Shadows of Reckoning

The moon hung low in the midnight sky, casting an eerie silver glow upon the desolate battlefield. Among the ruins of a forgotten city, a lone figure stood, leaning against a crumbling wall. His obsidian skin gleamed dully in the moonlight, marred only by a jagged wound that oozed rivulets of dark ichor. A triumphant smirk graced his sharp features, his icy eyes gleaming with a sinister satisfaction. The battle had been won, and the spoils were his.

Swish...

Around him, the air seemed to shift and darken. Countless shadows, formless and ominous, began to converge, swirling like vultures descending upon fresh carrion. They circled the wounded demon, their presence unsettling, their intent undeniable. Yet, his smirk only deepened, for he was no stranger to the dance of death.