Silence.
The red-robed man tried to crawl backward, but his body refused to move. His breath was labored, his chest felt tight, and fear had dug its claws deep into his mind.
In front of him, Gorath stood tall, his red eyes cold and unfeeling.
"Y-You…" the man tried to speak, but his voice was shaking.
Gorath simply stared at him expressionlessly. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he raised one hand into the air.
Instantly, a terrifying dark aura gathered around his arm, creating a vortex of energy that shook the ground around it.
The air turned heavy. A terrifying pressure enveloped the battlefield.
The red-robed man felt something deeper than mere fear. This was the certainty of death.
Realizing he had no choice, he tried to raise his sword—but it was too late.
Gorath smiled.
Then he whispered:
"Devour the weak… Abyssal Ruin."
BOOOM!
In an instant, the world changed.
The ground cracked. A black shadow surged from below, devouring the moonlight and swallowing everything around it. Screams echoed as the red-robed man's body was torn apart, dragged into a vortex of darkness.
He didn't have time to scream. No time to think.
Only darkness. Only emptiness.
And when everything returned to normal, only Gorath stood there.
He stared at his hands, feeling new energy flowing through him.
Stronger.
More bloodthirsty.
This was only the beginning.
And the world of men...
Will kneel before him.
The sky was dark. Storm clouds rumbled overhead, as if depicting the destruction that had just occurred.
Gorath stood amidst the shattered land, his body covered in blood—not his own, but the blood of his enemies. His eyes glowed red in the darkness, filled with unstoppable ferocity.
Around him, corpses were strewn.
Those who had once dared to oppose him were now nothing but food for the barren land.
But even though the battlefield was silent, Gorath was not satisfied.
He needed more power.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps could be heard in the distance.
Gorath turned his head. From the darkness, dozens of figures emerged.
Humans.
They were fully armed, their eyes filled with determination and fear.
A man in golden armor stepped forward, his sword gleaming in the moonlight.
"Monster… You have killed enough. We will not let you go any further."
Gorath grinned, revealing his sharp fangs.
"Will you not let me?"
He raised one hand, and shadows began to gather around him. Terrifying energy surged from his body, making the ground beneath him tremble.
The human soldiers tensed. They knew that if they did not attack now, they would all die.
Without warning, their leader charged forward, followed by his men.
Gorath narrowed his eyes.
His right hand moved through the air, creating a vortex of darkness. A destructive aura crept around him, swallowing the moonlight and creating an endless abyss in the world.
The soldiers froze.
They could sense the terrifying power that was about to be unleashed.
Gorath smiled coldly.
Then, he uttered the words that would change the world forever:
"Witness despair… Abyssal Calamity."
The wind swirled wildly, sweeping across the battlefield with terrifying force. The sky darkened, as if the night itself refused to witness what was to come next.
The energy Gorath released grew thicker, creating such a pressure that the human soldiers had difficulty breathing.
"What... is this?" whispered one of them, his knees shaking violently.
Their leader, still trying to maintain his courage, raised his sword high. "Do not be afraid! We can—"
He did not have time to finish his sentence.
BOOM!
A blast of darkness erupted from Gorath's hand, creating a vortex of destruction that instantly devoured the soldiers on the front lines.
Their screams echoed in the air, but only lasted for a moment before their bodies vanished without a trace.
The remaining soldiers froze. Fear gripped their hearts.
"This is not a fight we can win..." muttered one of them, dropping his sword.
However, their leader refused to give up. With the last of his strength, he charged forward, his sword gleaming in the remaining moonlight.
"DIE, MONSTER!!"
Gorath just stared at him emotionlessly.
He raised one hand, and suddenly a shadow emerged from the ground, grabbing the leader's leg.
The man gasped, his eyes wide. "What?!"
The shadow rose, wrapping around his body, pressing hard against his chest.
Gorath stepped forward.
He could see the fear in the man's eyes.
"You call me a monster..." he whispered, his voice low and cold.
He raised his right hand, dark energy flowing around it.
"...But you have not seen true darkness."
Then, he plunged his black claws into the man's chest.
"Abyssal Consumption."
In an instant, the leader's body shriveled, dry, as if all his life energy had been sucked out of him.
When Gorath withdrew his hand, all that was left was a mangled corpse—and new power pouring into his body.
He took a deep breath, relishing the sensation.
The remaining soldiers could only stare in fear.
Gorath glanced at them. "Now... it's your turn."
They screamed.
But there was nowhere to escape.
Hell has opened.