The Demon's Last Stand
In the land of Arnak, where towering mountains scraped the heavens and the earth thrummed with the remnants of ancient power, a battle raged that would shape the fate of the world. The winds carried ash and the cries of
warriors and the sky was painted in hues of crimson and black as if mourning the inevitable tragedy.
At the center of the battlefield stood Alex Benjamin, the Mythical Sword Master, wielding his legendary blade, Eclipse Reaver, a weapon forged from celestial fire and tempered with the blood of fallen stars. His
crimson eyes burned with defiance as he faced the 10 Supernova, warriors renowned across Arnak as the mightiest champions of their age.
They called him the Great Demon, the scourge of Arnak, the breaker of kingdoms. But Alex's voice cut through the chaos with righteous fury.
"You call yourselves saviors, yet all I see are hypocrites clinging to power," he snarled, his voice laced with both anger and pain.
The 10 Supernova, clad in armor glowing with divine sigils, unleashed their most devastating techniques. Each attack was a masterpiece of destruction: elemental storms, ethereal chains, and otherworldly blades
that rent the fabric of reality itself.
But Alex was no ordinary swordsman. As the first Mythical Sword Master, he had mastered countless arts, but none were as feared as his Soul-Destroying Sword Technique.
"Demonic Soul Destruction!" he roared, channeling every ounce of his strength into a single, cataclysmic strike. The ground beneath him cracked and groaned as waves of black and crimson energy erupted, shattering the
combined might of the Supernova's supreme attacks.
The Price of Power
Despite his victory, Alex was gravely wounded. Blood poured from countless cuts, staining the earth beneath him. His breathing was labored, yet his eyes remained defiant. The 10 Supernova, battered and exhausted,
exchanged glances. Desperation gleamed in their eyes as they formed a final strategy.
"Formation of Judgment!" one of them cried, and the others responded in unison.
Their combined attack took the form of a blinding spear of light, an unstoppable force meant to end even the strongest foe. Alex, too weak to counter, stood his ground. As the spear pierced him, a soft smile touched his lips.
"Perhaps… in another life…"
The light consumed him, and the battlefield fell silent.
The Abyss
Alex awoke to darkness—a suffocating void. He floated aimlessly, his thoughts spiraling into despair.
"Why did it come to this? I only wished to bring peace… to protect the innocent…"
The memories of betrayal and hatred replayed in his mind like a cruel theater. But then, a glimmer of light appeared in the distance, faint and fragile, like a flickering star.
Driven by instinct, Alex reached for it, his soul clawing through the abyss. The light grew brighter, enveloping him.
When he opened his eyes, he felt pain—sharp, unrelenting pain that radiated from every inch of his body.
A New Beginning
Alex found himself in a cold, damp room, the iron bars of a jail casting shadows on the stone walls. The air reeked of rot, and his body felt unfamiliar—smaller, weaker. Staggering toward a bucket of
water, he gazed into its surface and froze.
The reflection staring back at him was not his own. It was the face of a young man, no older than 17, with sharp features and piercing golden eyes. Panic gripped him until a searing headache forced memories
into his mind, memories that weren't his.
His name… no, this boy's name… was Leorion Von Lionheart, the second prince of Velkran. He had been abducted, tortured, and left in this prison to rot.
Alex—or rather, Leorion—gripped the edges of the bucket, his mind racing.
"This boy… his life was stolen from him, just as mine was. But if this is my second chance…"
A flicker of determination lit within him. For now, he would survive, reclaim his strength, and uncover the truth of both his death and this new life. The story of the Great Demon was far from over.