It comes from ancient times, when the concept of time did not exist. It evolves and ascends in the waves of chaos, so that it realizes the meaning of its existence—torture, eternal torture.

Torture those who exist in another world.

The thought arose, and it began to peek into the world that belonged to the living, who were not yet aware of their existence, but who had learned that there was something in the darkness that should not be touched.

"Stay away from the darkness." Here's what they say. And it only thinks it's ridiculous, how to stay away?

Darkness is everywhere, and therefore it is everywhere.

It has tried countless times to enter the world of the living, competing for glory for the four gods, killing in exchange for favor. Who knows, their world will later burst into flames.

It and its myriad of kinds, including even the four gods, were outraged by this.

Why? For the flame was supposed to be theirs, and the flame was not in that form, until a cursed abomination stole it.

The Fire Stealer, that's what they call him. With hatred and fear, hoping that one day he would die completely.

And then there's the present.

They—the living—were promised, invited, invited by the four gods. Naturally, it was one of them, and it heard them with unmistakable accuracy.

"Do you want to play with the fate of the weak?"

"Do you want to take glory in battle with slaughter and blood?"

"Do you want to enjoy the delicate flesh and soft internal organs?"

"Do you want to sow seeds, want to create, and want to achieve immortality in the cycle of life and death?"

It agreed, how could it refuse such glory? It trembled with ecstasy, and rushed with excitement along with countless of its people to the tiny crack that had been born with the plan of the Lord of All Changes.

They rushed in and began to drink blood and kill freely. For the first time, it felt 'alive', and it was so beautiful, even so beautiful that it was a little sick.

Then came jealousy.

Why should those weak dependents enjoy such a precious thing behind the firestealer?

It was furious, wreaking havoc - it thought this was the beginning, it thought it could evolve and ascend again in the killing, it even thought about how it could gain the common favor of the four gods.

Until it saw a ray of flame.

Then it began to run, without hesitation.

What elevation, what glory, what enjoyment - all this is thrown by it, and you must flee or die.

It was running so fast that for a moment, it could barely feel the heat of the horror. It thought it had escaped, but it wasn't.

Because those hybrids dressed in terracotta steel and those weak mortals have returned, and they are dead, some have lost their souls, some have only souls, but they have all returned.

It had no choice but to start running again, and the world inside the network was being burned by flames and reduced to ashes behind it. Its people should have taken advantage of this time to continue rushing into the wreckage, but they were afraid.

The living are not blind, and they can see what is happening here

So the four gods began to roar.

"Go." They said.

A syllable, uncomposed, a simple command, extremely cold. So they had to come back again. It felt a moment of joy for that - yes, yes, more of it.

So that I can live a little longer, I can run away a little longer, and if I can return to the surging tide of chaos, I will be able to escape the fate of death.

It was always running, and it acquired a slender and comical body, with two curved and powerful legs, covered in stiff, black hairs. It has claws, sharp teeth, and it runs like a weird hunchback, and it runs fast.

But it's not fast enough, it's not fast enough for retribution.

There was a sound of footsteps reaching its organs that caught the sound, and its body immediately stopped working and fell stiffly to the ground. Its twelve eyes widened in unison, staring at the mist, ancient webway.

The Spirit Clan, who was close to Prince Joy, built this place, and the spirit bones were still laid on the ground, but there was a sound of unhurried footsteps.

The misty blue light cast a shadow on the wall, small at first, but then began to grow louder and louder as footsteps approached.

It began to scream, uncontrollably screaming, and raging flames poured from one end of the net, enveloping it in an instant, but not immediately turning it to ashes.

"There is nowhere to run." A voice spoke quietly, like thunder, like the pronouncement of death.

It heard countless screams coming from behind it, all of its kind that were slower than it. They ran after it, and they ran here

The sight of despair drove many demons mad on the spot, and they began to slaughter other kindreds, offering sacrifices to beg for their own survival.

Or maybe he knelt on the ground and prostrated himself, plucked off his horns, cut off his claws, and took out his heart to sacrifice to the approaching deity, but it didn't help.

It knew he wouldn't accept it, that he was an eccentric god.

The god looked down at it, and then pronounced its real name, a vague string of words that no one understood, sounding like a whimper.

It wept bitterly, the body it had acquired had no such function, so all it was bleeding was pitch black blood at the moment. Twelve eyes burst one by one.

The juice oozed out, crisscrossing the brown-black fur, and in an instant it turned into a cold blade that sliced into its own body. A force lifted it up and followed the god closely.

It struggled in pain, but was forced to open all its eyes wide, and even if it was blind, it had to look directly at the gods as it calmly walked among the demons and began to condemn them.

"Indiscriminate killing of innocents." He spat out a word, and the chill spilled out from between his pale ribs, freezing the ground of the nets with his steps.

Two flames burned in the hollow eyes of that skeletal face, and all the demons he gazed at were dead at this moment.

Blades formed by the cold protruded from the ground and pierced deep into their bodies. Pierce flesh, pierce bones, reach the skull or vital point, and explode. Flesh and blood splattered, and the black flames that surrounded the demons sent the satisfied laughter of the dead.

The demons wailed and prayed for mercy, and one of them was shameless, telling how innocent he was, and that his hands had not been stained with blood this time, but had been forced.

"Innocent?" The god asked with a thunderous roar. "You're just a step slow, you're not innocent. This is a lie, and the sin is added to the first degree. ”

Black smoke billowed from the void, ripping open the demon's monstrous maw and pouring into its body. It began to writhe and struggle violently as if it had an epilepsy. The strong body began to swell at this moment, and then shattered abruptly.

Pieces of flesh and blood flew in the air, scorching in the black flames before they could spill on the ground or hit the walls. The demons were silent and did nothing superfluous, but some of them still had lucky intentions and began to run towards the place where they had come.

They still think they can find a possible exit from the hell that has been built specifically for them.

"Words are useless." The gods calmly watched as they fled and pronounced their sentence. "It is useless to plead, to plead, to swear allegiance to me. This is the judgment of vengeance, and thou shalt be full of iniquity, and thou shalt die only by death. ”

As soon as his words fell, a heavenly fire descended from behind the net, and a furious sun rose in the flames. The runaway turned to ashes, and a golden boot carved with a two-headed eagle stepped on the ashes of the demons, walking indifferently.

There was nothing in his hand, and the right hand that should have been holding the sword was empty, but that didn't stop the demons from wailing about it.

He just walked by, and let them turn into dry bones, and the life that had been promised turned to powder, screaming and screaming, and finally turning into nothingness when he reached a certain point.

If that's all right, at least the soul can still escape—if the god isn't there.

But here he is.

Then the black flames swept by, the souls in the ashes were extracted, and countless souls stretched out their blood-drenched hands from the void, and there was only one emotion left in the empty eye sockets.

At this moment, there is only one demon left alive, floating above the heads of the fire stealers and gods, its body swollen, and the ice and fury skillfully inflict extremely painful torture on it, so that it cannot die, but can only endure it.

The body and organs it was given to were all necrotic, and the bones were frozen in blood along with the internal organs.

It longed to die immediately, there was no need to run away or struggle anymore, die, just die. It's so desperate, it's better to be a hundred.

But it knew in its heart that it couldn't die so easily.

It was deliberately left for now—it was lucky enough to live to the present, so it will suffer even greater misfortunes.

"You can go back." The gods said to it. "Go back to where you came, back to the tide of chaos."

The demon shuddered and opened its fanged mouth.

"Don't they want war? Tell them that war is coming soon. ”

As the words fell, it screamed and was stripped of its body, and the black flames scorched through it, forging a new body for it—and it was not a gift, for it tormented it all the time.

Countless frenzied sights crossed its eyes at this moment, the stars went out, the black flames lit up, and countless creatures shouted the name of revenge in unison, and the hatred in its heart was like a song, and it was thrown back into the waves of chaos.

One of the four gods was so angry that he had just been stabbed in the eye, and he had nowhere to vent his anger. With a swing of his sword, the little demon was instantly wiped out, and the other three didn't even have time to stop it.

And so, in the black flame that should have been extinguished, but gradually ignited, the vengeful dead flocked to his wasteland.

Updated.

(End of chapter)