Chapter 2: Demon Officers
His body ached as the dragon's words echoed in his mind, haunting him like a bad dream. "Chosen by gods? Gruter? This has to be some twisted joke," he muttered to himself, still sprawled across the cold, blood-soaked ground. The night had grown darker, and the silence was deafening. Every breath felt like a struggle, every heartbeat a reminder that he was still alive.
Why me? he thought bitterly. His legs and arms throbbed with pain, making even the thought of moving unbearable. He knew he was far from safety, yet he had no idea where to go. He forced himself to sit up, despite the agony coursing through his body. The dragon was gone, leaving him with nothing but confusion and terror.
Just then, a low growl echoed in the distance. His senses sharpened. Something was coming. He could feel it in the air, a sense of dread creeping up his spine. Before he could react, a figure emerged from the shadows—a towering, grotesque being clad in black armor, its face obscured by a helm adorned with sharp, menacing horns.
"You," the creature hissed, its voice a chilling rasp. "The chosen one. You won't live to see the dawn."
His heart raced, panic gripping him. He tried to crawl backward, but his body betrayed him, weakened by his injuries. The creature stepped closer, and with a swift motion, it raised a gleaming sword, aiming for his throat.
Suddenly, a burst of light exploded between them, sending the creature flying back with a roar of fury. He blinked, dazed by the sudden brilliance. When the light faded, he saw them—three figures standing before him, each cloaked in dark robes and wielding strange weapons that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight.
The tallest of the three, a woman with piercing eyes and an aura of fierce power, stepped forward. "You're late," she said, her voice sharp. "We've been looking for you."
"Who… who are you?" he stammered, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.
"We are the Demon Officers," she replied, her eyes narrowing. "Servants of the gods, protectors of the chosen. And you—" she pointed her weapon at him, "—are the key to stopping Gruter."
He felt a rush of fear and disbelief. "Gruter? Why does everyone keep mentioning this Gruter? I don't even know who that is! I don't even know who I am right now!"
The woman sighed, exchanging a glance with her companions, a burly man with an axe strapped to his back and a slender figure cloaked entirely in shadow.
"Gruter is a name you will come to fear. He is the bringer of destruction, the demon who seeks to obliterate everything you've ever known. And you, whether you like it or not, have been chosen to stop him."
"Chosen?" he spat bitterly. "I can't even stand, let alone fight some… demon overlord. This has to be some kind of mistake!"
The woman's expression hardened. "The gods don't make mistakes. You were chosen for a reason. Now, get up. We don't have time for your self-pity."
Before he could protest, the burly man stepped forward, his face twisted in annoyance. "Enough talk," he grunted. "Let's move. We're already being hunted."
As if on cue, the ground beneath them trembled, and more growls echoed through the darkness. The woman cursed under her breath. "They've found us."
In the distance, several shadowy figures emerged, their eyes glowing with a malevolent red light. Demons. Dozens of them, advancing like a pack of wolves ready to tear their prey apart.
The slender figure, who had been silent until now, stepped forward, his hands weaving intricate symbols in the air. A barrier of shimmering light surrounded them, holding the demons at bay. But it was clear the barrier wouldn't last long.
"Get him up," the slender figure hissed, his voice low and urgent. "We need to leave—now!"
The burly man grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to his feet with surprising ease despite his wounds. "Stay close, or you're dead."
"I can't…" he began, but the woman cut him off.
"Yes, you can. You have no choice."
With that, they began to move, the demons snarling and clawing at the barrier as they made their way through the dark forest. His head spun, his heart pounded, and fear gnawed at him. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. But the pain in his body, the blood still trickling from his wounds, the terrifying growls of the demons—they all told him otherwise.
After what felt like an eternity, they stopped in a clearing. The slender figure dropped to one knee, visibly exhausted from maintaining the barrier. The woman and the burly man stood guard, their weapons drawn, eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger.
"You need to heal," the woman said, turning to him. "We can't protect you forever. The demons will keep coming, and Gruter's forces are growing stronger. If you don't accept your role, we're all doomed."
"I don't understand any of this," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Why me? Why now?"
The woman knelt beside him, her gaze softening for the first time. "You're not alone in this. We're here to guide you, to help you become what you were meant to be. But the time is running out. You have to decide—are you going to fight, or are you going to die?"
Her words struck him like a hammer. He looked at his trembling hands, then at the distant horizon where the first hint of dawn was beginning to break.
He didn't know what lay ahead, but one thing was clear—there was no turning back.
The gods had chosen him, and whether he liked it or not, his destiny was now entwined with theirs.
With a deep breath, he nodded.
"I'll fight."
The woman stood, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Good. Then welcome to the war, chosen one."
The dawn was coming, but with it, so was the darkness. And the battle for survival had only just begun.