"The Fallen Hero's Return: Saaransh's Legacy"

The battlefield was a graveyard of broken stone and blackened earth. The palace of the Demon King, once a symbol of strength, now existed in ruin—its walls once strong, now cracked, its spires high and proud, now broken and crumbling. The sky was a maelstrom of darkness, filled with lingering vestiges of abyssal power, casting haunted shadows upon the ruin. The air reeked of the acrid smell of blood and smoke, and the sounds of war had fallen silent.

Saaransh remained at the center of chaos, his breathing unsteady, his hold on the hilts of his dual swords—Frostfang and Emberclaw—growing tighter. Their magical blades glowed with scarce moonlight, one covered in frost, the other radiating embers, their contrasting energies intertwined. His friends were down. Ryu Jin and Yun Seo were lifeless, their bodies battered, and bruised, their weak respiration the sole evidence of existence. Kang Ha, their sole surviving mage, shook with fatigue, holding on by a hair's breadth to consciousness as he fought to lift his head.

Kang Ha: "Saaransh… please… win. Win for us… for all of them… The future of this world… is in your hands…"

It was a weakened voice, little more than a whisper, but one that bore the burden of hope and desperation.

Saaransh: "Rest now, Kang Ha. You've done enough. I will take care of the rest."

Kang Ha exhaled quietly, his eyes fluttering closed as unconsciousness finally claimed him. His struggle was at an end. Now, only two figures stood on the battlefield.

Saaransh and Vorkhael.

The Demon King towered above him, an unmoving force of destruction. His red eyes blazed with something between mirth and bloodlust, staring at the solitary warrior who still defied him. His black armor radiated hellish power, the etchings of ancient demons burning with fiery presence, twisting and writhing as if living. In his hand, the abomination greatsword of the abyss issued a creepy vibration, its serrated edge flowing with evil power. Around it, the air was distorted, reality itself flinching away from the mere contact of such a wicked blade.

This was it. The final stand. And Saaransh would never fail.

Vorkhael: "You're not like the rest… I knew it the instant you stepped into my lands. That aura, the flame in your eyes—there is something other about you. The others who came before you broke, their wills shattered like fragile glass. But you… you remain. Tell me, human, will that determination hold when you see the full range of my power?"

Saaransh: "Power, aura, bloodlust… none of that means anything to me. The only thing I'm concerned about is finishing you."

Vorkhael sneered, a flash of cruel humor in his scarlet eyes.

Vorkhael: "Good. Then let's resolve this with a fight befitting our names."

Saaransh launched forward, twin blades flashing with the speed of fire and ice. Vorkhael stood in his way, a massive sword cutting through the air. Their blades clashed, the force of the impact sending shockwaves through the earth itself.

Sparks flew as steel clashed against steel, each impact sending shockwaves radiating outward. Their movements became a blur—each strike driven by brute force, each parry imbued with all the force of their will. The earth shook where they stood, and the rubble shook beneath the violence of their conflict.

Vorkhael: "Yes! Show me more! Give me all you have!"

Saaransh sidestepped a vicious downward slash, the raw power of it cracking the ground where he had been a moment earlier. He struck back immediately, his sword driving forward in a flash of lightning. Vorkhael spun his body, avoiding the blow by mere inches before striking back with a crushing backhand swing. Saaransh barely had time to parry, the force of it sending him sliding backward, his boots gouging furrows into the shattered earth.

Saaransh: "Games are over. I'll finish it now!"

"Celestial Rift."

Saaransh struck through the very fabric of existence, calling forth a rift of celestial power that seethed with divine fury. The rift grew, pulling in the tainted abyssal energy and cleansing it in a wash of pure, blinding light.

The attack hurtled Vorkhael with unrestrained power.

Vorkhael: "Hah! Nice try, human. But not quite enough."

"Demonic Overlord's Wrath."

Vorkhael let out a battle roar, abyssal fire surging into his mighty greatsword. The blade shifted, forming a vessel of raw demonic power before unleashing a storm of darkness. The furious energy collided with Celestial Rift, and the battlefield shook beneath their combat.

The sky itself shattered. The brute power of their ultimate abilities slamming into each other caused shockwaves to rip through the air, obliterating what was left of the ruins around them.

Saaransh staggered slightly, sweat trickling down his brow. Vorkhael, too, had taken a step back, though his smirk remained, unfazed.

Vorkhael: "Impressive. But tell me, why do you fight so hard? For these people? These so-called 'friends' of yours? They use you, Saaransh. They praise you now, but the moment your usefulness fades, they will abandon you. That is the fate of all 'heroes.'"

Saaransh clenched his teeth.

Saaransh: "You know nothing about me, Vorkhael. I don't fight for glory or praise. I fight because it's the right thing to do. My friends, my people—they're worth fighting for. That's something you will never understand."

Vorkhael laughed menacingly.

Vorkhael: "Ah… the blind faith of a hero. How pathetic. But enough chatter. I am tire of this. Now, you die."

Darkness wrapped itself around Vorkhael, a churning vortex of abyssal power warping reality itself. His body stretched and contorted, blurring with the abyss until he was something greater—a gigantic, hellish wraith shrouded in darkness. His voice boomed out of the void, thick with the screams of untold lost souls.

"Shadow of Perdition."

A wave of darkness swept over the battlefield, an endless void consuming all in its path. The air itself became thick with hopelessness, and hope itself seemed to die under its crushing weight.

But Saaransh did not blink.

Saaransh: "I knew you would try something like this, Vorkhael. That's why I've prepared… the perfect counter."

He held his swords aloft, his aura unfolding into a whirlwind of godly energy. Frostfang and Emberclaw throbbed with overpowering brilliance, their conflicting forces of fire and ice blending into a force that no mortal could hope to understand.

"Final Dawn: Eclipse Annihilation."

Behind him, an enormous globe of fire and ice coalesced, its brilliance outshining the battlefield with blinding light. The very air shuddered at its presence.

Vorkhael's abyss rushed forward, a boundless sea of devouring night. But Saaransh was already in motion—quicker than thought, quicker than light itself.

Saaransh: "PERISH IN OBLIVION, VORKHAEL!"

His blow came like the wrath of the heavens, splitting through the void in one, majestic curve. The darkness screamed, its ity disintegrating as existence defied its presence. Vorkhael's grotesque shape shattered, his dying shriek lost to the emptiness as his strength folded in upon itself.

And silence.

The field was quiet. The corrupted hulk of the Demon King disintegrated into nothing.

Saaransh alone remained. His twin swords continued to smolder—one wrapped in flames that scalded, the other shrouded in ice that held fast—stern witnesses to the end of the battle.

Vorkhael, the King of Demons, was no more.

Aftermath

The burden of triumph lay upon him, heavier than his weariness. He slowly came to his fallen friends.

Kang Ha yet clung to life. Ryu Jin and Yun Seo were battered, and bloodied—but alive. Relief welled up in him, stronger than any war cry.

He had done it.

As if in recognition of his victory, the first light of dawn crept over the devastated battlefield, casting golden hues on the wreckage of war. The night was at an end.

Saaransh breathed out, his voice hardly above a whisper.

Saaransh: "It's over…"

And as the rush of adrenaline wore off, his eyesight blurred. His knees gave way.

Darkness enveloped him, but this time, it was not the abyss.

To Be Continued…