The aftermath of the raid was a scene of chilling efficiency. The bandits, with ruthless precision, gathered the trembling women and herded them back to their camp. The night air was heavy with a mix of fear and resignation as the captives shuffled along, their futures uncertain.At the camp, the bandits, with a twisted sense of hospitality, allowed their captives to clean themselves. The women, still in shock, moved robotically, their minds numbed by the night’s horrors.As the women bathed under the watchful eyes of their captors, Malachi observed them with a detached curiosity. His gaze was analytical, searching for any sign of rebellion or escape plans. But all he saw were broken spirits and defeated bodies.Later, as the bandits gathered around a roaring fire, the leader, a burly man named Garrick, made his appearance. His eyes, dark and calculating, scanned the captives with a predatory gaze. “Well done, boys,” he praised his men. “A fine haul tonight.”Malachi, still in his dis
As Garrick, driven by a mix of rage and desperation, charged towards Malachi, the air around them seemed to crackle with tension. Malachi, his expression unchanging, calmly assessed his adversary. He knew the bandit leader was no match for him, but he also understood the importance of making a statement.In a fluid, almost effortless motion, Malachi extended his hand, summoning the shadows around him. A bolt of dark energy, pulsating with malevolent power, coalesced in his palm. With a flick of his wrist, he released the Dark Bolt, directing it straight at Garrick.The bolt tore through the air with a hiss, striking Garrick squarely in the chest. The impact was devastating, the dark energy consuming him in an instant. Garrick’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, a look of shock forever etched on his face.As Garrick fell, a notification flashed.[You have killed a bandit].[You have received 20 soul points]. These acknowledgments of his deed were mere formalities to Malachi, insi
In the heart of the city, amidst the bustling training grounds, Malachi was deeply engaged in instructing a group of new recruits. His methods were unconventional, yet highly effective, drawing a crowd of onlookers who watched in awe. The children he had trained stood by, observing and learning from his every move.As Malachi demonstrated a complex maneuver, a soldier approached him, navigating through the crowd with a sense of purpose. The soldier, clad in the city’s guard uniform, carried himself with a respectful demeanor.“Master Malachi,” the soldier called out, drawing Malachi’s attention. The recruits paused, turning to witness the interaction.Malachi turned, his expression calm and inquisitive. “What is it?” he asked, his tone neither welcoming nor dismissive.The soldier bowed slightly, a sign of deep respect. “I bring a message for you, sir,” he said, extending his hand to present a magnificent letter. The envelope was adorned with gold embellishments, its craftsmanship ind
As Malachi stepped into the grand hall of the estate, he was immediately struck by the opulence that surrounded him. The room was a dazzling array of colors and lights, filled with beautiful women in flowing gowns and handsome nobles in their finest attire. Each person there held a tall standing, rulers of their own territories, their power and influence palpable in the air.Surveying the room, Malachi couldn’t help but think that this gathering was much more significant than he had initially anticipated. The small, relatively poor town he had been staying in seemed an unlikely place to draw the attention of such high-ranking nobility. His reputation, it seemed, had spread far and wide, or perhaps these nobles were facing a threat so grave that they were willing to use any means to increase their odds of survival.As he mingled through the crowd, a noble approached him. The man carried himself with an air of authority and grace, his eyes sharp and assessing.“Master Malachi, it’s a
In the moonlit garden of the estate, an air of anticipation and amusement filled the air as Malachi and the tall, blonde nobleman faced each other. The gathering of nobles, drawn by the prospect of a light sparring session between the renowned Malachi and one of their own, stood around in a semi-circle, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright glee.The nobleman, his rapier hanging elegantly at his waist, introduced himself with a flourish. “I am Lord Edric, a humble practitioner of the blade,” he said, his voice carrying a note of pride. He offered Malachi a slight nod, the gesture a subtle acknowledgment of respect typically given to a commoner by a noble.Malachi, understanding the nuances of the gesture, responded in kind. He bent his knees slightly and bowed his head, maintaining eye contact with Lord Edric. This posture indicated his respect for the noble’s status, yet it also conveyed his readiness to engage fully in the spar.As they prepared to begin, another nobl
After the unsettling events of the evening, Malachi made his way back to his room within the estate, his footsteps echoing softly in the dimly lit corridors. Upon entering, he gracefully sank onto the bed, exhaling a calculated sigh of feigned exhaustion. He sprawled there, his posture a picture of weariness, yet his mind was anything but at rest. Malachi was acutely aware of the ever-watchful eyes that monitored his every move, invisible threads of scrutiny woven throughout the noble’s domain.No sooner had he settled than the door creaked open, revealing a maid pushing a cart laden with refreshments: a pitcher of fresh orange juice, an assortment of fruits, and an array of snacks. She approached with a quiet efficiency, placing the cart beside him with a deferential bow before turning to leave, her movements practiced and unobtrusive.Malachi’s gaze followed her departure, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, appreciating the predictable routine of hospitality—or perhaps, su
They call him the heartless demon. A demon with no sense of remorse or empathy.A creature that knows only to kill and feast upon his enemies. Others call him a satanic being, capable and intelligent enough to comprehend the concept of morality but fully decided to act against it.In his quest for power, he had stab the back of his own allies, and killed anyone that was foolish enough to block his path.But perhaps, his journey could come to and end here.The gate of the throne room opened with a bang. A two meter tall death knight appeared and spoke: “Master, the enemies breache—“Before the undead could finish speaking, a long sword enveloped in bright light pierced through its chest.“Malachi! Your undead army has been eradicated! This is where you’re going to die!”Ten figures appeared by the gate. All of them wore thick and strong armor with powerful weapons in their hand.“You won’t stand a chance against the ten of us. We are united here to destroy you once and for all!”Mala
Malachi opened his eyes and found himself waking up on his bed. He looked around and recalled that this was his bedroom a long time ago.“I went back in time. The sacrificial ritual worked. It was a good thing that I captured and tortured more than 100,000 souls as offerings.” “The day that should be my end, becomes my beginning.” Malachi clenched his fist. “In this life, I will not face the same fate. I know the future. With my knowledge and vast battle experience, regaining my former strength shouldn’t be a problem.”Malachi had lived over hundreds of years. He had traveled far and wide, gaining uncountable experiences and knowledge in his journey. Information about valuable treasures and their locations were kept inside his head. These treasures were his trump card.He was certain that no one would get to them before he did.“But I have to start training if I want to obtain those treasures.”Most of the treasures were located in extremely dangerous places. Going to these places r
After the unsettling events of the evening, Malachi made his way back to his room within the estate, his footsteps echoing softly in the dimly lit corridors. Upon entering, he gracefully sank onto the bed, exhaling a calculated sigh of feigned exhaustion. He sprawled there, his posture a picture of weariness, yet his mind was anything but at rest. Malachi was acutely aware of the ever-watchful eyes that monitored his every move, invisible threads of scrutiny woven throughout the noble’s domain.No sooner had he settled than the door creaked open, revealing a maid pushing a cart laden with refreshments: a pitcher of fresh orange juice, an assortment of fruits, and an array of snacks. She approached with a quiet efficiency, placing the cart beside him with a deferential bow before turning to leave, her movements practiced and unobtrusive.Malachi’s gaze followed her departure, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, appreciating the predictable routine of hospitality—or perhaps, su
In the moonlit garden of the estate, an air of anticipation and amusement filled the air as Malachi and the tall, blonde nobleman faced each other. The gathering of nobles, drawn by the prospect of a light sparring session between the renowned Malachi and one of their own, stood around in a semi-circle, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright glee.The nobleman, his rapier hanging elegantly at his waist, introduced himself with a flourish. “I am Lord Edric, a humble practitioner of the blade,” he said, his voice carrying a note of pride. He offered Malachi a slight nod, the gesture a subtle acknowledgment of respect typically given to a commoner by a noble.Malachi, understanding the nuances of the gesture, responded in kind. He bent his knees slightly and bowed his head, maintaining eye contact with Lord Edric. This posture indicated his respect for the noble’s status, yet it also conveyed his readiness to engage fully in the spar.As they prepared to begin, another nobl
As Malachi stepped into the grand hall of the estate, he was immediately struck by the opulence that surrounded him. The room was a dazzling array of colors and lights, filled with beautiful women in flowing gowns and handsome nobles in their finest attire. Each person there held a tall standing, rulers of their own territories, their power and influence palpable in the air.Surveying the room, Malachi couldn’t help but think that this gathering was much more significant than he had initially anticipated. The small, relatively poor town he had been staying in seemed an unlikely place to draw the attention of such high-ranking nobility. His reputation, it seemed, had spread far and wide, or perhaps these nobles were facing a threat so grave that they were willing to use any means to increase their odds of survival.As he mingled through the crowd, a noble approached him. The man carried himself with an air of authority and grace, his eyes sharp and assessing.“Master Malachi, it’s a
In the heart of the city, amidst the bustling training grounds, Malachi was deeply engaged in instructing a group of new recruits. His methods were unconventional, yet highly effective, drawing a crowd of onlookers who watched in awe. The children he had trained stood by, observing and learning from his every move.As Malachi demonstrated a complex maneuver, a soldier approached him, navigating through the crowd with a sense of purpose. The soldier, clad in the city’s guard uniform, carried himself with a respectful demeanor.“Master Malachi,” the soldier called out, drawing Malachi’s attention. The recruits paused, turning to witness the interaction.Malachi turned, his expression calm and inquisitive. “What is it?” he asked, his tone neither welcoming nor dismissive.The soldier bowed slightly, a sign of deep respect. “I bring a message for you, sir,” he said, extending his hand to present a magnificent letter. The envelope was adorned with gold embellishments, its craftsmanship ind
As Garrick, driven by a mix of rage and desperation, charged towards Malachi, the air around them seemed to crackle with tension. Malachi, his expression unchanging, calmly assessed his adversary. He knew the bandit leader was no match for him, but he also understood the importance of making a statement.In a fluid, almost effortless motion, Malachi extended his hand, summoning the shadows around him. A bolt of dark energy, pulsating with malevolent power, coalesced in his palm. With a flick of his wrist, he released the Dark Bolt, directing it straight at Garrick.The bolt tore through the air with a hiss, striking Garrick squarely in the chest. The impact was devastating, the dark energy consuming him in an instant. Garrick’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, a look of shock forever etched on his face.As Garrick fell, a notification flashed.[You have killed a bandit].[You have received 20 soul points]. These acknowledgments of his deed were mere formalities to Malachi, insi
The aftermath of the raid was a scene of chilling efficiency. The bandits, with ruthless precision, gathered the trembling women and herded them back to their camp. The night air was heavy with a mix of fear and resignation as the captives shuffled along, their futures uncertain.At the camp, the bandits, with a twisted sense of hospitality, allowed their captives to clean themselves. The women, still in shock, moved robotically, their minds numbed by the night’s horrors.As the women bathed under the watchful eyes of their captors, Malachi observed them with a detached curiosity. His gaze was analytical, searching for any sign of rebellion or escape plans. But all he saw were broken spirits and defeated bodies.Later, as the bandits gathered around a roaring fire, the leader, a burly man named Garrick, made his appearance. His eyes, dark and calculating, scanned the captives with a predatory gaze. “Well done, boys,” he praised his men. “A fine haul tonight.”Malachi, still in his dis
The city, usually bustling with the everyday clamor of its inhabitants, was blissfully unaware of the new threat lurking within its walls. A group of bandits, cunningly disguised as merchants, made their way through the city gates. The guards, diligent but unsuspecting, waved them through without a second glance. But the keen eyes of the street children, who had learned to notice the unusual in their daily struggle for survival, immediately sensed something amiss.Eli, one of the children who had recently started training under Malachi, narrowed his eyes as he watched the carriage trundle through the streets. “Something’s not right about them,” he muttered to his companions. The group of children, their curiosity piqued, decided to follow the disguised bandits at a safe distance.The carriage, instead of heading towards the bustling market square as one would expect from merchants, stopped at a restaurant near the military barracks. The bandits chose a table outside, ostensibly to enj
The following day dawned with a new challenge for the children under Malachi’s tutelage. As the sun rose, casting its golden rays over the barracks, Malachi led them into the dense forest where the soldiers were already engaged in a hunt. The soldiers, formidable and seasoned, moved with precision and confidence, hunting giant bears, wolves, and other fearsome beasts.“Watch closely,” Malachi instructed the children. “Observe their tactics, their coordination. There is much to learn from them.”The soldiers, aware of their young audience, seemed to take pride in their prowess. They displayed extravagant moves, working in pairs to efficiently track and take down their targets. Each move was a blend of strength and strategy, a dance between predator and prey.The children, wide-eyed with amazement, whispered among themselves, pointing out the soldiers’ techniques and the fluidity of their actions. They were particularly impressed by how even in the face of danger, the soldiers maintaine
After the refreshing bath in the lake, Malachi's demeanor shifted from nurturing to demanding. "Now, we run," he announced, his tone leaving no room for debate. The children, still catching their breath from the earlier exercise, exchanged weary glances but dutifully followed as Malachi set off at a steady pace.The run was grueling. Malachi led them over several kilometers of undulating hills, each ascent more challenging than the last. Then, without warning, he veered off towards a mountainous terrain. The children's legs burned with fatigue, their breaths shallow and rapid. The sun, now high in the sky, beat down mercilessly, adding to their exhaustion.Some of the children began to falter, their steps slowing, bodies slumping towards the ground. Voices of protest rose among them, pleading for a respite. Malachi, however, was unyielding. "Keep going," he commanded. "True warriors find strength even in their weakest moments. This training is not for the faint-hearted."His words, t