Let's Train Heroine

The path leading to Icelist was desolate, a stark contrast to the destruction Z'thraag had left in his wake. Snow blanketed the mountain pass ahead, and the chill of the air gnawed at anything that dared to venture too close. But for Z'thraag, the cold didn't matter. The snow melted beneath him, turning into toxic slush as his acidic body continued to poison the land with each step.

Every tree, every bush, and even the stone beneath his feet eroded into nothingness, leaving behind a trail of death as he advanced toward the towering, snow-covered peaks.

Beyond these mountains was the Light Moon Country, his destination. He had been commanded by Nyx herself to bring ruin to this place, and he intended to follow her orders. But Z'thraag moved slower than usual now. Despite his vast power, he felt something gnawing at the back of his mind, an unsettling feeling left behind after his encounter with the strange woman. Nyx.

She had reduced him to a quivering wreck with nothing more than a look, and that had shaken him in ways he couldn't explain.

But now, none of that mattered. Z'thraag trudged forward, his enormous bulk slithering up the slope of the mountain. The bitter cold of the Icelist mountain range met the poisonous heat of his body, creating a strange, acrid fog that clung to the land.

Just as he crested the first ridge, something unusual caught his eye.

A man stood ahead, alone in the snow, his back turned toward Z'thraag as if he hadn't noticed the demon's approach. The figure was tall, wrapped in a long, dark coat, his hair swept back by the mountain wind. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, and there was no sign of fear or panic, something Z'thraag had grown accustomed to seeing in the eyes of those who faced him.

Another fool come to die.

Z'thraag let out a low, rumbling growl. His grotesque, one-eyed gaze locked onto the man, and his body pulsed with acidic heat. Normally, he enjoyed toying with his prey, dragging out their suffering before ending their miserable lives, but this time he felt bored.

He would kill this one quickly.

With a grunt, Z'thraag reared up, the slithering mass of his body pulling together. Acid began to ooze from his pores, bubbling across his skin as he gathered it into a deadly wave. With a monstrous roar, he sent the wave of corrosive fluid hurtling toward the man, intending to melt him where he stood.

But something unexpected happened.

The man moved.

In a blur of motion, the figure dodged to the side, avoiding the acid with ease. Not a drop touched him. Z'thraag blinked, his massive eye narrowing as confusion swept over him. The man hadn't just dodged—he had done so with a grace and speed.

Then the man spoke, his voice calm, almost casual.

"Z'thraag," he said, turning around to face the demon at last. "According to the game, you weren't supposed to appear here."

Z'thraag froze, his grotesque face contorting in confusion. Game? What was this human talking about? Z'thraag had encountered many strange things in his long, violent existence, but this made no sense. He didn't understand the words, but the tone of the man's voice unsettled him. It was as though this human knew something.

Not that it mattered. Z'thraag would kill him all the same.

The demon let out a deep, guttural snarl, his body shifting as he prepared to attack again. He moved fast, despite his massive bulk, surging forward with one enormous arm raised to crush the man where he stood.

But again, the man moved with impossible speed, dodging the attack effortlessly.

"You were supposed to wake up after the Evil Magician woke up," the man continued, his tone still casual, almost as if he were having a normal conversation. "So it means the Evil Magician woke up... How did this happen?"

Z'thraag roared in fury, his patience long gone. Who was this insolent human, and what nonsense was he spouting? Z'thraag didn't care about magicians, or games, or any of the other things this man was talking about. All he knew was that this human was still alive, and that was something he intended to change.

The demon's single eye burned with rage as he lashed out again, this time pouring his magical energy into the attack. The acidic power he commanded gathered in his hands, swirling and bubbling as he hurled it toward the man with deadly precision.

This time, he would not miss.

But as the acid shot forward, the man merely shook his head.

"The game plot is already ruined," the man said, sidestepping the attack as easily as before. "And it's good the Evil Magician is awake. Now I can find him and kill him, then enjoy the rest of my life."

He spoke as though Z'thraag wasn't even a threat. As though the demon wasn't a towering monster capable of wiping entire countries off the map. Z'thraag's rage grew, his body seething with acid as he prepared to charge again.

But something stopped him.

The man's eyes—once ordinary—had turned black. Completely black, as if they were endless voids, swallowing all light. And in that moment, Z'thraag felt something he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Fear.

It was faint, but unmistakable. The energy radiating from this human... no, not a human... it was the same energy that Nyx had possessed. The same terrible, crushing power that had brought Z'thraag to his knees.

The man lifted a hand, his expression no longer casual. Now, there was an intensity in his gaze that made Z'thraag instinctively back away, a primal sense of danger creeping into his mind.

"Obliterate," the man whispered, his voice quiet, almost soft.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, without warning, Z'thraag's entire body convulsed. He felt it—an all-encompassing force wrapping around him, crushing him from every direction. The acid that dripped from his pores sizzled, evaporating into nothingness. His skin, his flesh, his very being began to dissolve, not in the way he was accustomed to, but in a way that was terrifyingly foreign.

Z'thraag tried to move, tried to strike, but his body wouldn't respond. The overwhelming power of the man's attack left him paralyzed, helpless. Panic surged through him, something he had never felt before.

"No..." Z'thraag gurgled, his voice weak and distorted as his form began to unravel. "No... this can't... be..."

The darkness consumed him, tearing apart his very essence, atom by atom. And then, with one final, gut-wrenching roar, Z'thraag was gone. His existence—erased.

The man lowered his hand, exhaling deeply as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, shaking his head in disbelief at what he had just done.

"Well," he muttered to himself, "this ability is too strong, but it's hard to use."

The snow around him remained untouched, untainted by Z'thraag's acid. The mountain pass was eerily silent, as if the world itself had been holding its breath.

The man stretched, rolling his shoulders before turning away from the now empty spot where Z'thraag had stood. He looked back briefly, as if checking to make sure the demon was truly gone, then continued walking. Experience tales with empire

Lucan's Evil Magician Ability is make anything true by just talking. An overpowered ability.