Cursed Devourer

The night sky burned with fire, illuminating the dark planes below.

An endless army visible under the torchlight, their banners fluttering against the howling winds.

They had come to a stop and stood several hundred meters before him, their armour gleaming beneath the yellow flames that continued to roar in the sky. From five cities they came, untied as one with a single purpose- to erase him.

At their forefront stood five generals, each adorned in their own artifacts and colours, emanating auras that would make others tremble.

But not Malik.

Malik felt excitement. He had hoped he would encounter some of these ability users that were written of in the library. He longed for a challenge. However not even he understood the origin of this feeling. Aside from this, he felt nothing.

Not fear. Not rage. He was no longer consumed by such debilitating emotions. The armour caressed his soul and made him numb to what started this war.

Silence lingered across the soon to be battlefield and neither side made a move.

Malik stared at the army, sword gripped tightly by his side.

Suddenly one of the generals stepped forward.

"You must be Malik?" He asked, his voice hoarse.

No answer.

The general felt agitated by the lack of response, but continued nonetheless. "You know why we are here. You can see a portion of what you're up against," he spread his arms wide, emphasising the presence of the enormous army behind him, "Surrender yourself and we will make your death painless."

Again. No answer.

"Tch," the general tutted, "So be it."

He brandished a large ancient battle axe that thrummed with aura, "My name is General Rhodan, Champion of the Black Spire, and the one who will carve your name into the annals of history as a warning to all who defy us."

Malik exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around the hilt of his blade. The wind howled between them, carrying the scent of burning wood and something more metalic- blood, old and new.

Rhodan rolled his shoulders, the plates of his armour groaning under the weight of his presence. His axe pulsed with energy, black veins of power coursing through its metal, distorting the air around it.

"You stand alone, Malik," Rhodan continued, stepping forward with slow, deliberate strides. "Even you must see the folly in this."

Malik tilted his head slighlty, watching the general as one might study a passing storm. The truth was, he wasn't alone.

He had never been alone.

The armour, dark as the void between stars, pulsed against his skin, whispering in the language of fire. It did not speak in words but in certainty.

Malik rolled his shoulders, mirroring Rhodan's movements. "Come, then," he finally said, his voice carrying over the landscape like a blade drawn from its sheath.

"Enough talk."

The effect was immediate. Rhodan's face twisted in rage.

"Arrogant wretch!" Rhodan spat, raising his axe high. "Very well, I will grant you the honor of dying by my hand!"

He charged towards Malik, axe already swinging, small craters forming beneath the stomps of his boots.

The battlefield that had been silent for so long, roared to life.

Malik did not wait. He moved, his body a blur in the eyes of the soldiers, blade flashing. The earth cracked beneath their clash, shockwaves rippling through the field as the two weapons met. Sparks danced in the air as Rhodan's axe carved downward, cleaving the path 100 metres ahead and leaving a deep cut in the earth. Malik had already twisted to the side, countering with a lightening-fast slash to Rhodan's ribcage.

Rhodan barely blocked in time, his gauntlet screeching as Malik's blade scraped across its surface. He grunted, staggering back, his eyes widening slightly.

Malik saw it then.

Doubt.

'He is weaker than expected.' Malik could feel this man had above average strength, but he wasn't certain how strong he truly was.

On the other hand, Rhodan's mind was in turmoil. 'I thought this would be a desperate fight. He was said to be strong but only in the face of weaklings!'

Instead he faced something else entirely.

Malik exhaled again, stepping forward with another attack. This time faster. Stronger.

Rhodan barely kept up, his massive frame moving with trained efficiency, but Malik was relentless. His blade was an extension of his body as it snaked through the air from varying angles, each looking to take his life.

The fight was clearly in Malik's favour, the winner already decided. Yet the other five generals stood back, watching with keen eyes.

Then suddenly-

'An opening!' Rhodan cheered, choosing to take the oppurtunity to land a fatal blow.

Raising his axe once again, Rhodan leapt towards Malik, aiming to cleave him from the shoulder down.

'Too slow.' Malik scoffed. He sidestepped the trajectory of the axe with eerie precision, twisting his body as his blade carved through the gap between Rhodan's helmet and shoulder plate. The steel sword sliced deep, severing his flesh and bone in a single, calculated motion.

Rhodan gasped, eyes wide as black blood spewed from the gaping wound in his throat. His knees buckled, but before he could collapse, Malik had appeared in front of him and gripped him by the skull, pressing his fingers into the man's temple. With a single, effortless motion, he ripped the head free from its spine.

Blood fountained from the ruined neck, painting Malik's armour as he turned, unfazed.

Silence gripped the battlefield for half a second.

Then the army roared.

They surged forward like a tidal wave, the ground trembling beneath their charge. Malik looked like a spec of black and yellow dust in a sea of silver.

Malik grinned, excited for the battle.

Then he moved.

His blade whirled in an arc, cleaving the first soldier from shoulder to hip, an arc of fire shooting from his blade and penetrating through those behind like a wave, piles of burning flesh left in its wake. The man barely had time to scream before his torso split, intestines spilling onto the dirt as Malik spun into the next attacker.

A spear thrust for his throat. He caught it mid-air, twisting it sharply-

Crack

-The soldier's wrist snapped like brittle wood. Malik yanked him forward, kneeing him in the face hard enough that his head exploded into a spray of brain matter and blood. Bone fragments flew forward and shot through the bodies of the soldiers following up with attacks.

A war beast lunged from his left- a massive creature with iron-plated tusks, its body coated in metal spikes that had been drilled into its flesh. Malik ducked low to dodge the clawed swing. Tensing his legs he manipulated all the force he could muster, slashing upwards whilst controlling all of his strength.

"ARRGGH!" He roared, his muscles flexing beneath the armour. The sword split the beast completely in two, both halves flopping to the ground with a loud thud and splash of guts. The pure pressure from the cleave parted the enormous army and continued to seperate the clouds above.

Arrows darkened the sky, blocking out the glow from the flames that hung in the air.

Malik raised his free hand- radiant energy pulsed from his core, forming a barrier of divine flames. The arrows struck the shield and were instantly turned to dust.

Then he was among them again.

The batlle raged on and Malik spared a glance towards the four remaining generals, choosing not to ingage and instead command their troops to hold formation.

'Cut the head off the snake and the body will falter,' Malik grinned sadisticly, his grip tightening on the sword, 'You can hang back all you want but you can't escape the inevitable.'

The thought fell and Malik acted.

Putting strength into his calves he leapt forward, clearing crowds of soldiers that were rushing him with their weapons pointed.

Curling his fingers into a fist Malik roared, "Collapse!"

And then it happened.

Malik had felt the armour guiding him, teaching him new ways to utilise his power, how to bend the divine flames to his will.

And this was one of the most powerful he had seen so far.

At his command the generals felt a sickening jolt of fear shoot through their bodies, but it was too late.

Thousands of flaming spears materialised in the air around them, tips pointed in their direction. It only took a second for them to appear, and half a second more till they were upon them, sonic booms created from the sheer force they flew at.

The army blinked. The generals were dead.

Barely anything remained, save for five piles of ash that began to scatter into the wind.

Malik had landed where the generals had once been.

Briefly- everything stopped. The standalone sound prevailing the battlefield being Malik's thumping heartbeat. Adrenaline pulsed through his every fibre and his smile grew wider beneath his helmet.

This feeling. This excitement.

'I love it! I wan't more! More!'

Malik's eyes darted across the remaining soldiers, still over half of them left.

"Weak." His voice echoed through the silence, sending shivers throughout.

'Numbers mean nothing to me. I need something bigger. Something stronger.' Malik's mind raced, ploughing through the memories and tactics the armour fed him.

However the soldiers would not let him rest. Even with their leaders dead, half their force diminished, and minimal hope in winning this battle, they refused to back down.

No one knew who took the first step, but they all followed, charging towards Malik who stood in the opening left by his bombardment.

He closed his eyes.

The armour thrummed, pouring more knowledge and utilisations of the power he had access to. Until finally there was one technique that left him amazed.

'Unbelievable, this is possible?'

His eyes shot open, the golden orbs flickered violently.

The time it took him to process everything hadn't even reached a second, yet the army was upon him. But it didn't matter. Malik knew what to do.

Raising his sword skywards, it began to coil with flames as if being engulfed, the metal glowing with a radiance never seen before. He brought his other hand to the hilt and gripped it tightly, flipping the sword so that it was pointing downwards, the air around him cracking and splintering.

["Armageddon."]

On cue Malik plunged the sword into the earth and time stopped. Everything around him was frozen in place, only Malik knew what was about to occur.

Rumble

The ground shook, cracks cobwebbing in all directions until the entire battlefield was covered completely.

BOOM!

An explosion of fire followed, time unfroze and from every crack, crevice and splinter, flames billowed upwards, rolling thorugh the army like a tsunami of destruction.

And that's exactly what it was.

Wherever the flames touched, everything was incinerated, wiped from existence.

There were no screams. No desperate pleas. Nothing.

The army composed of 1,000,000,000 vanished in a wave of ashes, their souls swallowed by the raging inferno.

Malik watched silently.

"That was better than expected," A soft chuckle left his lips, "But there still seems to be a little rat lurking." The amusement turned to a scowl and his eyes locked onto a small figure thousands of meters high.

Enhancing his eyesight he saw a magestic eagle-like creature soaring through the skies, its eyes glowing with red miasma. It was watching him.

"Don't worry, your highness. I'll be seeing you soon." Malik growled, snapping his finger towards the creature, a beam of energy blasting from his fingertips and shooting straight through its skull.

[1,120,000,814/9.83B]

The souls count had increased and Malik felt his body growning stronger, something that reflected in both his stats and the fact he could perform moves such as 'Armageddon'.

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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(+1200)

Strength - 3(+1200)

Agility - 5(+1200)

Endurance - 4(+1200)

Intelligence - 15(+1200)

Mana - 0(+1200)

Perception - 0(+1200)

Charm - 1(+1200)

Soul - 0(1,120,000,814/9.83B)

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He was getting closer, but there was still a way to go.