Cursed Devourer

Malik stepped out of the ruins of the Grand Library, his armoured boots grinding against the shattered stone and scorched earth. The once-pristine structure, a sanctuary of knowledge, now lay in smouldering ruin, its walls blackened by the golden flames still licking at its foundation. Smoke billowed into the incoming night sky, casting eerie shadows across the city of Lochma.

The usually bustling streets were now silent- unnaturally so.

People had not seen what transpired within the library, but they had heard. The cries of the dying soldiers, the divine fire that consumed them, its heat felt by those spectating from blocks away. The raw power that had shaken the very bones of the city.

And now they watched. Now they could see.

From alleyways, behind broken windows, and from the rooftops above, the citizens of Lochma gazed upon him with terror-stricken faces, the burning figure that had an aura of instinctual danger.

Some fell to their knees in prayer, believing him to be a god descending in wrath. Others turned and ran, desperate to escape what they could not comprehend.

Malik stood motionless in the center of the street, his sword still smouldering with golden embers. The divine armour pulsed with raw energy, the molten veins of power shifting like living fire across its obsidian surface. His presence warped the air, distorting reality itself.

And then-

The city guard arrived.

Thousands of soldiers, clad in polished slate, their sigils of Lochma's authority gleaming under the flickering torchlight. A variety of weapons gripped tightly in their hands, some with crossbows, even manned ballista's built for warfare.

They had been called to respond to the disturbance, pre-warned of the monstrosity that had awakened. To put an end to whatever emerged from the ruins of the Grand Library.

They surrounded him in the plaza, organising themselves into a battle formation, crossbows raised, spears poised to strike.

A captain, draped in the colours of Lochma's army, stepped forward, his voice steady despite the fear and apprehension in his eyes.

"By order of the High Council and the king himself," he announced, his voice heard by all present, "You are to stand down and surrender. If you resist, you will be executed where you stand."

Malik met his gaze, the golden orbs flickering with interest.

He tilted his head.

He then raised his free hand and snapped his fingers, none could react in time.

The cobblestone ground ruptured and cracked, pillars of golden fire that had a mind of their own erupted from beneath the guards, swallowing them whole and adding an influx of souls to his count. Screams filled the night as men were incinerated on the spot, their armour melting onto their flesh as they were consumed by the hellfire that bent to Malik's will.

The captain staggered back and lost his composure, his face reflecting the horror of the massacre.

"You-you're a monster!" He gasped, eyes wide and fear stricken.

Malik lifted his sword skyward, its molten edge pulsating with hunger.

"Yes," he said, his voice like rolling thunder. "I am a monster. One that humanity created." 

With a single step, he vanished from sight-

And reappeared behind the captain.

A wet, sickening slash filled the air as Malik's sword cleaved through the man's body, bisecting him at the waist. Blood sprayed across the cobblestones as the upper half of his corpse crumpled, his lifeless eyes staring in shock at his dethatched legs.

Malik turned towards the remaining soldiers, who stood paralyzed by fear.

"It's only fair that I rise up against my creators, right?" He asked innocently, contradicting the scene of gore that painted the city around him. 

"This is my declaration of war." Malik announced.

Then he raised his sword.

And Lochma burned, its residents and soldiers incinerating into dust.

...

A day had passed since the destruction of Lochma.

Enough time for word to spread to the far corners of the world, and it was safe to say that the other great cities under the King's rule were not pleased.

Upon hearing the news, the King had finally made his first move, ordering the five cities to march upon Lochma with only one purpose. War.

Unlike the other cities, Lochma was a city of scholars, merchants and science. Therefore the military was but a mere fraction of what the five big cities could command, coming to barely 50,000,000 soldiers, which were weaker than the rest.

Estus, Larkson, Rubell, Grealth and Potix. These were the five left standing, each having a military might that exceeded 700,000,000 soldiers- not including the hidden 'specials' that were unknown to the masses. In total the fighters under the King amassed to be almost level with the civilian side of the population, hence the degree of control he exerted, as if the planet belonged to him.

Out of the five, Potix would be the most dangerous and most heavily guarded as this was where the royal palace resided.

Since Malik had obliterated one of the six cities, albeit the weakest, he decided to make it a base of operations for now.

Malik currently sat atop the gates of Lochma's city walls, his eyes staring at the horizon filled with grassy fields and a backdrop of mountain peaks in the distance. 

While he was waiting for what came next, he was deep in thought, his mind processing on overdrive.

'The weakest first wasn't the best strategy and it definitely wouldn't have been my first choice. It was coincidental that things turned out this way and I started the quest in the heat of the moment,' Malik strummed his fingers against the blade, the flames coiling around his hand and flaring with joy, clearly pleased by his touch.

'But from here I know this is the best course of action. To wait. If I were to run around fighting each city, sure they would be weaker than a united front, but I will waste time.' Malik knew he could travel fast and he doubted he would have to worry about exhaustion so long as he had the suit. But he also was trying to be a realist, even in such an insane situation.

'Why bother hunting them, when its guaranteed they will come to me in masses. Then I can harvest a large amount of souls in one go...' The corners of his mouth curved at the thought, a cunning smile hidden behind the helmet.

...

Whilst Malik waited for the war to come, an army of one billion strong marched towards Lochma, less than half a day's travel away.

The sheer number of men and women armed to the teeth with various weapons, would be enough to terrify an enemy. Yet if this wasn't enough, they marched with hundreds of siege weapons; catapults, ballista's and deadly magic infused cannons, accompanied by ancient war beasts believed long extinct- reminiscent of ogres and inexplicably tame considering they were surrounded by what was once their prey.

Divided into five regiments of 200,000,000, each section brandished a flag representing the city in which they belong to. 

At the head of these regiments their generals marched, each of them exuding an aura like no-other. They were ability users.

No words were spoken. The formation of the army didn't falter, a synchronised clanking of metal boots echoing with each step they took.

...

Hours passed and Malik continued to strategize, thinking of possible ways this could play out; who he should target first, will they try to attack from different fronts- and most importantly- what was his limit.

'I am strong. Strong enough that I know taking on an army alone is possible, Lochma's 50,000,000 showed me that. But I have yet to face a real challenge... An army of ants can be crushed with just a stomp, but when I inevitably come up against someone or something that doesn't die with a single strike, I need to be better prepared.' 

Malik had practiced different forms of combat, he had read enough about fighting and tactics to make his mind numb. He even felt the armour teaching different combat styles through their connection. But he wasn't well versed. He knew he was extremely lacking in that area.

'Without this cheat code armour I would be very dead by now. I need to grow my own strength, nurture my own power so that once this is taken from me, I can still stand at the top.' He made a decision. One that would benefit him greatly in the future.

'System.' He suddenly said. The screen appeared instantly, understanding his intent.

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Name: Malik Thana

Age: 19

Race: Human(Devourer)

Level: 0

Stats = (Temporary Boosts for the Duration of the Third Quest)

Vitality - 5(+1000)

Strength - 3(+1000)

Agility - 5(+1000)

Endurance - 4(+1000)

Intelligence - 15(+1000)

Mana - 0(+1000)

Perception - 0(+1000)

Charm - 1(+1000)

Soul - 0(49,890,749/9.83B)

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Rumble. 

Malik's ears perked up, his body feeling the vibration similar to an earthquake.

Rumble.

It happened again. Malik didn't move, instead he focused the divine flames on his eyes and pushed his perception to the max.

And then, he saw it.

In the far distance, emerging from the horizon like a tsunami.

The alliance had arrived.