The Resurrection Of The Demon Lord

The Forest of Death wasn't silent — not tonight.

The air was thick with tension, the towering trees shrouded in fog and shadows. This round of the tournament was infamous: no rules, no spectators, and one objective — survive. Yet deep within the forest's twisted paths, Squad Z moved with silent purpose.

They weren't hunting a target. They were escaping.

Zalthor led the way, his eyes sharp and unwavering. "We stick to the eastern ridge. The perimeter breach should still be cloaked."

Zyra moved close behind, whispering, "No one noticed we left?"

"We timed it perfectly. The skirmish we caused near the northern edge drew enough eyes," Lucien said, keeping his voice low.

Elowyn, glancing behind, exhaled. "Then let's hope it stays that way."

Trailing at the back was a new face — Kairo. Unfamiliar with the rest of them, but powerful and trusted enough to join this off-the-books operation.

Until they stumbled upon it.

Through the veil of fog, they spotted scorched earth, clawed trenches in the dirt, and three bodies strewn across the clearing — unconscious, some barely breathing.

At the center stood a lone figure. His jacket was torn, blood dripping from his mouth, and lightning hissed softly from his cracked blade. His eyes, cold and half-lidded, locked on the four shapes emerging from the mist.

"…The hell?" Lucien muttered. "That's—Nizara?"

Zyra stepped forward, flames dancing in her palms. "What's he doing here?! He was supposed to be locked down, under constant watch!"

"He must've slipped out," Zalthor said grimly. "Or someone looked the other way."

Elowyn's voice shook, but she kept her composure. "He's badly hurt."

Kairo's steps slowed. "Who is that?"

Zalthor didn't answer right away. "Our teammate."

Kairo's eyes narrowed. "Why's he out here alone? Right in the direction we're heading?"

Lucien shot him a look. "Watch your tone."

"I'm saying it's suspicious. What if he's tracking us?" Kairo's voice was cold, calculating.

Then — he moved.

A surge of energy — fast, dark, and merciless.

Nizara, though injured, reacted instantly. His storm-scarred boots dug into the ground as he raised his blade, blocking the incoming strike just in time.

Clang!

Sparks flew.

The impact forced Nizara back a few steps. He didn't fall — he didn't flinch.

His cold eyes met Kairo's. "You got a death wish, or are you just that stupid?"

Kairo's brow twitched. "You were watching us. I don't take chances."

"You think I care about you sneaking around?" Nizara growled. "You think I even know who you are?!"

Another clash.

Despite his injuries, Nizara struck back with unrelenting force, his blade laced with raw Storm Aether. Each blow crackled with deadly intensity — wild, reckless, and sharp as thunder. His body trembled, but his resolve didn't.

"You're injured. Stand down!" Kairo snapped.

"I don't stand down," Nizara spat. "Not here. Not now. You want a fight, I'll give you one."

Their blades locked again — tension, fury, and raw misunderstanding.

Then—

"Enough!"

A wave of darkness exploded between them as Zalthor appeared, pushing both back with tendrils of Shadow Aether.

Kairo stumbled, his eyes wide. "What—?"

"He's Squad Z," Zalthor snarled. "You just tried to kill one of ours."

Zyra stormed up beside him. "Seriously?! Did you not think for one second before swinging?"

Lucien pointed toward Nizara. "That guy you just attacked? He's been in more missions than you've had meals with us."

Elowyn ran forward, already kneeling beside Nizara. Her hands began to glow with soft Aqua Aether as she placed them against his bleeding side. "You okay? Gods… your ribs…"

Nizara didn't look at her. His eyes were locked on Kairo. "Who is this guy?"

"He's new," Zalthor muttered. "And clearly paranoid."

Kairo scowled. "I didn't know. He came out of nowhere."

"Then ask next time," Lucien hissed. "Before someone ends up dead."

"I could've killed him," Kairo snapped.

Nizara stood slowly with Elowyn's support. "You couldn't even if I was dying. And trust me… I almost am."

Zyra folded her arms. "He's got a point."

Nizara's gaze flicked between the squad. "Why are you all sneaking around out here? This isn't part of the tournament map."

Zalthor stepped forward. "Because something's wrong. We've seen signs — tampered corpses, vanishing contestants, Aether disturbances too precise to be random."

"We're going to find out what's behind it," Lucien added. "We didn't bring you because you were being watched 24/7."

"Well, I broke out," Nizara said bluntly. "Caught wind of a solo hunter squad picking off weakened competitors. I decided to make an example."

Zyra smirked. "Of course you did."

Elowyn continued healing him. "You shouldn't have fought alone."

"I'm still breathing," Nizara replied, ice in his tone. "And now I know something's off too. So I'm coming with you."

"No argument here," Zalthor said. "We need you."

Kairo hesitated, then stepped back silently, glancing away.

Nizara didn't let up. "You're lucky I'm tired. Next time, don't swing first."

"…Duly noted," Kairo muttered.

The fog began to close behind them again.

Zalthor turned toward the dark path ahead. "Let's move. Whatever's watching us… it won't wait."

Together, Squad Z — now whole — disappeared into the forest's heart.

And in the unseen treetops above, something blinked.

And smiled.