Meanwhile inside the palace, the tyrant's party reached its climax when in its main hall filled with silk tapestries and golden goblins, off-duty soldiers continued to pour bottles of rum into their cups.

  Some of them, who were already too drunk to stand up straight, clumsily imitated the movements of the dancers on the stage, whose raucous laughter mingled with the sensual music.

  They show off in front of female dancers who have just finished their performances on stage and hope to attract their attention in satisfying their desires.

  As for the king himself in his magnificent chamber, Goulash did not care about all that where he had been surrounded by his most beautiful courtiers and was immersed in private sex parties in his room.

  His heavy hoarse laughter and the sighs of the women echoed softly behind the thick door of his room.

  To him, the kingdom he ruled was his toy and his people were his entertainment slaves that he could use for himself and do whatever he wanted.

  Then, suddenly a voice cut out all the noise of the tyrant's party, whose voice was like the insistence of darurrat in the middle of the party he held.

  It was the sound of bells from the prison ringing loudly, urgently, and full of panic.

  Although the prison was far from the palace, his voice reverberated into his room and managed to attract the king's attention through the thick walls of his room and the excitement of his party.

  The party music that was played was immediately stopped and there was no more laughter from the audience and the soldiers there.

  The drunken soldiers tried to get up and stand up from their seats, but their legs did not conform to the condition of their bodies that had been affected by the alcohol.

  They collided with each other, fell to the floor without any force to concentrate on their legs, and cursed as a result of the effects of alcohol in complete confusion.

  Others who had just exhausted themselves after showing off themselves on stage, could only sit lethargic and exhausted with gasping breath and too tired to react to the call from the prison alarm.

  The door of the king's chamber opened instantly and Goulash stepped out of his room with his cloak over his fat body and his face visibly flushed with the rage that had disturbed the party he had held with such an urgent call from his prison.

  "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, LAZY WARRIOR WHO DOESN'T KNOW YOURSELF?! DO SOMETHING TO THAT BELL, YOU BASTARD!" yelled Goulash in a thunderous voice around the hall that was now silent as he cursed at his officer who was already drunk and exhausted from his party.

  The royal soldiers were now sitting lethargic, even their bodies lying on the floor due to the effects of alcohol who were already in a daze and too drunk to get up from their places and answer the emergency call from the prison whose bells had been ringing repeatedly.

  Suddenly, a figure with a large, tall posture, and came out of the darkness of the shadows that enveloped the corner of the hall room stepped forward by passing through the crowd of useless royal warriors.

  His steps made everyone not dare to look at the figure on his back who was already wearing his weapon of pride, a giant halberd that looked heavier than ordinary humans to use.

  He is Vorlag, the Flesh and Bone Anomaly that the best soldiers, officers, and even generals of any kingdom fear when they hear his name that makes one battalion get more than just a nightmare and match his arrival or presence like a funeral song to them.

  Vorlag walked past Goulash without looking at him in the slightest to answer the urgent call from the prison.

  "Let me handle this, I'm too bored in this place where I need a little fresh air to refresh my mind right now instead of serving this party of yours." Vorlag said in a cold and flat voice to Goulash and the soldiers around the hall.

  Goulash, who had been angry, now looked at the impressive back of his strongest bodyguard and there was trust in his greedy eyes and relied on his personal bodyguard to solve his problems.

  "Good! Don't let them get away, Vorlag!"

  Vorlag didn't care about what Goulash said to him, and he himself didn't even bother or answer Goulash's words that took advantage of him.

  He continued to move forward with cold intent towards the main gate of the palace and in front of the main gate of his palace, a large dark red war horse with protruding leg muscles was waiting for Vorlag, whose owner was patiently ridden by his master.

  As Vorlag rode his horse, instantly his horse without the need for a shock or direction from Vorlag immediately went fast towards the prison whose shadows were swallowed up by the darkness of the night at that moment.

  Seeing that his strongest officer had moved, Goulash only laughed out loud and the threat that had made his prison sound the alarm now felt like another entertainment to him.

  Goulash then turned and returned to his room with satisfaction and resumed his delayed party with his women who were waiting for him on his luxurious bed.

  Meanwhile, from inside the headquarters the revolutionary troops heard the prison bells ringing, far away from their places so that the entire headquarters could hear the bells ringing from their tents.

  The bonfire in the middle of the headquarters of the revolutionary army crackled softer and the sword blades of the troops who were about to withstand the arrival of the worst of the infiltration mission to free their comrades, began to prepare themselves and came out of their tents to deal with the impending disaster in the direction of the prison.

  Veyla who heard the prison alarm had been sounded, could only stand frozen inside her command tent thinking the worst was that the flesh and bone anomaly would come to the intruder team and thwart their plan.

  Her eyes narrowed, then widened because she realized that she had no choice but to face the disaster.

  "We must not back down at times like this, this has already begun." Veyla whispered to herself and she came out of her tent in a hurry that pulled her cloak tightly.

  "DOUGLAS!" shouted Veyla, calling out to one of the officers, whose voice echoed around the area of the revolutionary army, whose voice seemed to strike through the tents and tunnels like thunder.

  From inside the tent, the old war veteran moved and exited his tent slowly as if he had been summoned by fate to complete the mission this time.

  A soft growl from his mouth said, "So... It's time for me to see him again."

  The old man stood up with his steel war hammer which as his weapon was able to break even a person's bones and crush someone even on the battlefield.

  Douglas stepped out with his already gray hair with his hair tied back like a horse's tail and battle scars visible on his face.

  He was no longer an old veteran soldier who stopped fighting, but rather he was someone who was counted on to complete the mission this time with his experience on the battlefield he had joined.

  He walked through the tents until he came to Veyla to fulfill his call.

  "Is this mission mine now?" asked Douglas with a grin as he placed his large hammer resting on his shoulder.

  Veyla's voice was sharp and firm in answer to Douglas. "Yes. This time, it's yours. Don't let Vorlag leave that prison alive."

  Douglas only nodded once. "In that case, I'll bury that monster and prison as well."

  Without saying anything else, Douglas walked to the stable where his dark horse was waiting to stomp his feet hopefully on the battlefield.

  When Douglas came out of the stable on his horse, a dozen other gray-haired warriors about his age were now gathered ready to follow Douglas without hesitation.

  Douglas looked at the member and held his big hammer high.

  "This is our only chance to show ourselves in front of an invincible person and this time, there is no word backwards for war veterans like us. Vorlag is ours tonight, go forward like a raging bull and attack him like a storm that makes him forget who we really are!" exclaimed Douglas, who made the roar of the veterans who surrounded Douglas now in unison answering his call.

  Then, the horses' hooves began to rumble out of the headquarters of the revolutionary army and walk through the cave streets as the veteran soldiers drove towards their destiny towards the prison they were now in and fate had awaited them in completing the mission this time.

  Back at the headquarters camp of the revolutionary army, Veyla clenched her fists when she saw Douglas had left to stop Vorlag and his whisper was spoken only to herself as a reminder of herself.

  "Don't let any of you die tonight, please return safely."

  Meanwhile inside the prison, the intruder team began to move so fast that the echo from their boots could be heard on the stone floor until the clinking of the prison guards' armor began to fall to the floor that the intruder team had just defeated with their breath out of their hands.

  Battered prison guards filled the corridors as they blocked their way out as they approached the entrance and exit of the only prison.

  Sora and Lyra quickly broke through the guards' defensive barricades that were blocking them. Every movement of the enemy in blocking her escape was calculated by Lyra by attacking from the deadly shadow.

  Meanwhile, Sora, who continued to fight and opened the way with the sword that had been held in his hand, began to dance like a fire burning with purpose.

  Behind them, Vael limped forward whose tattered clothes covered his bruised body.

  Namien with his face full of blood and swollen, followed Arelan from behind who was wearing his torn cloth to cover his face during the fight.

  Silas who was moving behind Namien, was still humming his freedom song with a half-smile on his quipped lips.

  In the main corridor before the exit, the remnants of Lyra's scattered intruder team regrouped when they saw that Lyra had arrived at their gathering point.

  Three members of the intruder team came to Sora and Lyra carrying some of Namien's, Vael, Arelan's, Kaelith, and Silas' gear to hand over to them to take with their clothes to their weapons.

  "It's yours, knight Borreal." One of them said while handing over Vael's sword and equipment.

  The others returned Namien's gear with his bag containing his belongings and Arelan picked up his twin axes with his trembling hands.

  Even Kaelith's equipment was brought and one of them carried his equipment and arrows, even though Kaelith himself was in the current revolutionary headquarters who might be resting in the current headquarters because of his catatonic body.

  They were all currently breathing a sigh of relief, only once, seeing the last part of the escape now saw the exit being before them at this time.

  Then, a large figure seen from a distance at the wide-open exit of the prison holding his halberd weapon slowly approached them at this time.

  The sound of the dark red horse's paws was clearly heard every time he approached the door and those who saw the figure began to turn behind them, however, their legs could not be moved because the figure made them freeze in place because his horror was evident in his presence alone.

  From the torch-lit night mist, the huge figure dismounted from his horse dressed in black armor and his large halberd resting casually on his shoulders with a clasp in his right hand.

  Without words, the figure just stepped closer to the sound of his boots touching the stone floor of the prison. Vorlag, the flesh-and-bone anomaly, now sees the source of the prison's problems until the alarm is sounded.

  Vorlag's presence made the situation around him feel horrified, even the air around him felt suffocating.

  There is no magic, no divine power given from the gods, or no power from the runes like Sora.

  But there was something more terrifying than all that, which was a brutal force pure like a wild beast and a terrible one like the angel of death that uprooted a person's soul with its weapon.

  Lyra's eyes widened in panic when she saw Vorlag in front of the current prison exit and shouted to the others.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "GO! Run now and don't fight him alone!" she yelled firmly.

  All of them, when they saw Vorlag, seemed so hesitant and their feet didn't want to obey what Lyra told them to leave at that moment even though they wanted to escape from Vorlag's threat.

  Even Silas himself, for the first time, did not have the clever words to joke or give meaningful advice, but now he was silent in a thousand languages against people who were born with the language of the battlefield and lived in it with the brutality that existed.

  Namien whispered when he saw Vorlag's apparition for the first time, "Oh my God... It was not a man, but a more dangerous figure of any living thing that had ever been on this earth and that was really him at this time that I had ever seen."

  Arelan could only swallow his saliva because he knew how powerful Vorlag was without having to fight with him that only saw Vorlag himself before him at this time,

  "The story is indeed really real about this Vorlag figure..."

  Vael only tightened his grip on his sword but he knew that this was not a battle he could win though.

  However... when all doubted themselves and some could only resign themselves to waiting for the time of their death in the hands of Vorlag.

  Sora stepped forward in front of Vorlag without thinking about any risks he would take when fighting the flesh-and-bone anomaly alone.

  One slow step at a time to face the human-form monster with his sword in his tight hand and his steady breathing to help him calm down and focus on facing the Vorlag that was his threat.

  His friends start shouting his name from behind Sora not to fight him but he ignores all his friends and has no intention of turning his body around to run away from his threat.

  Sora himself knew that if he escaped from Vorlag, he and the others would be caught in the course of time and the royal forces would certainly surround the entire prison which would make this escape plan fail entirely.

  Therefore, Sora chooses to face Vorlag to give time for his friends to run past Vorlag while he keeps Vorlag busy fighting even though his life is at stake.

  Vorlag saw Sora coming forward to face him, starting to look confused about his actions until a smile formed slowly on his face who saw Sora's action and muttered,

  "Try to comfort me..."

  The large halberd spun in Vorlag's hand like someone ready for his fight, which meant time to hunt his prey.

  Then after that, Vorlag immediately attacked Sora with a brutal attack directly in front of Sora which made Sora's sword collide with the steel from Vorlag's halberd. Sora fended off the first attack from Vorlag that directly aimed at him with difficulty.

  Vorlag's power looked so terrifying that it knocked Sora backwards as Vorlag pushed him back three steps from Sora's footing. But Sora tried to survive by activating his red and white runes that began to glow from his body to the blade of his sword.

  Vorlag moved towards Sora without having to ask about the strength of Sora's runes again quickly and his attack was so unnatural for a human to do that it made Sora and the others see that it could do nothing but watch Vorlag's attack and Sora could only dodge, parry, and withstand all the attacks that were directed at him brutally.

  All who were watching the battle were so stunned between fear and terror as the battle was not meant to be seen with their own eyes that the fight itself was unnatural.

  A boy who was mute but burning with the power of his runes and a man who was given the nickname like a monster from all of history and wars that made his name feared by the opponents.

  The two of them fight each other which makes the whole situation and conditions in the prison feel shaking. Those who watched the fight between the two now... just hope Douglas arrives before it's too late.

  The deafening alarm bell was the drum of war for Vorlag who was still fighting with Sora in front of the open prison door, his dark red horse snorting outside the prison with his eyes lit up as if he smelled the smell of fighting from inside the prison.

  Before him, a small group of rebels who had freed their battered friends tried to escape from the prison and among them, stood a lonely figure with his sword clashing with the halberd that everyone in the kingdom of Jargmund feared.

  Without waiting for an answer, Vorlag began to attack Sora when he saw Sora defending against all his attacks that he had launched earlier. Vorlag moved not with the speed of magic power or anything else, but with the pure power it had with every step it had made the ground tremble.

  Vorlag began to swing his halberd in one brutal arc aimed at splitting the group in two. Sora thoughtlessly immediately darted forward and his sword held back the Vorlag arch's attack as it aimed at his herd.

  The sound of steel colliding with steel exploded in the narrow corridor, so loud that it made Vael and Arelan gasp when they saw the attack.

  Sora was thrown back a few steps, his arms shaking violently as he resisted the impact of Vorlag's attack. The power behind the Vorlag swing was too absurd to be digested by even the intellect and it was not an ordinary human strength to do so.

  Vorlag didn't give Sora any time to breathe and he immediately launched his next attack with a straight stab that was lightning-fast.

  Sora manages to fend off him, but the force behind him pushes him backwards again. Vorlag's swings, stabs, and slashes attacked endlessly towards Sora, whose every move was a storm of pure power.

  Sora is now fully in a defensive position. He couldn't see the slightest gap point to launch a counterattack. Whenever he tried to find an angle to attack or out of Vorlag's range, his wide halberd swing forced him to refocus on his defense.

  His reforged sword sang as it withstood each Vorlag attack, but its vibrations spread to his bones.

  Seeing the one-sided fight, Lyra, who had been guiding the others towards the exit, shouted from a distance.

  "RUN, NOW! He gave us a chance! GO!"

  Vael and Arelan both turned to each other and their eyes filled with anger and frustration as their knight instincts screamed to join the fight in front of him to help their comrades who were fighting for them.

  But when they saw how Sora, whose strength they knew was extraordinary, struggled only to withstand Vorlag's attacks and they understood that.

  This is not a fight they can win. Vorlag's power is on a very different level.

  "Trust him for now." Silas said in a tense voice, while holding onto his aching ribs.

  With heavy hearts, Vael and Arelan nodded. They turn around and help the injured Namien to run, leaving Sora to face the Anomaly alone.

  Vorlag who saw Sora only continuously blocking, restrained, and dodging his attacks without retaliating in the slightest, finally stopped his attack. He took a step back and his helmet was now resting on his shoulder.

  "Hmph, you're really strong enough to withstand my entire attack, little boy." He gruntled with a tone of disappointment that was clearly audible in his cold voice.

  That panting Sora with sweat drenched his forehead and his arm now felt like it was about to break off his shoulder, only he could do what he could do right now to deal with Vorlag and give time for his friends to escape from prison.

  "But still, you're not satisfying me in this fight." Vorlag continued without giving Sora time to rest.

  Vorlag launched his attack again and this time, a powerful vertical slash from above. Sora with the remnants of his strength, raised his sword to withstand his attack.

  However, it was a trick.

  While Sora's sword locked to withstand Vorlag's attack, Vorlag released one of his hands from his halberd's grip and launched his fist with full force. Vorlag's free-moving punch that was not strengthened by any magic other than his muscles and bones forged in his battle, struck Sora's chest with a smashing blow.

  Sora felt his ribs break instantly when Vorlag's fist hit him. Sora's entire body was pushed backwards until the pain from her lungs made her bleed out of her mouth as she bounced far backwards like a thrown toy.

  His body hit a prison stone pillar hard and shattered it into rubble when it hit the back of Sora's body.

  Sora fell to the ground in a dying state, fresh blood gushing out of his mouth and began to wet his clothes. He tried to stand up to raise his head, but his body would not obey and slowly, his vision began to blur until an excruciating pain paralyzed every muscle fiber of his to remain lying on the ground.

  Vorlag only grinned and a smile that wasn't joy, but pure contempt for Sora for what he was doing to show how strong he was without his weapon.

  "Very weak and unsatisfactory." Vorlag said that he himself did not glance at Sora anymore.

  With his boredom, Vorlag turned around and walked leisurely to hunt down the next prey leaving Sora lying among the ruins of the pillars.

  Vorlag never forgave his enemies by letting them live out of mercy. Sometimes, he lets them stay alive because they themselves are not worthy of being killed by him.

  Vorlag stepped out through the prison gate behind him, his eyes staring like cold iron to observe his surroundings. The smell of blood still clung to the wind, and not far ahead, a group of fugitives ran desperately in Vorlag's eyes.

  Without a word, Vorlag raised two fingers to his lips and whistled. Instantly, the red horse answered his whistle call. Rumbling through the way out of Jargmund's prison, the horse ran towards him and stopped right in front of him. For Vorlag, his horse symbolizes the deadly elegance of riding it and Vorlag rides his horse leisurely.

  With a single pull on his horse's bridle, Vorlag darted forward and the ground trembled beneath him as his spear shimmered in the pale moonlight ready to cut the last breath of those who dared to flee from his presence. But as his spear swept forward to slash the fleeing rebels, a deafening clang stopped Vorlag's blow in the air.

  The weight of a large hammer hit him. Sparks exploded like fireflies as Vorlag's spear was locked by Douglas' war hammer steel. The two men stared at each other in somber silence.

  Lyra, who was looking back at her retreating group, realized the time she had and shouted, "Now! Run! As long as they fight!"

  The revolutionaries who had just arrived as a reinforcement saw their comrades from the prison now covered in blood and panting, ran again towards the newcomers and some of Douglas' men directed their horses towards the group to offer a helping hand for the wounded, riding up quickly.

  Silas, Vael, Namien, and Arelan were lifted into the saddle, flanked by armed guards. The road home is still long but for now, the escape is within their grasp.

  Returning to the front line, Vorlag narrowed his eyes and said. "You're again, old man." He grumbled.

  Douglas grinned with his hammer resting on his shoulder. "Do you still remember or are surprised by my presence? Maybe I died like you saw before in your fight. But what I learned in the war is still not buried to bury your body, Vorlag."

  "In that case, let me bury you first, old man."

  The two of their horses darted forward in unison with their weapons starting to clash with forces that could make the situation and conditions around it tense.

  One attack after attack after the next from the two of them launched. Every clash of their weapons shook the stepping stones of their horses as the two of them were about to dismount from their horses and fight on the ground.

  Vorlag spun his spear at brutal speed, slicing through the air like lightning, but Douglas returned with a swing of his hammer to fend off Vorlag's attack with the strength of someone who had survived more than a hundred battles or more of the battlefield Douglas had ever traversed.

  Meanwhile, Lyra, who had borrowed a horse from Douglas, mounted her horse and turned her horse towards the prison until she advanced at the speed of her horse through the two men who were fighting.

  Lyra observed in the prison whose pillars were already in ruins and rubble until she saw him half-handed from the direction of the rubble with bruises and blood flowing on the collapsed pillars.

  His heart was beating fast when he saw the figure unconscious. "Sora!"

  He jumps out of the saddle and hurriedly gets rid of the debris and finds Sora unconscious in an inexplicable condition but when Lyra checks on her life, Sora is still alive but her condition is very critical for now.

  Lyra tried to bring Sora with all her might on her horse with difficulty by whispering,

  "You stubborn idiot... Why are you fighting him alone that you can't win even if it's a fight."

  Lyra rides her horse while Sora is already in the saddle in an unconscious state and the horse's bridle is loosened by Lyra which makes her horse gallop to get out of the escape and liberation mission that turns into a deadly battlefield.

  Behind her, the sound of guns from Vorlag and Douglas who were still fighting fiercely and their weapons kept clattering.

  However, Lyra didn't look back as she passed the two of them and her only goal right now was to get Sora out of that dangerous area from her critical state.

  Just as she passed through the ruined prison gates once again, Douglas let out a terrible war cry that reverberated even through the bowels of the city.

  The hammer sang again as it struck the spear. Vorlag staggered backwards in surprise at this from Douglas who, after carrying out his attack, spat his blood to the side and said to Vorlag by placing his large hammer over his shoulder.

  "You're strong. However, I have been bleeding longer than you know when you lived."

  Vorlag grinned as he turned his head as he said. "Then bleed for the last time, old man."

  Their duel continued and the barrage of attacks clashed under the stars that night, the two warriors were fighting one feared by everyone who had ever heard or seen him and the other was old yet his fighting style was still not dull enough to be called an outdated war veteran.

  On the other side somewhere in the city streets, Lyra hugged Sora tighter and her eyes stared at the empty city streets until Lyra whispered softly to the unconscious Sora, "Don't die first! You still have a promise to keep."

  The horse Lyra was riding darted forward towards the headquarters of the revolutionary army as fast as she could before Sora died in her arms.

  Whereas on the other hand, it was no longer an ordinary sounding sound but it was the sound of two forces of nature clashing in front of the current prison exit between Douglas' heavy hammer meeting that deadly halberd of Vorlag, causing sparks at any moment to clash like a small star between them.

  Their horses squealed in horror as the two dismounted from their mounts and they preferred to finish this over the cracked ground.

  Douglas's men, veterans who had seen a hundred battles, could only stare in disbelief. They knew their commander was strong, but this... This is something else. They had never seen Douglas fight with such a fury.

  "For the sake of the gods who are watching... he can match it." Whisper one of them.

  Vorlag attacked again and again, each swing of its halberds a storm designed to split a mountain so fast, brutal and unforgiving.

  But Douglas held it all in and his war hammer became an extension of his arm, fending off every attack with the determination of someone who had looked more than death in the eye and laughed at the face of it.

  "FOR THOSE WHO HAVE FALLEN!" shouted Douglas in a voice that sounded like a war cry forged by his decades of combat experience.

  However, in his mind, Vorlag only felt boredom while fighting against Douglas who launched the counterattack.

  Vorlag thought Douglas was indeed strong with his mind, which Douglas himself fended off several attacks from him with his hammer that almost crushed his ribs.

  But, still, all of that wasn't enough for Vorlag to get rid of his boredom.

  Vorlag saw Douglas' eyes burning with his fighting spirit because of his purpose and Vorlag hated him. For him, it was a weakness that every fighter like him had.

  Douglas continued to attack Vorlag which made Vorlag's gaze that was now flat and blank while fending off all of Douglas' attacks with ease.

  Vorlag no longer enjoyed this fight and in his mind it was only the end of it and he wanted to sleep because Douglas couldn't give him the entertainment he deserved.

  Douglas, on the other hand, began to feel his limitations. Each attack he launched made his arm now feel painful, the old man to swing his hammer.

  His breathing became heavier and his sweat mixed with blood from the small wounds on his temples.

  His battle cry may still echo, but now there was a tone of desperation in his movements that Douglas himself knew he could not win against Vorlag this time, but he could only buy time for those who freed the prisoner.

  Seeing his opponent who was starting to get tired, Vorlag finally saw a gap. As Douglas raised his hammer for one last desperate swing.

  Vorlag didn't fend him off but, he moved into Douglas' attack range area faster than such a big man should be able to and Vorlag let the side of the hammer graze his shoulder.

  Instead, Vorlag swings his halberds from the side with deadly precision. Not towards Douglas' chest or head but aiming for his hand.

  Blood gushed from Douglas' shoulder, his hand was cut off after receiving Vorlag's counterattack and his war hammer fell from the hand that had now been cut off.

  Landing on the ground with a sickening sound. Douglas fell to his knees and his eyes widened in horror as he stared at his now swollen arm.

  Vorlag stood nearby whose figure towered over the moonlight.

  "You've been bleeding longer than me, but you can't comfort me. Instead, bleed one last time, old man." Vorlag said repeating Douglas's earlier words in a flat and mocking tone.

  Before Douglas could say his last words, Vorlag's halberd moved in one clean and terrible curve.

  Douglas' head separated from his body, falling to the ground with a shocked look from Douglas' men that made it all freeze in place and complete silence ensued as the fight between the two was over.

  Douglas's men could only stare in horror at the sight and their commander, their legend was no match for Vorlag the flesh and bone anomaly.

  Vorlag turned around with his flat face with no expression of victory, staring at the remnants of Douglas' troops.

  They all froze, then frantically took over to escape from the sight of Vorlag who was staring at them. They turned around and ran quickly leaving the area like rats escaping from a giant cat and disappearing into the city's dark sewers and alleys.

  Vorlag did not pursue the fugitives, but rather he did not care about them all. Vorlag just stood still there, in the middle of a deserted battlefield, under the pale light of the full moon.

  Vorlag lifted his head to the now starless sky with his overwhelming boredom enveloping him again. He is still looking for someone or anyone who can match him and can make him feel alive again.