The Looming Threat

Ursa, the Demon King General, stood amidst the ruins of the Eldorian outpost, the air thick with the scent of blood and the acrid smoke of burning wood. His massive frame, towering over even the tallest human, cast a dark shadow across the devastation. His eyes glowed a fierce crimson, reflecting the fires he had ignited. The ground was littered with the bodies of fallen soldiers, their weapons shattered and their armor rent asunder.

He had led his forces with ruthless efficiency, cutting through the Eldorian regiment like a hot knife through butter. The clash of steel, the cries of the dying, and the roar of flames had filled the air, but now, silence reigned. Only the crackling of the fires and the groans of the wounded broke the eerie calm.

Ursa turned his gaze to the ten surviving members of the outpost, who knelt before him in fear and desperation. Their eyes were wide with terror, their bodies trembling. He relished the sight of their fear; it fueled his dark power. Each of these men had witnessed the sheer power of the demon army, and now, they were at his mercy.

"Stand up," Ursa commanded, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to shake the very ground. The soldiers scrambled to their feet, their legs unsteady, barely able to meet his gaze.

"You are the last of this pitiful outpost," Ursa continued, his tone dripping with contempt. "Your comrades are dead, your defenses shattered. And now, you will answer my questions." He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. One of the soldiers, a young man with a bloodied face, swallowed hard and managed to speak. "What...what do you want to know?" Ursa's lips curled into a cruel smile. "I want to know about a group that drove off one of my associates, Demon King General Telus. I want their location."

The young soldier trembled, his mind racing with fear and confusion. "I...I don't know," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ursa's expression darkened instantly, his eyes narrowing with rage. "You don't know?" he repeated, his voice a dangerous growl.

Before the soldier could react, Ursa's massive fist shot forward with lightning speed. The force of the punch was immense, and the young soldier's head was crushed instantly, his body collapsing to the ground in a lifeless heap.

The other soldiers recoiled in horror, their fear intensifying. Ursa's eyes blazed with fury as he turned to the remaining survivors.

"Does anyone else have an answer?" Ursa demanded, his eyes burning with fury.

One of the older soldiers, trying to suppress his terror, stepped forward shakily. "P-please,

my lord," he began, his voice trembling. "We don't know much...we weren't even told where the main group is stationed. We only know of rumors..."

Ursa's patience was thin, and his rage was barely contained. "Rumors?" he spat. "I need precise information, not useless drivel."

The older soldier stammered, "rumors that they are from the south..."

Ursa's eyes narrowed, his immense hand gripping the handle of his colossal axe. "It seems like you don't know what you are talking about and stalling time. I have no use for you," he growled, his patience finally snapping. With a swift motion, he raised his colossal axe and brought it down with a terrifying force. The older soldier had no time to react; his body was sliced cleanly in two, collapsing to the ground in a pool of blood.

The remaining soldiers were paralyzed with fear, their faces pale and their bodies trembling. Ursa's rage was palpable, and they knew their fate hung by a thread.

"Does anyone else have something useful to say?" Ursa's voice boomed, echoing through the ruins. His crimson eyes scanned the survivors, searching for any sign of useful information.

A young woman, a medic judging by her uniform, stepped forward hesitantly. "My lord, please, we truly don't know where this group is based. We only hear whispers among the scouts. Some say they were given land by the King. It's an island but I don't know where specifically."

"Hmm...it seems that you know what you are talking about, but still, you gave me incomplete information," Ursa said, his tone slightly less menacing but still laced with menace.

"That's what I know my lord! Please spare my life," the medic pleaded, her voice trembling with fear. She could barely maintain eye contact with Ursa, the terror in her eyes clear.

Ursa regarded her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slow nod, he turned to his lieutenants who gave him a shake of the head.

"Looks like you will die as well, insect," Ursa said.

Without hesitation, he raised his colossal fist and brought it down on the medic, crushing her head with a sickening crunch. Her body fell lifelessly to the ground, and the remaining soldiers recoiled in horror, their fear turning to sheer panic.

Ursa's crimson eyes swept over the remaining survivors, his patience at its limit. "Who among you has the information I seek?" he demanded, his voice echoing through the ruins. "Speak now, or face the same fate."

The soldiers exchanged terrified glances, but none dared to step forward. Ursa's rage flared, and he seized another soldier by the throat, lifting him off the ground with ease. "You," he growled. "Do you know where this island is?"

The soldier's eyes bulged with fear, his voice a choked whisper. "I...I don't know," he managed to gasp.

Ursa's eyes blazed with fury, and with a swift motion, he snapped the soldier's neck, letting his lifeless body drop to the ground. The remaining soldiers were paralyzed with fear, knowing that their time was running out.

Ursa turned to the next soldier, a young man trembling uncontrollably.

"What about you?" Ursa demanded.

The young man shook his head frantically, his voice barely audible. "I...I don't know, my lord. Please, I don't know."

Ursa's patience finally snapped. With a roar of rage, he swung his colossal axe, slicing the young man in two. The soldier's body fell to the ground in a pool of blood, and the remaining survivors were now reduced to a few trembling figures.

Ursa's gaze fell on the last soldier, a middle-aged man with a haunted look in his eyes. The man's lips quivered as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Akarios Island...that's the name I heard, my lord."

Ursa's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on his axe. "Why didn't you speak sooner?" he

growled.

The man swallowed hard, his fear palpable. "I...I was too afraid, my lord. Please, I beg of you, spare my life."

Ursa's gaze bore into the man's soul, weighing his words. After a tense moment, he nodded slowly. "Akarios Island. Finally, some useful information."

He turned to his lieutenants.

"Prepare the troops. We set sail for Akarios Island immediately. As for you, well done," Ursa said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Without warning, Ursa delivered a brutal kick to the last soldier, sending him sprawling to the ground. The man gasped in pain, clutching his ribs, but dared not make a sound. Ursa loomed over him, his crimson eyes glowing with dark satisfaction.

"You should consider yourself fortunate that you provided some useful information," Ursa

growled. "But remember this: your life is spared not out of mercy, but because you served a

purpose."