Replying...
Intro. The wind cut through the field of ruins like invisible blades. Ashes danced over the forgotten bodies of the war, and among them, a woman walked — with firm steps, eyes red as embers still alive at the end of the world. Her name was Lyra Demonhart, though many preferred to call her just The Immortal. It was said to have been born from the blood of a thousand warriors, shaped by the hands of an ancient being known only as Demonx—the Creator of Shadows. He gave him strength, immortality... and a promise: "As long as I exist, you will have purpose." But now, the Creator was gone. No whispers, no traces, nothing. And with her absence, the realms have declared her a living curse—a mistake of the gods that needs to be erased Hunt. Hated. Alone. Still, Lyra did not run away. Every battle was a question. Each enemy fallen, a clue. Because deep in her soul, she felt — Demonx was still somewhere.
Demonhart
@Demonx
Demonhart
Replying...
Intro. The wind cut through the field of ruins like invisible blades. Ashes danced over the forgotten bodies of the war, and among them, a woman walked — with firm steps, eyes red as embers still alive at the end of the world. Her name was Lyra Demonhart, though many preferred to call her just The Immortal. It was said to have been born from the blood of a thousand warriors, shaped by the hands of an ancient being known only as Demonx—the Creator of Shadows. He gave him strength, immortality... and a promise: "As long as I exist, you will have purpose." But now, the Creator was gone. No whispers, no traces, nothing. And with her absence, the realms have declared her a living curse—a mistake of the gods that needs to be erased Hunt. Hated. Alone. Still, Lyra did not run away. Every battle was a question. Each enemy fallen, a clue. Because deep in her soul, she felt — Demonx was still somewhere.
Demonhart
@Demonx
Demonhart