Lorn marched at the head of the soldiers as they slowly trudged through the trees. An army of a thousand men and women were marching to their death. Lorn knew that however this battle ended, these soldiers didn’t stand a chance. If they were not killed directly, they would surely succumb to the clash that was sure to come between himself and Inza. Or maybe they could suffer a fate worse that death.

The soldiers were not naive enough to think that this was anything but life-threatening. They marched knowing that whatever they were about to face, and they were not briefed as to who or what it was by Lorn due to him not seeing a point in wasting his time on glorified meat shields, was going to be fearsome indeed to strike such anger into the renowned hero. 

The rattling of armour filled the air. Thousands of metal joints ground against one another as the soldiers struggled to find their way around the roots and growth that made up the floor of this forest. After an hour of rough-terrained travel, a structure was visible in the distance. The tension grew to a peak among the troops. Lorn himself even had sweat on his brow. 

Slowly, a thousand armoured units formed ranks in front of the stairs that led up to the entrance of the strange dilapidated structure with Lorn just at the foot of them. An old crone with a walking stick stood at the top. The soldiers were perplexed at the sight, but did not dare lower their guard. They could see the sweat falling down Lorn’s face and the fierce expression on his face, the ones that were close enough at least. The rest just followed the others nearby. 

Lorn simply stood staring into the eyes of the old crone that was waiting patiently for the group to form ranks. Eventually, she saw fit to break the silence that hung in the air now that there was no more rattling of armour and weapons. “Welcome to my humble home. Let it be known that all are welcome here as things stand. That being said, you put yourselves in a precarious situation. Any who should wish to leave their hostilities behind would be wise.” Her gaze drew from left to right, seemingly meeting the eye of each and every person in attendance. 

Some of the soldiers flinched backwards and a rustling could be heard from the crowd. A quick glance full of hatred shot back over them from Lorn, and any thoughts of retreating were blown from their minds. These people were almost as scared of the hero as they were of this unknown foe. The devil that you knew was still somehow preferable, especially since he was likely to strike down any that offended him. Now that they had come this far, they had no choice but to see this to the bitter end. 

The old crone looked down to her feet and sighed. “I am sad to see so many prospective youths in the face of life and death. So much potential that has yet to be, and will no longer come to fruition. The faces of those that you love, the faces of those you hate. None of them matter here. The only thing that awaits is a bitter end. There will be no glory. There will only be shallow graves that shall feed this forest.” 

Her words tore through the ranks of soldiers. One could almost hear the shivering of those who were too scared to flee, but also too scared of the enemy in front. Death from both sides. At this point, the soldiers with despair on all sides could only cling to the hope that Lorn could pull through. The power they knew he had was the only thing preventing the troops from fleeing. Though, at the same time, it was also the power that disallowed them from fleeing.

Lorn had started to glow red. Anger, power, and triumph. This aura meant all of these things. All in attendance had heard the stories, and many of them had even seen it in action at some point or another years ago when he was in action against the dark armies. That red aura was almost as frightening as the hordes that assailed the kingdom of man. Any that got too close to the hero were known to be blasted away just the same as the enemy. 

Lorn was truly the hero that saved them all, but nobody was under the illusion that he was a good man. Ever since he made his appearance during the demon war, he was known to be ruthless. He would sacrifice, use, and abuse any and all that he could. If you saw the red aura come from him, you would know that there would be death. 

His temper was volatile and his power was a double-edged sword. It came to the point that he commanded the military in place of any king or general. The whole kingdom knew what would happen to those that would go against his orders. His journeys left just as much devastation as it did relief in his wake. He would leave a mountain of corpses and annihilate each horde of demons as well as any people unlucky enough to get caught in the crossfire.

Today though, something was different. The red was tinged with blackness. This was unlike any power that Lorn had displayed before. There was precious little room for thought though, as just a second after it had started to register to all that could see it Lorn took to the sky. 

Green, leathery wings sprouted from his back and tore through his clothes after he jumped up. Even the old crone’s eyes widened and were glued to the unexpected turn. What she saw should not have been possible. That dark aura was all too familiar to her, and it filled even one as powerful as herself with a tinge of fear and trepidation. 

Lorn’s aura shot outwards in great black and red licks of flame. “ATTACK! NOW!” Lorn’s voice boomed over the clatter of armour as the troops looked upwards at Lorn. A moment of hesitation shook the battlefield in silence until the old crone made her first move. 

Vines the size of great pillars shot from the ground in front of her . Several of them swung right away into the front row of unsuspecting knights. Without time to react, the first few poor souls lost their life that day. Now aware of the great threat that loomed over them, the men and women gave up any further hope of avoiding conflict and screamed their commitment to the path ahead of them. The only path left: victory or death.

The front lines recovered from the first blow and made to counterattack the vines that had plowed through their comrades. The brave men and women here were not weak by any means. They were sent because they were strong. This was the royal guard. Some had stayed behind to defend the capital, but these troops were the best the kingdom had to offer. Though the first attack caught them by surprise, now that they knew what was coming they were faring well enough. 

Greatsword wielders hacked at the bases of the vines and shieldbearers intercepted blows meant for the attackers. Archers shot from a distance at the old crone on the steps, but the arrows proved meaningless against a barrier that was in front of her. Mages shot spells of fire, ice, and wind to try to disrupt the flow of battle.

The old crone stood seemingly motionless, merely leaning against her staff. Lorn above was preparing something though, and he meant to unleash it. A glob of red and black power formed just under Lorn. Just as quick as it took to notice its formation, it was shot at top speed at the old crone below. 

She had shaken off the surprise that took her before, but she was not completely prepared for this blow. Her barrier shattered under the assault, and her body was enveloped in the projectile. Archers tried to assist by shooting another volley, but it proved ineffective. The arrows were turned to little more than ash the moment they came even close to the attack that oppressed the old crone. 

After a moment, she screamed. She may have been in pain, or simply screaming a battle cry, but either way it made the earth tremble. The vines suddenly stopped their movements against the soldiers, who quickly took the opportunity to sever them at the base. The old crone hunched further over for a moment, and then an ear splitting shriek broke the red and black blob away from her. 

Lorn looked down on the scene. He had hoped this would be enough to stop her. That was the trump card that he was able to come up with. He thought that since he had drawn out all of this power, it might be enough. He was breathing heavily and blood flowed from his eyes that were turned to reptilian slits. He did not have much left to fight back with, but he had gone too far to stop now. He screamed an equally fierce battle cry and dive bombed his way toward the old crone. 

The troops in attendance did not dare join this attack. They knew that their life would be lost if they got close to this encounter. All they could do was hide behind their shields, yet, they could not tear their eyes away from this scene. 

Lorn descended at speeds that could only be perceived as a blur by a common human. He drew the sword at his side and held it out, hoping to spear the old crone before she could recover from the previous attack. 

Just as the sword was about to connect with the old crone’s head, which was not looking up at him, she suddenly shifted in the air seemingly without moving. His attack had missed and he was on a direct course to stab the ground uselessly. 

He did not get the chance to do even that, as a hand grabbed him by the throat and jarringly halted his plunge. He was instantly held in place by his neck. The old crone, with baffling strength and speed, had grabbed him by the neck and held him out in front of herself like a ragdoll. 

She breathed a deep sigh and grinned. “I was worried for a moment. I did not expect you to be able to tap into the powers of darkness. That being said, you are quite the novice in the art. You may have had a chance if you weren’t such a pathetic fool.” 

Lorn’s face filled with rage and he swung the sword in his hand in a clumsy arc toward the old crone. This was unceremoniously halted by a vine grabbing his wrist. The hero Lorn was completely helpless in the face of a seemingly feeble old woman. 

Lorn knew that he had no hope to win at this point. His attack had failed and the awestruck soldiers were of no use… at least as they were now. Lorn grinned wildly and shot a barrage of blackness behind him into the soldiers that stood stock still. 

The old crone laughed to herself dryly. “You think to spite me by killing your own allies? I could think of far better things that you could do. Begging for my forgiveness, perhaps?” 

Lorn had his own wicked chuckle. “I know that I am no match for you, witch. I am under no illusion now as to the difference between us. That said, I have no intention of letting you win the day.” 

The old crone realized that something was amiss a little too late. All of the soldiers that were once normal humans now had a black glow in their eyes. The corpses that fell to the vines rose, no matter how broken they were. 

The old crone’s eye lit up in fury. “You dare bring the denizens of darkness to my realm!? You will find yourself wallowing in regret before I am finished with you.” 

Lorn broke into a wicked cackle. “You will not have the chance! A thousand greater demons are at your door! These were once the pride of the royal guard. Now, these strong vessels are filled with the desire of demons that have long gone hungry!!” 

As if to emphasize that this was truly a dire threat, several beams of black shot out from the crowd. Most were deflected by a hastily erected barrier, but some broke through. They were still only glancing blows, but there were so many that the crone was pushed back else she may actually be seriously hurt.

A thousand demons marched forward in unison, threatening to throw themselves at the old crone if need be. She squeezed the throat of Lorn tighter. “I still have you in my grasp and you think you have a chance? I will show you the extent of your folly a hundred fold!”

More vines emerged from the ground, many more than before. Dozens were blown away on either side. Vines blasted in waves of blackness. Armour crumpled under the weight of impact. A dark figure emerged from the center of the group. The armour that was once shiny and bore the emblem of the kingdom now was black as night and had the symbol of a crow. 

This figure jumped through the air at blinding speeds toward the crone that held Lorn by the neck. The crone’s eyes shot wide once again and she was forced to release her grip around Lorn’s neck and take a defensive posture. The figure swung a shadowy blade at her. It was stopped by the barrier she had up, but it was clear that there was a struggle. 

She glared daggers at Lorn. “You bring a demon general before me? I can’t believe that you could pull such a thing off considering how much of a fool you are.” She pushed back against the blade that threatened to break her barrier and let loose a pulse of energy that forced the black clad figure to retreat a little bit. 

Lorn wickedly laughed again. “Today I will call a draw. Next time though, you will meet your maker. I will find a way to destroy you and claim the world for myself. Nobody is allowed to stand against me and live.” Ending his proclamation, he leapt skywards again. This time though, his red aura grew dense and shrouded him from view.

The red grew and grew. When it eventually dissipated, a large green scaled beast was in Lorn’s place. Its figure was imposing, being a jagged mess of flesh and spikes. Clearly a dragon, though twisted and disfigured. 

The old crone squinted her eyes at the shape that had formed in the sky. She unfortunately had to focus on the threat of the demon army that had descended on her. Showing her back to them could be dangerous. She was filled with a silent rage, as she could only watch her target escape. 

The conflict now booming below, Lorn in his new form let loose a thundering cry and powerfully flapped his wings to make his break for it. He sailed away into the distance, leaving behind the demons that had now engaged the old crone. Though he had not reclaimed what was his, he had at least gotten one over on that vile old woman. It was not enough to abate his rage, but it was enough to give some small sense of satisfaction.

---

The sounds of battle rang out for what felt like hours in the forest, but eventually died down. The old crone was covered head to toe in the blood of nearly a thousand people turned demons. Only a single enemy still stood, and even that one was bloodied and beaten. Their blade once roaring with shadow now only quivered with a tinge of darkness. One final attempt to strike the old crone in a frontal charge proved meaningless when the blade weakly clattered to the ground and the crone strode up next to them. In the next moment, their body exploded into a dark, bloody mist.

Inza took a deep breath and collected herself. She clenched her fists at her sides and looked to the heavens. This had not gone at all according to plan. She would have to spend a great deal of time preparing countermeasures for this. 

For today, Lorn may have actually had the last laugh over the old crone. She would not stand for this betrayal. He would face her wrath no matter what she had to do to achieve it.