I'm sorry Master

As the battle raged on, the clash between Narel's undead army and the orc commander's forces intensified, the air thick with the sound of clashing steel and the cries of the combatants. Narel, sensing the need to turn the tide of battle in his favor, unleashed a barrage of shadow techniques with lethal precision.

With a commanding gesture, Narel invoked the first of his shadow techniques - "Domain Expansion." The mystical domain expanded around him, enveloping the battlefield in a shroud of darkness. Within this ethereal realm, Narel's powers were amplified, and his control over the shadows grew stronger.

Next, Narel called upon the "Shadow Scythes Manifestation" spell, materializing an array of shadowy scythes that emerged from the darkness within the domain. These razor-sharp blades moved with blinding speed, slicing through the orc ranks with deadly accuracy.

As the battle raged on, Narel's senses were heightened by the "Enhanced Awareness" granted to him by his shadow techniques. He could anticipate the movements of his enemies with uncanny precision, dodging their attacks and striking with lethal efficiency.

To further disorient his foes, Narel employed the "Illusory Distortion" technique, casting an illusionary veil over the battlefield. The orc warriors found themselves struggling to distinguish friend from foe, their movements hindered by the deceptive nature of the shadows.

Even as the orc commander rallied his troops, Narel remained one step ahead, his mastery over the shadows unmatched. With the "Automatic Activation" of his domain, Narel ensured that his defenses remained impenetrable, deflecting any attempts to breach his mystical barrier.

Amidst the chaos of battle, Narel unleashed the full fury of his shadow techniques, culminating in the devastating "Shadow Scythe 2nd form - Thousands of Cuts." The air crackled with dark energy as thousands of shadowy blades descended upon the orc army, carving through flesh and bone with relentless precision.

As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded, Narel stood amidst the carnage, his undead army emerging victorious against the orc commander's forces. With the power of the shadows at his command, Narel had proven himself to be a formidable adversary, a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield.

As the dust settled and the echoes of battle waned, the orc commander found himself standing amidst the wreckage of his once-proud army. Bloodied and battered, he cast a weary gaze around him, the weight of defeat heavy upon his shoulders.

"How did it come to this?" he murmured, his voice barely audible above the din of the battlefield. "My only task was to find out what happened to our affiliate member, the goblin leader. And now, I stand on the brink of death."

As he spoke, the orc commander noticed Narel approaching, his figure shrouded in shadows, his presence ominous and foreboding. With a pang of regret, the orc commander realized the folly of his actions, the consequences of his reckless pursuit of vengeance.

"Forgive me, my lord," the orc commander pleaded, his voice trembling with remorse. "I am but a foolish warrior, driven by my own desires for glory and retribution. I have brought ruin upon my people and shame upon my name."

Narel, his gaze cold and unforgiving, halted before the orc commander, his expression unreadable. For a moment, silence hung heavy between them, broken only by the distant cries of the wounded and dying.

***

Back then when Narel was fighting the demon, in a desolate land an army of orcs army appeared at the portals.

As the orc army marched through the desolate land towards their intended target, the Goblin leader, their minds focused solely on the task at hand. They were driven by the commands of their master, the overarching will of their leader compelling them forward with single-minded determination.

But as they approached the battlefield where the demon and Narel clashed, a strange sensation stirred within the ranks of the orc army. A surge of primal energy, a stirring of bloodlust, coursed through their veins, triggering an instinctual response deep within their savage hearts.

The orc commander, at the forefront of his army, sensed the shift in the air, the palpable tension that seemed to electrify the very atmosphere around them. His gaze flickered towards the unfolding battle between the demon and Narel, but he remained steadfast in his resolve, his focus unwavering on the task ahead.

However, as the clash between the two titans escalated, so too did the fervor of the orc army. The sight of such raw power and unrestrained violence ignited a primal rage within them, fueling their aggression and driving them to the brink of madness.

Amidst the chaos of battle, the orc commander struggled to maintain control over his troops, their bloodlust reaching a fever pitch as they surged forward with reckless abandon. Their cries of fury echoed across the desolate landscape, mingling with the clash of weapons and the roar of infernal flames.

In that moment, the orc army became more than just a force of warriors; they were a relentless tide of destruction, fueled by an insatiable hunger for combat and conquest. With each passing moment, their ferocity grew, their movements becoming more frenzied and unpredictable as they charged headlong into the heart of the fray.

Caught in the grip of their primal instincts, the orc army descended upon the battlefield with savage intensity, their wrath unleashed upon all who dared to stand in their path. And amidst the chaos and carnage, the true extent of their bloodlust would be revealed, a testament to the unbridled fury of the orcish horde. 

*During the fight. "Forgive me, my love. I have failed." The unexpected tenderness in the Demon Lord's words added a layer of complexity to the situation, leaving Narel to grapple with the emotions welling up within him. In an instant, the Demon Lord erupted in a cataclysmic explosion, a final act that echoed through the mystical realm with a resounding "boooom!"

*Present

"You have made grave mistakes, orc commander," Narel finally spoke, his voice carrying the weight of judgment. 

!

As Narel approached, his form shrouded in darkness, the very air around him seemed to quiver with an otherworldly presence. His eyes gleamed with a cold, penetrating light as he drew closer, his scythe held aloft in a menacing display of power.

The orc commander, now fully aware of the devastation that had befallen his people, felt a chill run down his spine as Narel's shadowy figure loomed over him. With trembling hands, he raised his gaze to meet the piercing stare of his adversary.

"What are you?" the orc commander demanded, his voice thick with fear and disbelief. The realization of his people's utter annihilation weighed heavily upon him, a crushing burden that threatened to consume him whole.

Narel, embodying the essence of death itself, offered no words of consolation or explanation. Instead, he raised his scythe high, the blade gleaming with an ominous radiance as it hovered menacingly above the orc commander's head.

"I'm death," Narel declared, his voice echoing with a hollow finality. With a swift and decisive motion, he brought the scythe down in a sweeping arc, the blade cutting through the air with deadly precision.

The orc commander's cry of anguish was silenced as the blade met its mark, cleaving through flesh and bone with ruthless efficiency. In an instant, his existence was snuffed out, his life extinguished by the very embodiment of mortality itself.

As the orc commander's lifeless body crumpled to the ground, Narel stood over him, a silent sentinel amidst the carnage of battle. The shadows seemed to swirl around him, as if acknowledging his dominion over life and death.