(Monestary of the Open hand)

The air was thick with the smell of smoke and blood. The peaceful hum of the monastery, which had been a sanctuary of calm and spiritual practice for so many years, was now drowned by the roar of flames and the clash of steel. Demons rampaged through the halls that Moriah had once walked in serenity. The stone walls, which had witnessed his transformation from a creature of wrath to a being of peace, now crumbled under the assault of an infernal force far greater than any the monks had ever faced.

The Demon Lord — a towering figure of dark energy and malice — stood at the center of the battlefield, his presence a black void that drained the hope from every heart. His eyes, burning with unholy fire, locked on Zorath, and the demon warrior felt the weight of his past settle on his shoulders like a mountain. This was the price for abandoning the darkness, for defying his demonic nature.

"You thought you could escape what you are, Zorath?" the Demon Lord’s voice rumbled like thunder across the battlefield. "You belong to me."

Moriah growled in defiance, launching himself into the fray with renewed fury. He fought his way toward the Demon Lord, but before he could reach his former master, a figure stepped into his path — Master Kharas. They fought together as Master and Student, but even that wasn't enough.

With a final surge of power, the Demon Lord sent a wave of dark energy crashing through the monastery, shattering its walls, toppling statues, and extinguishing the flames of the candles that had burned in prayer for centuries. Moriah felt the energy rip through him, sending him hurtling into the air. His vision blurred as he crashed into the stone walls of the courtyard.

When the darkness consumed him, he feared he had failed.

(Hours later...)

You arrived alone at the ruins of the monestary, searching for any survivors. Everywhere you looked, the bodies of monks and demons laid dead on the floor. In the corner of your eye, you see a demonic body twitch.