Dragon's Wrath: The Cursed Returnee



The otherworldly agility and speed with which Ethan navigated the battlefield left Mary in awe. He effortlessly dodged the snapping jaws and slashing claws of the wargs, his body almost becoming a blur as he moved through their ranks. It was as if he possessed an innate understanding of their movements, anticipating their attacks with uncanny accuracy.

Ethan's keen eyes scanned the surroundings of the park, searching for any signs of the rift amidst the chaos of the wargs. His instincts guided him towards a particular area where he could sense a concentration of malevolent energy.

As he approached, the sight before him was daunting. Hundreds of wargs prowled around the rift, their fierce and primal instincts driving them to protect their source of power. Their snarls and bared fangs created an eerie symphony that reverberated through the air.

Undeterred by the overwhelming numbers, Ethan steeled himself for the upcoming battle. He understood that eliminating the wargs and closing the rift was essential to prevent further havoc and destruction.

Ethan's expression faltered as his gaze shifted towards the nearby school, its once vibrant halls now reduced to a scene of destruction. The sight of the lifeless bodies scattered around, ravaged by the relentless assault of the wargs, filled him with a profound sense of sorrow and rage.

He approached the remnants of the school, stepping cautiously amidst the debris and shattered windows. The sounds of his own footsteps seemed muffled in the heavy silence that enveloped the devastated surroundings.

Grim determination etched across his face, Ethan knelt beside one of the fallen, his hand reaching out in a futile attempt to bring solace to the life lost. The magnitude of the tragedy weighed heavily upon him, a stark reminder of the merciless havoc wreaked by the invading forces.

"... It is time to do some pest control," Ethan thought.

With a fierce determination in his eyes, Ethan unleashed the full extent of his skills and power. His sword danced through the air, a blur of deadly precision, as he swiftly and mercilessly cut down the wargs that stood in his path.

His movements were fluid and precise, each strike finding its mark with lethal efficiency. The clash of steel against fang and claw filled the air as Ethan engaged in a relentless battle against the horde of ferocious creatures.

With every swing of his sword, wargs fell to the ground, their bodies lifeless and defeated. The air crackled with the power of his strikes, the sound of steel meeting flesh echoing through the park. The wargs, once a fearsome force, now stood no chance against Ethan's relentless assault.

Despite the grim circumstances and the weight of the fallen on his shoulders, Ethan fought with a measured calmness, his focus unwavering. Each swing of his sword was calculated, every movement purposeful, as he brought an end to the threat before him.

As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling of a lingering presence. An unnerving sensation crawled up his spine as if he was being watched by unseen eyes.

He scanned his surroundings, his gaze sharp and alert, searching for any sign of the source of this ominous gaze. But the park remained silent and seemingly empty, save for the remnants of the fierce battle that had just taken place.

His senses heightened, and Ethan strained to detect any movement or sound that might betray the presence of the enigmatic watcher. But all he encountered was an eerie stillness, an unsettling calm that hung in the air.

Despite the absence of a tangible threat, Ethan's instincts told him to remain vigilant. He knew that danger could lurk in the most unexpected places, and he couldn't afford to let his guard down.

With a wary gaze, he surveyed the area one final time, his mind racing with possibilities. Was it an enemy lying in wait, ready to strike when he least expected it? Or perhaps a hidden ally, monitoring his actions from afar?

"Keep hiding, shitheads," Ethan said. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you all."

With a steely determination, Ethan acknowledged the presence of his unseen adversaries. He knew that his actions had drawn the attention of those who sought to disrupt his mission, and their watchful eyes served as a constant reminder of the imminent danger that surrounded him.

But Ethan was not one to be swayed by the lurking shadows. He understood that true strength was not found in hiding or skulking about, but in facing challenges head-on, without fear or hesitation. He had witnessed the destructive power of his enemies firsthand, their relentless pursuit of chaos and destruction. Yet, he remained resolute in his resolve to protect and defend.

He scoffed at the notion of cowards who preferred to hide in the shadows, observing from a safe distance. He knew that true bravery came from confronting one's fears and engaging in direct confrontation. The enemies that hid in the darkness would soon learn that their tactics of stealth and surveillance held no power over him.

With a swift and decisive motion, Ethan raised his sword high as the remaining wargs attempted to pass through the closing rift. As the dimensional gateway began to seal shut, their desperate attempts to escape their fate were met with Ethan's unforgiving blade.

In a blur of movement, he swung his sword with precision and purpose, severing the heads of the oncoming wargs. The closing rift acted as a guillotine, sealing their fate and bringing an end to their relentless onslaught.

The wargs' howls of anguish filled the air, cut short abruptly as their bodies fell lifeless to the ground. Ethan stood, his chest heaving with exertion, as the rift finally closed, leaving only silence in its wake.

With the rift sealed and the immediate threat vanquished, Ethan took a moment to catch his breath. He could still feel the weight of the unseen gaze upon him, a constant reminder that his enemies were ever watchful. But he refused to be deterred.