Chapter 40: Chapter 40

The three of us, fully armed and prepared for battle, stand facing the formidable demon before us. Our weapons are held tightly in our grasp, ready for action at a moment's notice. The demon, too, is ready for battle, his deadly claws extended and at the ready. I speak, "Allow me to ask you something, as you have previously mentioned. Your lord, as you have referred to him, is God or something similar, is that correct?" I address the demon in front of me, eager to gain a greater understanding of our adversary.

I can see the clear disdain etched upon his countenance, his eyes fixed upon mine with a look of insult. He speaks with a voice filled with anger, "He is God, you fool." As he utters these words, the very ground beneath our feet begins to tremble and shake, as if in response to the intense anger that he feels. The shadows around us seem to warp and contort in bizarre and unsettling ways, as if they too are being affected by his rage.

Despite the intimidating display of power, I remain unfazed and unimpressed, my expression one of mock amusement. With the most biting and mocking tone that I can muster, I retort, "Yes, yes, your God. Tell me, does he have some sort of strange fetish with children or something?" I say this with a hint of sarcasm, my words meant to provoke and goad him further.

With a fierce determination in his eyes, the demon rushes towards me, bellowing out a threat to take my life. The anger etched upon his face is more apparent than ever before, as he snarls, "I'll kill you." His claws are raised high above his head, ready to strike down upon me with deadly force.

However, before the attacker can land his blow, he is intercepted by Richard, who expertly blocks his attack. Taking advantage of this momentary distraction, Carl and I both launch our own counterattacks. Carl expertly wields his spear, striking out with precision and power, while I brandish my sword, ready to strike at any opportunity. 

The demon, realizing the gravity of the situation and the dire predicament he has foolishly placed himself in, frantically attempts to retreat a few steps back. But before he can make his escape, Carl and I, both armed with our trusted weapons - Carl with a spear and I with a sword - lunge forward and launch a swift and powerful assault on the creature. Our coordinated strikes landing true, and deep gashes open up on the demon's body, spilling its dark blood onto the ground. The speed of our attack is lightning-fast, surpassing even the speed of sound, creating deafening shockwaves that ripple out in all directions, leaving the demon reeling in pain and disorientated.

I stand before the demon, my sword held confidently in my hand. I take a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking, and then I slowly and deliberately implant the tip of my blade into the ground, creating a resonating thud. With a stern and resolute voice, I address the demon, "So if this supposed 'God' is so all-powerful, why does he feel the need to resort to such a heinous act as kidnapping innocent children?" I pause, my eyes never leaving the demon's face, as I wait for my words to take effect.

The demon remains silent, seemingly taken aback by my bold words. I continue, my voice rising in both volume and passion, "Your comrade has already mentioned that those children are to be used as nothing more than mere slaves for your own twisted gains." I then dramatically pull the tip of my sword from the ground and brandish it in the direction of the demon, the metal glinting menacingly in the dim light. With a sneer on my lips and a mocking tone in my voice, I say, "Can't this so-called 'God' rely on his supposed absolute power alone? Must he stoop to such despicable acts?" I ask, my words ringing with disdain. 

The former human, now transformed into a demonic entity, stands before me with a fierce look of determination in his eyes. As he speaks, I observe that the injury that we had inflicted upon him is slowly but surely healing, yet there is something peculiar about this process. Rather than the wound closing up quickly as it had in the past, it appears to be healing at a much slower rate, as if the immense power that once flowed within him is gradually fading away.

"I do not question the motives or decisions of my master," he states with a strong and confident tone. "I simply carry out my duties as any dedicated and loyal follower would." The unwavering devotion he holds towards his leader is evident in the conviction with which he spoke. I can't help but ponder over the extent of the hold that his master has over him, inspiring such unwavering loyalty and devotion.

Carl stands tall, his eyes fixed intently on the demon. The expression on his face is one of disdain and disappointment, his lips curled into a sneer as he begins to speak. "I must admit, I had higher hopes for you. I thought that perhaps, just perhaps, you would possess a modicum of intelligence, a glimmer of insight into the world around you. But it seems that I was misguided in my expectations." He pauses, his voice filled with disgust as he continues. "Your actions are nothing short of reprehensible, your mind nothing but a bottomless pit of shallowness. The mere thought of your perspective makes me physically ill."

Richard nods in agreement, his own contempt for the person just as palpable as Carl's. "Throughout my life, I have encountered numerous fools and I must say, you are without a doubt the worst of the lot. Your lack of intelligence and reasoning abilities are truly a disgrace. Congratulations, you have set a new low standard," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he mockingly claps.

I can't help but burst out laughing at their ridicule of the demon standing before us. They seem to have lost fear of the demon and are channeling their anger and annoyance towards it, treating it with disdain and contempt as if it's no longer a formidable adversary.

The demon steps forward with purpose, its eyes blazing with fury as it surveys its surroundings. Its wounds, which had once marred its formidable form, have now been completely healed, leaving no trace of the battles it has fought. Its voice, like a rolling thunder, echoes through the air as it speaks, "You dare to mock me, do you? You mortals, with your petty insults, think you can defeat me?" The demon, once a blur of motion with unparalleled speed, now moves with a different kind of grace. It now moves with the quickness and agility that it had prior to its transformation.

As the demonic figure bellows with rage, his formidable claws descends with the intent to strike. But I am quick to act, intercepting his attack by bringing my sword up to meet his blow. Our weapons clash with a metallic clang, as I expertly neutralize the demon's aggressive attack. I seize the opportunity to take the offensive, launching a fluid and relentless series of strikes with my sword. My quick reflexes and precise movements catches the demon off guard, and I rain blow after blow upon his sluggish defenses from all angles.

Despite my initial success, the demon is not easily deterred. Roaring in anger, he gathers himself and launches a furious counterattack, raining blows upon me with an increased speed and ferocity. But I am ready. I keep my guard up, anticipating his every move, and expertly deflect his attacks with ease. My mastery of the sword, honed by years of training, allows me to stand my ground against the demonic entity.

You are reading story To Start Again at novel35.com

He stumbles backwards, grappling with the reality of what is happening to him. His once magnificent and powerful appearance is rapidly dissipating, leaving him with a fraction of his former strength. The once imposing figure of the demon is now a shadow of its former self, with its demonic essence evaporating into thin air.

"This is impossible," he bellows, "My magnificent physique is disintegrating before my very eyes. What is the reason for this treachery?" The demon looks around, searching for an explanation for the sudden shift in his appearance. He appears to be losing control over his own form, as his once mighty and imposing presence crumbles away.

The demon's form begins to change, with his once monstrous figure slowly transforming into something much more human. In its place stands a mere mortal, his original human form once again asserting itself. The demon looks down at himself in disbelief, unable to comprehend the transformation that has taken place.

As the last traces of his demonic essence fade away, the once powerful and imposing figure of the demon is now nothing more than a distant memory. In its place stands a mere mortal, a shell of what he once was. The man can only stand there in shock, unable to fully grasp the extent of what has just happened to him.

Before us stands a man who, at first glance, may not seem to be anything particularly remarkable. He has dark hair, dark eyes, and a relatively ordinary appearance. However, upon closer inspection, it becomes evident that there is something quite unique about this individual. The most striking feature is a massive scar that starts at the left cheek and extends down his face, the full length of which is hidden by his robes.

The scar is clearly very severe, and one can only imagine that it reaches far beyond what can be seen. It is a noticeable disfigurement that sets him apart from others and draws attention to the man's face. The scar seems to tell a story of some sort of trauma, struggle, or hardship that the man has endured.

I carefully return my sword to its scabbard as I approach the man with measured steps. "Well well," I say, my voice carrying an edge of sarcasm, "It seems that you've finally realized the gravity of your situation. How disappointingly predictable of you. It appears that your so-called 'God' has deserted you in your hour of need, leaving you to fend for yourself in this treacherous world. But then again, what can one expect from a blind and foolish individual such as yourself? The very fact that you've found yourself in this predicament is evidence enough of that." I pause for a moment, shaking my head in disdain. "Ah, but just when things were starting to get interesting," I continue, my tone dripping with irony.

"I suppose I'll have to cut this little reunion short and end your misery once and for all." I unsheathe my sword, the light of the morning sun glinting off its polished surface. The man trembles in fear, his eyes darting back and forth as he searches for a way to escape. But it's too late for him. I've got him backed against the wall, with no way out. I raise my sword, ready to deliver the final blow. "Say your prayers," I say, my voice low and menacing. The man closes his eyes and begins to whisper something under his breath. "You should have thought of that before you crossed me," I say, bringing my sword down in a swift, deadly arc.

As my sword made contact with his neck, the sharp blade sliced through his flesh with ease, as if it were cutting through soft butter. The force of the strike caused his head to detach from his body, sending it rolling to my side. A stream of blood gushed forth from the freshly severed neck, painting the ground red. The head landed with a thud, its eyes still open as if in a state of contemplation. But just as quickly, the light in those eyes faded, signaling the end of his life. I stood there for a moment, watching as the blood continued to flow, reflecting on the finality of what had just occurred. The once living, breathing being was now nothing more than a lifeless corpse, a testament to the brutal realities of combat.

Carl approaches me with a face filled with the weight of exhaustion and defeat. The lines etched deep into his brow and the frown etched on his lips speak volumes about the state of his mind. His words, spoken in a low and desolate tone, "It's finally over."

He stands beside me, deep in contemplation, his eyes lost in thought as he tries to make sense of the man's final words before he took his last breath. The atmosphere is thick with melancholy and the weight of the situation seem to press down on us all. Not just Carl, but Richard is also in a similar state of mind, his face mirroring the defeat and exhaustion that Carl is feeling. He too is struggling to come to terms with the events that had just transpired.

Despite the somber atmosphere, I can't help but smile, my lips turning upwards in an attempt to lighten the mood. I speak softly, my words a gentle reminder of our hard-won victory, "There's no need to be so downcast. We have won, after all." My words may have been intended to provide comfort, but they also served to deflect from the weight of the man's final words and the uncertainty of what the future might hold. Despite our triumph, a sense of unease lingers in the air as we are all left to ponder what lay ahead in the coming days and what challenges the future would bring.

 

 

You can find story with these keywords: To Start Again, Read To Start Again, To Start Again novel, To Start Again book, To Start Again story, To Start Again full, To Start Again Latest Chapter