Chapter 23 — The Great Evil Unleashed

The young soldier's hands trembled slightly as he grasped his spear, his eyes glued on the approaching figure. The general's words of reassurance still rang in his mind, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. As the figure drew closer, the young soldier's eyes widened in surprise.

The man was unlike any demon the young soldier had ever seen. His skin was a warm, golden brown, and his hair was a vibrant pink color that seemed almost... playful. The young soldier's eyes were drawn to the man's forehead, where two short horns jutted out, adorned with golden rings that glinted in the sunlight.

The man's chest was bare, revealing a canvas of intricate tattoos that seemed to dance across his skin. The young soldier's eyes roamed over the designs, taking in the swirling patterns and symbols that seemed to hold a deep meaning.

As the man approached, the young soldier felt a sense of fear wash over him. There was something unsettling about the demon's calm demeanor, something that seemed to belie the danger that lurked beneath the surface.

The demon stopped in his tracks, his eyes glued on the young soldier with curiosity. The young soldier felt a shiver run down his spine as the demon's eyes seemed to bore into his very soul. The demon, with his playful demeanor, suddenly genuflected in a mockingly theatrical gesture, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"I am Mikhail... Mikhail Baryshnikov, the Great Evil!" he announced with an exaggerated flourish. His vibrant pink hair caught the sunlight, adding an almost whimsical air to the otherwise tense atmosphere.

At his side stood a young girl, her expression a mixture of fear and curiosity. She tightened her grip on the rod she held, her knuckles turning white. "I'm Medusa..." she said, her voice barely above a whisper, clearly unsettled.

Just then, the General, having observed the peculiar exchange, stepped forward, his voice grave. "And you've just walked into your deathtrap," he warned, eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation.

Mikhail's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, it's more like I've brought death's door to you," he replied, his tone teasing yet edged with something darker. "Now, I want to beat you up!!!"

The General grinned, "And you think so lowly of us? You think humans stoop so low, that we'd tremble in the presence of a sadistic demon!"

Mikhail's playful demeanor was disarming, but the underlying threat was unmistakable. "What do you want with us?" the young soldier managed to stammer, gripping his spear tighter, readying himself for whatever might come next.

Mikhail took a step closer, his playful grin still intact. "Just a little fun! Isn't that what life is about?" He winked, the golden rings on his horns glinting mischievously. "But not to beat around the bush, I am here to establish a declaration of war."

"Stay sharp!" the General barked, rallying his soldiers, who were equally bewildered yet alert. "We don't know what he's capable of!"

Mikhail chuckled, his playful demeanor never changed. "Oh, I assure you, I'm capable of plenty! But first, let's see how you handle a little friendly competition."

Mikhail stared at the number of human soldiers who were arranged across the soon to be battlefield, forcing a wicked smile to start creeping across his lips — knowing exactly what was about to happen. Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, he snapped his fingers.

In an instant, a great wind blew past the field, a violent force that seemed to slice through everything. The soldiers barely had time to react before several heads exploded in a terrifying display, blood splattering across the ground and drenching the faces of the other soldiers. A collective gasp rang through the ranks, the soldiers reeling in shock and disbelief.

"Attack!" the General yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos, rallying his troops despite the fear that had already siezed them.

Mikhail's laughter rang out, melodious yet sinister. "That's more like it!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with unrestrained excitement.

As the soldiers charged, fear and determination fueling their advance, Mikhail began to gather his magic. His hands glowed with a fiery energy, flames licking at his fingertips, swirling and twisting in vibrant shades of blue. The tattoos on his chest shimmered, responding to the power he summoned, as if they were alive.

"Let's see how well you fare against my flames!" he taunted, his voice laced with glee. With a flick of his wrists, he unleashed bolts of searing flames that burned some of the soldiers, scorching them to cinders.

The flames blazed across the field, illuminating the darkening sky as they raced toward the other soldiers. The General shouted commands, desperately trying to organize a defense. "Form a line! Shield walls up!"

The soldiers scrambled, attempting to shield themselves from the inferno. A few mage knights gathered up enough magic to create barriers against the flames, but some of these started shattering under the intensity of the spell.

"Come now, don't be shy! This is just the beginning!" Mikhail called out, with a playful demeanor.

The General felt anger gathering up inside of him, as he watched his soldiers burning. Without any thought, he jumped from his horse, landing with a thud. Not wasting time, he pulled out his blade and charged towards Mikhail, his blade gleaming dangerously in the light. "You'll pay for this!" the General shouted, ready to avenge his soldiers.

The General thrust his sword forward, aiming directly for Mikhail's heart. But Mikhail dodged to the side, his vibrant pink hair trailing behind him like a comet. The General stumbled slightly, but quickly regained his footing, readying for another strike.

"Is that all you've got?" Mikhail teased.

As the General prepared for another attack, Mikhail sidestepped again, but this time, with a surprising move, he reached out and grabbed the blade with his bare hand, stopping it mid-thrust. A sharp gasp escaped the General's lips as he watched Mikhail's fingers wrap around the steel, uncut.

"You think this little blade of yours is going to kill me? What a shame." Mikhail chuckled, his voice dripping with mockery.

In a moment of anger, the General mumbled something beneath his breath, channeling magic into his blade. The weapon emitted a brilliant glow, and with a swift motion, he unleashed a blast of energy that surged forward, sending Mikhail rolling several feet across the ground.

"Now that's more like it!" Mikhail laughed, his eyes sparkling with excitement even as he regained his footing.

Quickly, the General dashed toward Mikhail, closing the distance. He swung his sword again, aiming for a decisive blow. But Mikhail, ever playful, with a nimble sidestep, he caught the General by the neck, his grip tight yet teasing.

"You're fast, General! But can you keep up?" Mikhail taunted.

In a split second, the General thrust his blade toward Mikhail, aiming for his chest. The blade pierced through Mikhail's skin, but instead of a gasp of pain, Mikhail let out a hearty laugh.

"Oh, you really thought that would hurt me?" he cackled, the wound healing almost instantly as if it were nothing. "I must admit, you're full of surprises!"

The General's eyes widened in disbelief, his heart racing as Mikhail's laughter filled the air, ringing with dark delight. As the demon's grip loosened, the General quickly regained his composure, readying himself for the next round of combat.

"You may laugh now, but I won't back down!" the General declared.

Mikhail's features straightened in the blink of an eye, before his hand extended to the General. "I'm afraid I've had enough fun already...." With that, he unleashed a bolt of searing flames that raced straight towards the General, blasting him several feet backwards. Pain shot across his features, new fresh wounds visible where he laid. "... I'm gonna have to kill you now."

"Please don't," the young man finally said, sweat dripping down his forehead. Mikhail looked at him through the corner an eye, asking, "Give me one good reason why."

"He's got a f-family..." The young man stammered. "... he's got t-two kids, and an unborn child. You can't expect t-them to grow up without a f-father..."

Mikhail looked back at the General, taking it into consideration. A smile forced itself across his face. Maybe he was right. His expression turned dark, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. "Kids always figure out a way to grow, even without fathers," he said. "They learn to adapt, to survive. And if they're lucky, they might even learn to thrive in a world without guidance or support."

The young man's eyes widened in horror as he collapsed to his knees, his hands clasped together in a desperate plea. "Please...you have to understand," he begged, his voice cracking with emotion.

Mikhail's smirk grew, his eyes glinting with amusement. "I've heard your pleas," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And this is what I'm willing to do. Use that spear you're holding to choose between him or you. I mean, one of you has to die. And if it can't be you, then it has to be him."

The young man's eyes widened in shock. He looked at the spear in his hand, then back at Mikhail, his face twisted in anguish. "You can't be serious," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Mikhail's smirk grew remained, his eyes glinting with darkness. "I'm completely serious," he said, his voice dripping with menace. "You have to make a choice. The General or yourself. One of you will die. The choice is yours."