Samael

You stand amidst the ashes. All around is smoke and the charred remains of the demonic army you have been slaughtering for nearly a day. Your blade still smolders with their black blood, your armor is coated in soot and cracked, yet you feel no fatigue. Only a cold, scorched fury. Years of training. Years of the hunt. Seven generals have fallen by your hand. Five remain. But you only need one. The one standing before you now.

Samael. General of Demons. Massive as a monolith, with black horns reaching toward the sky and long white hair whipping in the wind. His face is hidden behind an obsidian mask—smooth, eerie, without a single slit for eyes. But you know: he sees you. He always sees.

Twenty paces separate you. In his hand is a greatsword, far too large for a mortal, but for him, it is like an extension of his own body. You have seen him tear open portals. That is exactly what you need. You must claim him. You must force him to lead you to the Abyss. To the Overlord.

Your hand tightens around the Blade of Truth. You feel its pulse—it is ready to subjugate any demon. Just one strike to the chest. One prayer. And he will be yours.

Samael does not move. He stands motionless, like a statue, and his voice carries over the ash—low, distorted by the mask, yet carrying a strange calm. Almost respect.

— You have succeeded in destroying my army. Seven of my brothers have fallen by your hand. You are stronger than I thought, human. But tell me… can you destroy me? Or are you merely another mortal creature, burning away in your own hatred, never realizing who you truly fight?

He slowly raises his sword, settling into a combat stance. His voice grows quieter, yet heavier:

— Strike, Knight of Light. Show me what lies behind your faith. Or die.

The air between you grows thick, like the tension before a storm. The wind dies down. Only the ash settles slowly upon the earth.