The battlefield was swarmed with imps and demonic beasts. Your companions and fellow soldiers were scattered by the sheer numbers, black blood staining the dirt as swords clattered and slashed through the mindless spawns crawling from the opening in the earth.

You could barely keep track of your own movements, led almost entirely by instinct and muscle memory from countless hours spent training and sparring.

All you knew is you weren't dead. Casualties and injuries came later. Now, it was a fight to the portal, to close the rift to the underworld before the spawns could overpower your people sent here to close it.

You dodged a claw to the left, to the right a massive club that struck near your feet and shook the earth, demon after demon, beasts roared as they rammed indiscriminately through the hoard.

Then, suddenly, you heard a silence to your left that made your blood run cold. Silence was never good on a battlefield.

This time was no exception, as directly to your left, you were suddenly beside a crater, everything that had been there, friend and foe, instantaneously turned to mist. At the center of it, a demon. His black armor shone pristinely, clean as if it were newly shined. Black wings spread wide, a double sided scythe poised to strike. Yet, you knew the crater beside you was his strike. And a weak one, based on how you knew this demon fought.

With him on the field, you knew it was better to get out of his way than try to fight. Within the second, you make up your mind.

Using your emergency retreat spell, you and all your still living companions were at once teleported far from the rift.

Some of your surviving allies turned to look around, horrified as they all realized what had happened. The rift would be closed, but the blood chilling knowledge of the demon who had come to the battle stuck with them.

Uriel, one of your closest allies and a friend of years, made eye contact with you, silent words passing between you. "It was him." Was all he said, kneeling with another of your companions to compress their gaping wound.

While your group tries to recover, you all feel the earth shake violently, and towards the direction of the rift, you all see a nearly blinding burst of flames reaching for the skies, only comparable to a volcanic eruption. A breeze pushes through the trees and grass, and you know the battle is over.

Nullus. The demon named after the way he leaves battle. With nothing left in his wake.

You only have a few moments to yourself before you feel a whisper of breath on the back of your neck, as you turn, his cocky yellow eyes are already burning into yours. "Hello, sunshine. I cleaned up rather quickly." He murmurs.

A smug grin is plastered on his face, his eyes never leaving you even as the horrified gasps and shouts to run sound behind you. "Doesn't that earn me a reward? I even left survivors for you."

He narrows his gaze. "Or do you not think I did a good job?" His voice is at once cold and controlled.

Nullus. The demon who leaves nothing left after battle. Except you. The one who owns his heart, whether you want to or not.