One of the surviving bandits staggered into their hideout, his face pale from blood loss. “B-Boss… ugh… a boy… he killed everyone with a single strike,” he gasped, barely standing.
A 6'5 ft tall, white-haired man with a scar on his lips looked up, his sharp features exuding both authority and menace. His muscular frame was lean, and despite his rugged appearance, he carried a certain cold charisma.
"I see." he said calmly—then, without hesitation, he slashed his blade, severing the wounded bandit's head in one swift motion. "Failure is unacceptable. I have no use for useless reports," Kaelzar, the notorious bandit leader, muttered as he flicked the blood from his sword.
Kaelzar, the infamous bandit leader, gazes at the severed head of his fallen subordinate with cold indifference. His piercing blue eyes, seem to dissect the lifeless face, as if expecting answers only death could provide.
"Return with results, or don’t return at all," he growls, his voice carrying a quiet menace. The tension in the room thickens, his mere presence radiating a brutal authority that keeps his men on edge. As nervous glances are exchanged, Kaelzar sweeps his gaze over them, already calculating his next move. One thing is certain—he will not rest until he exacts revenge on the boy who effortlessly slaughtered his men.
"Kaelzar!!!" His eyes narrow as five Emerald-ranked adventurers' storm into his lair. These seasoned warriors, only three ranks below the legendary Diamond Rank, stand with unwavering confidence. "Well, well," Kaelzar smirks, his scarred lips twisting in amusement. "The so-called heroes have finally arrived. How quaint." Rising to his feet, his presence alone radiates authority and danger. He studies them carefully—their battle-worn armor, the way they carry themselves, and the unmistakable aura of strength that marks them as elite fighters. But Kaelzar is unfazed. If anything, their arrival only makes things more interesting for him.
"You adventurers never learn. If you want to kill me, send a Diamond or Ruby rank, you fools." Kaelzar said, dashing forward with his deadly dagger. In an instant, he beheaded three of the adventurers, leaving only the two women—a healer and a mage. "I’ll have my fun with you two," he sneered.
The remaining adventurers, Lyra the healer and Astrid the mage, froze in horror at the brutal scene. Kaelzar, with a manic gleam in his eyes, lunged at them, his dagger slicing through the air with deadly speed. Lyra instinctively stepped in front of Astrid, trying to cast a shield spell, but her focus faltered from fear, and the magic flickered weakly. Astrid, sensing Lyra’s panic, summoned her arcane power, launching a barrage of fiery projectiles to stop Kaelzar’s attack. But Kaelzar moved like lightning, dodging the flames with ease as he closed in, his dagger poised to strike.
"We need to get out of here!" Astrid gasped, forming a massive fireball in her hands. She knew the explosion would bring down the entire tunnel, burying them all—but she trusted Lyra's healing and shield magic to keep them alive.
"As if I'd let you," Kaelzar snarled, his eyes cold and merciless. In a flash, he drove his dagger into Astrid’s heart after Lyra cancel the shield spell for Astrid to hurl the fireball. She choked back a scream, pain searing through her body, but she refused to fall just yet. With the last of her strength, she hurled the fireball forward, unleashing a devastating explosion that sent the tunnel crashing down. With a deafening roar, shaking the cavern to its core. The walls crack and crumble, sending dust and debris cascading down. Smoke fills the air, making it hard to breathe.
Lyra throws herself over Astrid’s lifeless body, her healing magic barely holding back the scorching heat. Her shield flickers under the strain, but she refuses to let go. Kaelzar staggers backward, his dagger slipping from his grasp. His eyes widen as he realizes the cave is collapsing around him, the weight of the destruction sealing his fate. As the dust settles, Lyra, burned and exhausted, looks up at the newly-formed opening in the cavern’s ceiling—a glimpse of the open sky and a chance at survival.
Lyra, sobbing, collected the name tags of her fallen adventurer friends and limped out of the cave.
"Where do you think you’re going?" Kaelzar growled. His body was covered in scratches, his upper clothes torn off, and his skin marked with burns. Yet, none of it slowed him down. He pulled out an expensive healing potion and poured it over his wounds, the burns fading into scars.
Lyra, her spirit shattered by the loss of her comrades, stumbled into the sunlight, clutching the name tags as a painful reminder of their bond. Her face, once bright, was now pale, streaked with tears. Kaelzar, rejuvenated by the potion, stepped out of the ruined cave with a fierce determination. His scars, once blemishes, now seemed like marks of triumph, proof of his relentless will to survive and conquer. "You foolish girl," he sneered, closing in on Lyra with deliberate steps. "Did you really think you could beat me? I am Kaelzar, the Scourge of the Grasslands! No one stands in my way for long!" And with that, everything seems to turn black for Lyra...
In the midst of the peaceful grasslands, the grim sight of Lyra’s crucifixion stood as a stark contrast. Her body hung limp from the twisted branch of an old oak tree, her once-bright green eyes now dull and frozen in shock.
Deep cuts marked her pale skin, a horrifying testament to the violence she endured. Though her modesty was somewhat preserved, the signs of her assault were unmistakable—torn flower petals, like the ones she once loved, were scattered across her lower body. This cruel scene revealed the depths of Kaelzar’s evil, a man capable of unspeakable acts in his quest for power. Yet, even in death, Lyra’s calm expression hinted at a spirit that remained connected to the living—a martyr whose sacrifice would not be forgotten.