the ground.
"ARGH!" Pain shot through me as a Gnoll's sword pierced through the joints of my armor, near my left arm, drawing blood. With a roar of fury, I swung around and pulverized the attacker's head with a powerful punch.
Surveying the remaining foes, only three remained. Without hesitation, I charged at them. One attempted to strike me with his sword, but I dodged and swiftly dispatched him with a devastating blow.
The other two Gnolls charged at me, their weapons raised. Grabbing my sword from the impaled Shaman's body, I wielded it with one arm, my injured left arm hanging limp. With a fierce smile, I met their charge head-on. Dodging a sword strike, I impaled one Gnoll, then dropped my sword to evade a spear thrust. Seizing the spear, I turned it on its owner, impaling him before shattering his body.
Breathing heavily, I collapsed to the ground, feeling fortunate to have emerged victorious from the skirmish. It was a crude battle, devoid of any real technique, much like myself. In the end, it came down to sheer physical strength.
Examining my injured arm, I watched as orange blood oozed from the wounds, searing the ground like molten magma upon contact. "So my blood is that hot?" I pondered aloud, observing the unusual phenomenon.
Realizing that traditional bandages would be of little use, I opted for a more unconventional approach. Concentrating my magic, I directed flames toward the wound, cauterizing it with a crude application of fire. While my technique was far from perfect, it effectively stopped the bleeding.
As a demon, fire was akin to a soothing bath for me, and I found comfort in its warmth. I sighed with relief, grateful to have avoided further suffering.
With my wounds treated, I stood up, feeling depleted but gradually regaining my strength. Surveying the scene around me, I noted the gnoll bodies, each bearing signs of brutal violence. Their heads were crushed or severed, a feat not typically achievable by humans. Well, not by ordinary humans at least. Varian, on the other hand, was a different story. He was a monster in his own right, capable of such gruesome acts without hesitation.
Not everyone possesses Varian's strength and ferocity. I must be cautious, avoiding human settlements and leaving no trace behind. I have no desire to be hunted down by mages from the Council of Tirisfal or by zealous followers of the Holy Light.
Jogging towards the mountains, I maintained a steady pace, knowing I could replenish my stamina using my mana reserves. It was a newfound ability I discovered after the fight, a remarkable power to control my own energy.
Reflecting on the battle, I harvested a dozen souls, but I resolved to only take those of scoundrels or animals. I didn't want to descend into psychopathy. Though during the fight, I must admit, I felt a disturbing thrill as I tore through my adversaries. It was a disconcerting realization, but as a demon, perhaps some changes to my psyche were to be expected.
With a determined grin, I tightened my fists and cast my gaze towards the sky.
"Let's see just how far I can push myself in this new life," I thought to myself as I pressed onward, running towards the horizon.
–
Well that'll be all for this chapter
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See you soon :)