Dragon's Wrath: The Cursed Returnee



As Ethan stood before the army of demons, he felt their collective gaze fix upon him, their eyes burning with a primal bloodlust that usually would send a chill down his spine. However, despite their intense hostility, their ranks had an unsettling stillness. They did not immediately charge or make any aggressive moves. It was as if they were awaiting something, biding their time with an eerie patience.

Their intent was clear in their twisted expressions: a hunger for battle and the desire to inflict pain upon their adversaries. The air crackled with a palpable tension, an anticipation of the imminent clash between Ethan and this horde of demonic creatures.

Yet, Ethan couldn't help but sense a hesitation, a reluctance in their actions. It was as if they were bound by some unseen force, restrained from unleashing their full might upon him. Despite their bloodlust, the demons seemed held back, perhaps by a command or an unspoken agreement amongst themselves.

As the enemies saw Ethan, a path began to form amidst their ranks. Like a dark tide parting, the lesser demons and monsters moved aside, clearing the way toward the central stronghold where the demon king and his generals awaited.

Their eyes glowed with malice and anticipation as they watched Ethan's advance. They knew the significance of his arrival and recognized the threat he posed to their master's reign. The demons, though formidable in their own right, understood that the true challenge lay in the confrontation with the chosen hero.

With twisted grins and bared fangs, the enemy forces formed a corridor, allowing Ethan passage through their midst. It was an eerie sight, the horde of demons parting like a macabre pathway through the darkness, their menacing gazes fixed upon the lone figure moving inexorably forward.

"I can fly, motherfuckers," Ethan said. "Are you guys retarded or what?" 

As Ethan soared above the army of demons, their voices erupted in a cacophony of jeers and insults. Their foul language and vile taunts echoed through the air, each word meant to pierce his resolve and sow doubt within his heart. But Ethan remained steadfast, his focus unwavering, as he ignored their venomous words.

The demons' shouts, filled with anger and malice, washed over him like a bitter wind. Their attempts to intimidate and provoke him were met with stoic silence. Ethan knew that succumbing to their verbal assault would only serve to distract him from his purpose.

"I don't mind starting the fight right here, but it will be hard to fight the four generals and the demon king at the same time with my current strength," Ethan thought.

The demon king and his generals, who stood in the heart of the battlefield, appeared strangely passive. Their lack of action raised questions in Ethan's mind. Why weren't they engaging in the fight? Why did they allow him to approach so easily?

The demons below continued their assault, their vile words and attacks aimed at diverting his attention. But Ethan remained vigilant, his instincts telling him that something was amiss. It seemed almost too convenient that the demon king and his generals would remain idle. At the same time, their army clashed with the forces opposing them.

As he neared the stronghold, Ethan's mind raced with possibilities. Were they planning a trap? Was this a deliberate ploy to lure him in? He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their inaction than met the eye. It seemed too suspicious, too calculated.

"After getting their asses kicked by me, they should know that mind games and theatrics won't do them any good," Ethan thought.

Ethan sees the demon king and his generals in front of a tent and waits for him. Ethan assumed that they were taunting his pride and making him expose himself by approaching them.

As Ethan cautiously approached the demon king and his generals, he couldn't shake off the sense of danger that lingered in the air. He understood the risks involved in engaging with them directly. Still, he also recognized that this was a unique opportunity to gather vital intelligence without having to engage in a large-scale battle.

By confronting the demon king and his generals, Ethan hoped to uncover their true motives, understand their plans, and perhaps even exploit their weaknesses. It was a calculated risk, one that required him to navigate the treacherous waters of diplomacy amidst a sea of hostility.

"Well, let's see how this will play out," Ethan thought.

In the end, Ethan moved toward the enemies after he returned to his human form. He landed on the ground, and the monsters around began to grit their teeth. If a gaze could kill, all of them would have killed dozens of times over.

When Ethan arrived in front of the large tent, all the demons went silent. Despite wearing a smile, the demon king carried an unsettling air of arrogance and power. His eyes, filled with a mix of malice and amusement, seemed to hold a thousand secrets. It was a smile that sent shivers down Ethan's spine, for it concealed the true nature of this formidable adversary.

The juxtaposition of their expressions only heightened the sense of unease. On one hand, the generals reveled in their own malevolence, while the demon king exuded a veneer of calm confidence. It was a disconcerting contrast as if they were playing a twisted game, toying with the lives of others for their own amusement.

Ethan could sense that there was much more beneath the surface, hidden agendas and motivations that were yet to be revealed. The smiles and glances exchanged among the demons hinted at a deeper understanding, a shared purpose that remained elusive to him.

"The cursed hero, Ethan…" Drag'drath said while looking down at Ethan since he was three meters tall. "You didn't change a bit."

"You didn't change either; I thought that after six months in the other world, you would return with a tan or something," Ethan said after he crossed his arms.