On a desolate plain, devoid of any vegetation, the ground rumbles. The roars and screams of demonic beasts sweep the rocky landscape. Wave after wave of demonic beasts charges towards a large, green hill protruding from the rugged terrain. The power of this horde would be enough to conquer any planet it stepped on.

The roars of demonic beasts become louder as they near the hill, dampening the sense of unease permeating their surroundings. The horde mostly consists of demonic lords. Rows of demonic minotaurs form the vanguard of their charge, each equipped with a variety of weapons and armours.

A hundred meters from the hill, the wind picks up. It starts as a gentle breeze, barely noticed by the encroaching horde. Steadily, the breeze speeds up. With each meter, that the horde approaches, the wind picks up in speed. A violent gale awaits the demonic beasts as they reach a hundred meters from the hill.

The vanguard of minotaurs fearlessly cross the boundary of wind. Cheerful, childlike laughter echoes in the winds around them. Suddenly, the laughter stops, and a chorus of whispers takes its place. The minotaurs’ desperate gazes, fruitlessly scan their surroundings. Seemingly coming to a verdict, the whispers abruptly stop.

The winds become slower as its power becomes concentrated at different locations. Before the minotaurs can realise what’s happening, the winds are unleashed. Blades of wind, akin to artillery strikes, barrage the horde’s vanguard. Within seconds, the minotaurs are obliterated as the winds begin to pick up again.

Hesitation grips the next wave of demonic beasts, but before they can stop, a fierce aura bursts out from the back of the horde. The aura encompasses the near-endless horde, as the demonic beast lords tremble in fear. Without hesitation, they charge into the gale. Another barrage of blades of wind reign down from the sky as the slaughter resumes.

The blades of wind cull wave after wave of demonic beasts. Each meter the horde advances, countless demonic beasts are sacrificed. Seemingly unperturbed by the wanton loss of life, the demonic beasts refuse to back down.

In the middle of the battlefield, unnoticed by the crazed horde, strange energy appears. A giant, demonic wolf, carelessly storms into the energy. A single, pained roar is the last sound the wolf makes before it suddenly disintegrates into ash. Akin to fuelling a fire, the energy starts to expand and grow, consuming any demonic beast it encounters. In less than a minute, a dead zone forms in the horde.

The energy cloud, sated from consuming thousands of demonic beasts, stops expanding. It begins to coalesce into a form similar to the demonic portals. Completing its transformation, the energy starts dissipating as thousands of demonic beasts are ejected from within it. These demonic beasts, much lower in tier compared to the horde around them, are mercilessly trampled to death. Finally, a single human figure exits the portal as it completely disappears.

Centum’s eyes are hollow as he’s ejected into the middle of the demonic horde. He stands frozen, seemingly unaware of the situation he’s in. Holding the pearl, now much duller in colour, he’s lost in thought as a flood of different emotions threatens to overwhelm him. Anger, frustration and helplessness grip his heart as the scene of Mia sacrificing herself endlessly replays in his mind.

An enraged scream from a deformed, demonic lord, drags him back to reality; granting him no time to grieve. “What’s going on?!” Centum barely manages to ask as the demonic lord pounces on him. He dodges towards the side, avoiding the strike. “What, where am I?!” he shouts in bewilderment. Two more demonic lords pounce towards him, refusing to give him room to breathe.

He continues to evade their strikes as more demonic lords begin to attack. His eyes grow wide as he begins to understand his predicament. “Fine!” he snaps, “Let’s do it your way!” He hides the pearl inside of a pocket as he slings his white, metal tome into his hands. Carelessly, he pours unrestrained amounts of his power into it.

The tome bursts open, it’s numerous pages chaotically flipping between each other. A dreadful, primordial aura seeps into the surrounding as the tome begins to glow. “I don’t care anymore,” Centum mumbles in a defeated tone as the tome’s power reaches a peak. The battle halts as the horde’s attention divert towards him.

Comparable to a missile strike, the tome’s power explodes outward. Countless demonic lords are torn to shreds as a third of the horde is annihilated. The surviving demonic beasts freeze up in fear as the tome’s devastation becomes apparent. In the centre of a scorched crater, Centum falls to his knees. “I only managed this much, huh? I can't say that I’m surprised. Although simple and destructive, this is probably the worst way to utilise my tome’s power.”

His body feels heavy as he struggles to recover, “What kind of hell is this? There’s no energy in the air for me to absorb, how can anything survive here?!” His body grows weak as exhaustion starts to take over. Around the rim of the scorched crater, rows of demonic lords line up. Centum can only stare at the encroaching beasts as he struggles to remain conscious.

Enraged roars and screams fill the horde as they ready to swarm the crater; They’re waiting for an order from the horde leader. At the back of the horde, radiating a fierce aura, a distinctly humanoid, but completely demonic figure is deliberating his next order. Noticing Centum’s weakened state, a savage smile lines its face as it prepares to command.

Before it can sound the charge, the ground starts to shake, interrupting it. Previously, the demonic horde’s charge caused the ground to rumble, but this is different as if the very earth is being torn apart. The horde leader’s aura is dwarfed as another presence seems to awaken. With each second, the earthquake becomes worse, knocking centum onto his back.

On the edge of the battlefield, the green hill begins to rise towards the sky. Underneath it, four enormous, stone legs emerge, each fifty meters thick in diameter. Now wholly upright, the green hill towers over two hundred meters into the sky. A giant, turtle-like head, emerges from the hill as it scans the battlefield, coming to a stop on Centum.

In a slow, but an ancient voice, it speaks, “A new brethren has appeared, how strange? We’ve always been the same for so many millennia, but now we’ve changed. It might be his will that has brought this change, but it’s not my place to question his guidance.”

The stone turtle’s gaze focuses as it says, “Brothers and sisters, please go and retrieve our new sibling. He’s probably tired from his previous outburst and needs our support.” Cheerful, childlike giggles ring out again as the shapeless air begins to take on numerous forms.