The Den of Querion
Querion eyes closed, calm but heavy tone,
"That was the moment we truly understood who he was. He did exactly what Eldrin once said about him…"
Rakhad serious, doubtful,
"What! What did eldrin say?"
Ferin energetic, cutting in,
"Hey! Did you forget already? The unbreakable spirit of Shammroy since he was young!"
Meanwhile Zoick scans around him and notices that around his seats once filled with demons now empty.
Zoick curious,
"Where did all the demons go?"
Ferin steady,
"They went to train themselves — preparing for whatever comes next."
Rakhad thoughtful, intrigued,
"Ohhh… yeah. Continue."
Querion nodding, continuing,
"Right… as I was saying—"
The Offer of a Legion
Orian knelt, his massive frame trembling. Blood dripped down his chest — his own blood.
He clenched his wound, raising his head toward Shammroy with rage burning in his cosmic eyes.
Orian roared, surging forward — his enormous fist cutting through the air toward Shammroy's face.
But before the blow landed, Shammroy's calm voice sliced through the chaos.
Shammroy calm, commanding,
"Oye… join my legion."
The echo of those words froze the battlefield.
Orian's fist stopped midair. His eyes widened — disbelief consuming his wrath.
At the doorway, Querion and Ferin stared in shock.
Querion astonished whisper,
"Did he just ask him…?"
Ferin disbelief, eyes wide,
"Yes… but how!? How could a cosmic beast join his team!?"
Orian growled, his voice echoing through the dark chamber.
Orian snarling,
"What… do… you… say!?"
Shammroy steady and sharp,
"Don't you see? Every member of your clan was forged from the strongest bodies. None could pierce your skin — they died only from age or disease.
But today… I cut through your chest.
Can you imagine… what that means?"
Orian's furious breath slowed. He rose, shoulders broad and towering, studying Shammroy in silence.
Far away, Querion whispered to Ferin.
Querion confused,
"Why are they talking so low now?"
Ferin softly, wary,
"Maybe… they don't want us to eavesdrop."
Querion nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on them.
The Guardian's Command
Shammroy stepped forward, setting his sword down just a few feet away. His voice grew heavier — each word carried weight.
Shammroy firm, cold,
"Orian. You neither judged nobles nor commoners with equality. You obeyed only the orders of your cosmic god.
So tell me… will you join my legion — or not?"
Orian growling,
"What would I gain by joining you?"
Shammroy smirk forming,
"Soon… I'll change all of them.
Whether by changing their minds — or ending their lives."
The words struck Orian like thunder. His rage erupted.
Orian furious,
"What did you just say!?"
A burst of cosmic energy flared from Orian's body — the walls cracked under the force.
But Shammroy, eyes glowing pale gold once again, raised his hand and halted the energy without effort.
Shammroy low, controlled,
"Orian… I don't want to hurt you.
Because I already consider you one of my legion."
He pushes him with his energy . The pressure sent Orian crashing backward — skidding across the floor before slamming into the wall.
The beast's eyes widened. A crushing spiritual pressure bore down on him.
He felt it — the authority of Shammroy.
At the entrance, Querion and Ferin, bleeding and barely walking, whispered.
Querion weak,
"He… he's overpowering even Orian…"
Ferin astonished, breathless,
"It's like he's… ruling him."
Shammroy stepped toward Orian's grand throne — and sat upon it.
The aura of dominance filled the room. His voice thundered, deep and divine.
Shammroy commanding, echoing,
"Orian… I give you an order —
Be the guardian of this planet."
Orian's eyes widened. His body froze, his mind stunned.
He didn't move, didn't resist — the weight of the order rooted him still.
He remained kneeling, his rage replaced by silent awe — as if struck by something greater than fear.
The light dimmed. The screen faded.
The Fury of Kaelthor
On the evening sunlight, in the varnak house.
The heavy doors burst open with a thunderous slam.
Kaelthor furious, shouting,
"Gramps! Gramps!! GRAMPS!!!"
Varnak emerged from his chamber, startled.
Varnak concerned,
"What happened? Why are you shouting?"
Kaelthor burning with anger,
"What did you say to me!?"
Varnak confused,
"What!?"
Kaelthor yelling again,
"I said — what did you say to me!?"
Varnak stern, calming,
"Calm yourself first. Then tell me what I said."
Kaelthor took a deep breath, his fury dimming slightly.
Kaelthor controlled, bitter,
"You said that knowing about the extincted clan isn't necessary."
Varnak nodding,
"Yes. So what of it now?"
Kaelthor accusing,
"Then why do Threxius and Vilgrim know about the Kthai Clan, huh?"
The words hit Varnak like a blade. His eyes widened — a bead of sweat slid down his temple.
Varnak quietly, shaken,
"How… do you know that?"
Kaelthor firm,
"That's not the concern now. I just had information that Vilgrim's searching for one of the Powerstones of the Cosmic God —
the Impremium Stone.
You've lived long enough, Gramps. Tell me… where is it?"
Varnak's gaze dropped. His hands trembled slightly. After a pause, he spoke slowly.
Varnak grave tone,
"Listen, grandson. That stone you speak of — it has brought nothing but death and loss, past and in further future.
Because there's someone guarding it.
Someone no one can defeat… or even reach …or dare to challenge it.
Forget it. Erase it from your mind… before it erases you."
Varnak turned to leave, walking toward his chamber.
But Kaelthor's voice cut through the silence.
Kaelthor cold, provoking,
"Are you… afraid?"
Varnak stopped mid-step. His shoulders stiffened. He turned his head slowly.
Varnak low,
"What did you say?"
Kaelthor challenging,
"I asked — are you afraid?"
A long silence. Then Varnak's calmness shattered. His voice exploded in fury.
Varnak furious, trembling,
"Yes! I am afraid!
Because you don't know what he did in our era!"
He took a step forward, his eyes darkened with memory and rage.
When Kaelthor opened his mouth to speak, Varnak interrupted, voice breaking into a grim whisper.
Varnak haunted, cold,
"I'm… glad… that he isn't in your era."
The storm outside rumbled as the screen slowly faded to black.