Herson, with his exhausted and wounded body, was now barely defending himself. The arms that raised his sword trembled from the countless blows he had endured.

I swung my sickles at him, again and again, with the ruthlessness of a storm.

My goal was not to wound him, but to tire him, to exhaust him. I would not stop until he had no strength left, until his steel will was broken.

His wrists were trembling now, he could barely even hold his sword.

But still, with that damn pride, he continued to fight, to stand. Weakened and bleeding, he continued to make the last stand for his ruined castle.

He deserved the name "Red General" to the very end.

But it was futile. Today, here, he would pay the price for his actions. Today, I would kill him.

It was close. All I needed was a small opening. A single moment of carelessness was all it took for me to tear his heart from his chest.

I increased my speed, making my attacks more savage, more unpredictable. And finally, he gave me that opening. The moment he swung his sword at a monster, his guard dropped.

With the back of my sickle, I landed a hard blow on the weakest point of his armor, his stomach. He doubled over in pain. Then, I slashed a deep cut across his chest with my other sickle.

The thick armor was breached with an ear splitting screech of metal as the sickle made contact.

I grabbed his sword hand and pulled him toward me. I kneed him in his unprotected stomach.

Then, I slammed my fist into his back with all my might. He crashed violently onto the ruined stones of the castle.

To finish the job, I tried to crush his head with my foot. But just as my blow was about to land, my leg was severed below the knee. I roared in pain.

Herson, with a final effort, had grabbed his sword and knelt quickly behind me. He had plunged his sword through my back, all the way to my chest.

With the back of my hand, I struck him before he could even pull the blade from my body, sending him flying meters back into the rubble.

I did not let him recover. Ignoring my rapidly regenerating leg, I was moving toward him when... At that moment, a massive, phoenix like fireball came flying from inside the palace, straight at me.

I shattered the spell in mid air with my sickle. Flames scattered everywhere. I looked in the direction the magic had come from.

My sister... Vexana. She stood in the middle of the courtyard, having left the castle, her jewel adorned staff pointed at me.

"VEXANA! NO!" Herson shouted. "You should not be here! Go back!"

That look in his eyes... The tremble in his voice... The pure, unadulterated concern of a father for his child.

Could you not have looked at me like that, just once? I was your child too. But you... you chose to punish me my entire life for things I did not do, things I could not control.

These thoughts fueled my hatred even more.

I ignored Herson. I ignored my bleeding wounds and turned my full attention to Vexana. Herson, as if understanding my intent, scrambled to his feet, trying to block my path. But it was useless. The horde of monsters surrounding him did not permit it.

I continued to walk slowly toward Vexana, dragging my sickle on the ground. The grating sound it made on the stone floor was like the beginning of a death symphony. It made Vexana tremble in fear.

She continued to panic, sending spells at me. Ice lances, wind slashes, fireballs... But it was futile. As soon as the spells hit the runed rags covering my body, they were absorbed, unable to leave a single scratch on me.

"Stay back!" Vexana shouted, her voice beginning to tremble with fear.

But I did not stop. I kept advancing on her.

"Do not come near me... MONSTER!" she screamed with all her might, her eyes filled with tears.

Actually... Vexana had never been physically cruel to me, not like Mordret. But she had been indifferent to my existence her entire life.

She had acted as if someone like me simply did not exist. My existence was just a source of shame for her perfect, noble life. And the best way to be rid of it was to ignore me.

But now she could not ignore me, even if she wanted to, could she?

Vexana, in a final effort, tried to use wind magic to fly away.

But she had only risen a few meters off the ground when I leaped into the air with a massive bound and caught her by her delicate leg. Then, with all my strength, I hurled her back down to the ground.

She barely tried to cast another wind spell to slow her descent, but it was futile. The force of the impact did its job.

She hit the ground like a pebble. Her head split open, bones shattered, and she vomited blood.

"VEXANA!" Herson roared.

He tried to madly carve through the enemies surrounding him. He used all his strength to reach his daughter.

But the monsters had him surrounded on all sides. This was a war without end.

I grabbed Vexana by the hair as she tried to crawl on the ground, wounded, and lifted her into the air. She was barely conscious, her eyes closing in agony.

Then, I looked directly into my father, Herson's, eyes. All it would take was a single move.

I would kill Vexana and turn my father's life into an endless nightmare. I would watch, to the very end, the desperation on his face as he watched his most precious, his perfect daughter, die. Yes... Yes, this was what I wanted!

I raised my sickle for the final, killing blow. I could see Herson's lips moving helplessly as he tried to cut through the monsters and get to me.

"I BEG YOU, STOP!" he shouted. "IT'S MY LIFE YOU WANT, ISN'T IT? THEN COME AND TAKE IT! I WON'T RESIST YOU! I SWEAR, JUST DON'T TOUCH HER!"

He screamed desperately, trying to cut his way free.

"I BEG YOU! I AM SORRY FOR EVERYTHING I'VE DONE TO YOU! I REGRET IT SO MUCH! IF YOU STOP, I WILL FORGET EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED HERE! JUST... DON'T DO IT!"

Hearing my father's pleas, I paused involuntarily. I held my sickle in the air.

The great "Red General"... The invincible man who had spent his life fighting dark gods and demons... was now begging me, his despised monster daughter. He was apologizing to me for what he had done.

But I knew... He was not sincere. His words were just the last, pathetic attempt of a father scrambling to save his daughter.

And yet I was your child too... Did you ever even think of loving me? Did you at least... just once... try? The answer to my thoughts was clear OF COURSE NOT!

I plunged my sickle into Vexana's stomach with all my strength. Her warm blood splattered onto me. Then, like a rag doll, I tossed her aside, leaving her for dead.

Herson froze in shock. His sword slipped from his hand. He could not believe his eyes.

His daughter's name escaped his lips one last time, a choked whisper.

"Vexana...?!"

I ordered the monsters around him to stand back. I wanted him to see his daughter's final moments, to see the pain she was in. I wanted to see his helplessness as he touched his daughter's wounded body. I wanted to see him cry. I wanted to see him break.

But Herson just stood there. He tore his gaze from his daughter's dying body and fixed it on the air, on the dark night sky. He did not move, did not say anything. His sword hung uselessly in his hand.

Then, his lips quirked into a small chuckle. That chuckle turned into a maniacal laugh.

"I understand," he whispered. "So this is the price..."

At that moment, Herson's shattered red armor began to glow with a blinding crimson light. The sky turned red, as if it were bleeding. Even the moon was stained crimson by this horror.

The entire sky gathered into a single, massive, crimson lightning bolt. An apocalyptic, divine energy descended, with Herson at its center. The last thing I felt before I closed my eyes was a pure, searing, all consuming pain.

The explosion engulfed the entire city and the castle. The buildings, the surviving civilians, my monsters... Everything turned to ash in seconds.

...

When I opened my eyes, I rose from among the burning embers. Every fiber of my being protested from the effects of that divine attack. I was incredibly weak.

I looked around. Nothing remained of the city; only a massive, smoldering crater. The only structure left standing, and even that half demolished, was the castle. Aside from a few scorched guards and a handful of monsters who had barely survived, everything was gone.

Me... and my father, Herson.

His armor was completely shattered. His sword had melted. He could barely stand on trembling knees amidst the ashes. I retrieved my sickles from the molten earth and took my final steps toward him.

He tried to raise the cracked, molten hilt of his sword to meet my final attack, but he failed. With the strike of my scythe, what remained of his sword flew from his hand.

He was unarmed. Defenseless.

I raised my sickles to finish him. My heart was pounding in my chest. Finally... Was my revenge over? Was I making him pay for all the pain, all the hatred?

THEN... WHY AM I NOT HAPPY?

My father closed his weary eyes, as if accepting his fate.

The sickles in my hands were trembling. Why am I hesitating now? I am exactly where I wanted to be. I am a monster... am I not?

Before I could summon the courage to land that final blow, I heard a massive, earth shaking impact behind me. The entire city ruin shook, and I barely kept my balance.

I turned around, hesitant.

In the middle of the wreckage stood a creature, fifteen meters tall, with massive golden wings and a body covered in magnificent scales that shone like the sun. Sharp protrusions extended down its tail, and its giant draconic eyes were focused on me, filled with rage.

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