The rise of a legendary warlock

Outside the formidable walls of Humility Kingdom, an eerie desert sprawled, an unintended consequence of long-forgotten wars. This desolation, once a thriving landscape, bore the indelible scars of conflict. Deep black craters marred the terrain, resembling the aftermath of molten eruptions, and sporadic lightning flashes near the city walls created an electrifying ambiance. Strangely, green rain occasionally fell, casting an otherworldly aura over nearby ponds.

This desolate realm had been the stage for countless battles throughout history, typically teeming with adventurers and bronze-clad guards. But today, an extraordinary transformation was afoot. The usual sentinels, even the silver-clad soldiers, were conspicuously absent. In their place, an array of humans adorned in glistening golden armor stood in formation, each representing a unique class.

The vanguard was composed of warriors, their arsenal ranging from swords to shields, spears, and even mighty hammers, forming an impenetrable barrier before the city walls. These were the protectors of Humility Kingdom, its first line of defense.

The colossal city walls, soaring to heights of approximately 600 feet and encircling a sprawling 700-square-kilometer expanse, provided a commanding view of the surroundings.

Atop the grand castle, a lengthy hallway stretched outward, lined with archers clad in golden leather armor, their bows poised for action as they patiently awaited commands.

A mere ten meters behind the archers stood another group, mages distinguished by their garb's unique hues. Some donned cobalt robes and wielded golden staffs topped with azure orbs, while others wore crimson, forest green, or other shades, each color symbolizing distinct affinities and skills. With unwavering patience, they anticipated the call to arms, fully aware that the time for battle was rapidly approaching.

In the heart of the city's central castle, a closer examination would reveal a figure of immense significance: the Human King. His sharp eyebrows framed eyes that seemed to possess a hint of gold within their brown depths. Adorned in his majestic golden battle regalia, he sported formidable shoulder pads, a flowing black cape, wrist protectors for added defense, golden chest plates, and boots that gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight. His equipment bore intricate yellow designs, each marking his profound connection to the kingdom he ruled. A golden spear rested upon his back, while his crossed arms leaned on the tall, pointed staff bearing the kingdom's flag.

The king's gaze appeared distant, lost in recollection of an event that had transpired mere hours earlier.

...

"Alvon, remember that the future is a realm of uncertainty, and while the present unfolds, seize every moment," imparted a man clad in attire resembling burnished bronze. He picked up a pearl, tossing it toward his left. The pearl triggered the emergence of a bronze-hued portal. After taking several steps toward the portal, the man turned back to glance at the king, who stood not far away.

A faint, knowing smile graced the inscription master's lips as he added an enigmatic layer to Alvon's perplexity.

"Alvon, remember this," he paused before continuing, "never underestimate a seemingly foolish adversary, for it is often the naive who unleash the most unexpected and devastating strategies." With these parting words, the inscription master departed through the portal.

Alvon remained rooted in place, his posture unyielding as the portal sealed itself. Deep within, he felt a profound sense of melancholy. The one who had just departed was his childhood friend, his confidant above all others. The uncertainty surrounding his friend's fate weighed heavily on Alvon's heart.

...

Returning to the present, King Alvon's countenance bore a pronounced furrowed brow.

"Those words... I've incessantly replayed them within my mind, even while seated upon the throne. Yet, their full significance eludes me," he mused inwardly. He knew from experience that when his best friend uttered such cryptic phrases, momentous events were afoot.

With a disheartened shake of his head, Alvon sighed for the fifth time in the past two hours. His gaze remained fixed on the southern horizon. There, not far in the distance, lay a vast, dark green forest, obscuring his view.

With a graceful flourish of his hand, a fleeting azure glow illuminated his palm before gradually dissipating.

"I hope they remain unnoticed, long enough to inflict substantial damage upon our adversaries," he murmured beneath his breath. Closing his eyes, he adopted a posture akin to a man in deep slumber, yet in truth, his senses remained astute, capturing every minutiae of the unfolding events around him. Not even a fly could escape his vigilant awareness.

...

In the depths of Monoliga Forest, malevolent creatures lurked, attacking any intruders with savage ferocity. They fed upon the very essence of their victims, savoring both soul and flesh.

This particular forest boasted a stratified structure, with four distinct layers, each accessible from a unique direction. These divisions served to categorize the levels of danger. Three-quarters of the layers had been explored, with half deemed relatively safe, one quarter a realm of mystery, and a small fraction marked as perilous, posing a high risk of never returning.

Venturing in a southerly direction, one would ultimately reach the forest's heart, marked as the second safest area on the map.

Amid the mist-shrouded landscape, a swathe of ominous black fog surged forth at breakneck speed. This enigmatic shroud was none other than the demon army, hell-bent on reaching Humility Kingdom. Lesser beings attempted to flee, sensing the impending calamity. Those who were less fortunate succumbed to the engulfing embrace of dark-red energy, vanishing from existence.

Beyond the concealing mist, grotesque entities with fleshy wings, goat-like horns, elongated claws capable of rending steel asunder, horse-like tails, and horrifying weapons formed the formidable demon army. Their faces bore expressions of unbridled cruelty and insatiable bloodlust.

****

A few minutes passed and Without warning, the demons began to collapse to the ground, writhing in agony. In less than twenty seconds, they crumbled into dust.

The demons, their numbers seemingly inexhaustible, remained oblivious to the silent massacre. To them, individual losses held little significance, and their elusive adversaries showed no intention of revealing themselves.

Two minutes later, two elusive shadows materialized from the concealment of a dense thicket. Executing a mesmerizing, intricate dance of movements, they silenced a lone demon, snuffing out its life.

SWOOSH!

TWOOSH!

TWIOSH!

Three shots, emanating from three distinct angles, claimed the lives of six demons.

The two shadows, their deadly work completed, vanished into the underbrush, leaving behind naught but whispers of their existence.

Three minutes elapsed before two more shadowy figures, emerging from a different thicket, launched themselves at a swifter pace than their predecessors. As they traversed the landscape, verdant energy cascaded from their forms.

In the span of a mere six seconds, seventeen and sixteen demons, respectively, succumbed, their life essence transmuted into dark-red dust. In a mere five seconds, five arrows streaked fr om five strategic points, each striking down a separate target, two managing a double kill.

Sensing that their time was nearly at an end, the shadows executed four more swift eliminations before vanishing once more into the foliag

Second set

Third set

Fourth... 

Fifth..... 

..... 

Three hours passed, and the tally of casualties continued to mount. Each wave of shadows introduced innovative, faster, and stealthier methods of extermination. By the fourth hour, the ambush team had methodically dispatched over half a million demon

Thirty minutes later, the body count soared to three-quarters of a million. The demons finally registered the diminishing numbers within their ranks. With a hideous cry, one of them bellowed, "Ambush

This declaration proved the breaking point, and the ambush team, aware that their cover had been blown, chose to retreat. In their hurried withdrawal, they managed to eliminate an additional two thousand demons before disappearing into the thicke

.

Atop the castle, where King Alvon had stood unwavering for four and a half hours, his closed eyes snapped open. He extended his index finger toward his ear, enveloping it in a soothing azure glow. A deep, solemn voice resonated within, steeped in respect, delivering a critical report.

"Your Majesty, the ambush team has executed their mission with precision, tallying 752,000 eliminations out of a total of 1.6 million demons. The remaining demonic horde should number around 848,000"

The king maintained his silence, allowing the gravity of the situation to settle. After a few contemplative moments, a resolute expression etched itself upon his handsome countenance.

"Prepare for battle," the king declared in a frigid tone.

"Understood," the voice on the other end replied in king.

With a final, penetrating gaze toward the south, King Alvon promptly vanished from his vantage point. And thus, the demons, a mere two hours away from their intended destination, heralded the commencement of a mid-level conflict.

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A/N: I hope you find this rendition more immersive and engaging. If you have any further requests or adjustments, please feel free to let me know! 📖🌟..t.d.e.e.."t...t.!"s...h…h…t…t…e.

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A/N:a little sick sorry for the lack of release.