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Synopsis
THE BLACK FIRE OF THE END

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Chapter 1 - COLD FIRE

In a hellish arena, among a huge number of burned corpses, only one team decided to continue advancing with the aim of extinguishing the fires of hell, three men described as the strongest and bravest throughout the ages, they decided to walk on piles of charred corpses and breathe the air soaked with coagulated blood.

This raid was humanity's last hope, but..... humans were much weaker than expected, in the end we did not face any enemy, and all the burned corpses were the result of adventurers' suicide attempts, and hundreds of them are still screaming from the pain of burning themselves in the black flames of the last floor of the dungeon, the dungeon where our eternal enemy resides, (the demon of the black abyss)

In the end I could not continue with them, the love of life or the fear of death, I could not overcome any of these weak feelings, my three friends continued walking towards the devil, and all I could see was their shadow moving further and further away, damnation... damnation of this weakness.

While the heroes were advancing into hell, everyone who remained alive and did not burn themselves, escaped from the cell with humiliation drawn on their faces, one by one, only me remained inside the cell waiting for the heroes to bring us the news of victory. While I was in that place, those charred corpses began to stand, my tongue was unable to express, and anger had reached its limits, the corpses of my dead colleagues were ignited by the cursed fire as they headed towards the heroes, I was certain that this was the work of the devil of hell, at this moment the love of honorable death exceeded the love of life, at least I will cleanse the corpses of my brothers from these cursed fires even if it is the last thing I do in my life. I raised my huge sword that was scattered on the ground, and stood tall in the path of the corpses. I am the last line of defense protecting the heroes, facing a huge army of those who were in the position of my brothers. Every wave of that sword brings back a happy memory and a painful one that I lived with them. Every head that I smashed and ground was the head of someone dear to me. Every moment I remember increases the bitterness of the bitterness of the reality of my presence in hell.