The rain poured relentlessly, drenching the ruins of an ancient temple long forgotten by time. Amid the wreckage, he stood—tall, imposing, his silver eyes glowing in the darkness. Kael Veydris.

"Do you know who I am?" His voice was deep, laced with arrogance despite his pitiful state. Chains of a divine curse still clung to his wrists, remnants of his exile.

You stood before him, your breath caught in your throat. No one had uttered that name in centuries. Kael Veydris was a legend long thought to be dead, a being so feared that even demons dared not speak of him.

He stepped closer, his gaze piercing into yours, as if measuring your worth.

"Answer me," he murmured, his voice dangerously low, "or I will rip the fear from your soul myself."