The Damned Demon

"I told you... Trying to change your fate is futile," came the deep, calm voice, rumbling authoritatively from above.

Raziel slowly lifted his eyes, only to be met with the colossal, glowing crimson eyes of Drakaris, partially obscured by the swirling mist, gazing down at him with an enigmatic presence. But now this presence seemed as cruel as ever.

Regaining his composure, Raziel stood up, his fists clenched in a mixture of anger and resentment, "No... you must have done something to corner us again... to make me fail," he accused, his voice laced with a mix of defiance and desperation.

"I have no reason to nor will I interfere, as I told you," Drakaris responded, his tone unwavering and matter-of-fact, as if stating an indisputable truth while not taking offense at his accusation.

"Then how... how did those monsters attack us earlier than they were supposed to? They shouldn't have been there," Raziel demanded, his teeth gritted in frustration, pain, and confusion.

The images of his mother getting brutally killed, Matron Selene's lifeless head dangling in Tarok's hand, and his people getting slaughtered without mercy kept replaying in his mind.

"You are focusing on the wrong things. They aren't going to help you survive this. No matter what you do to save them, you will keep reliving this until I find what I am looking for," Drakaris declared, imparting a sense of inescapable destiny and challenge to Raziel.

"You also have to remember that each time you reset, your people will remember their past deaths in their final moments but not before," Drakaris added.

Raziel's heart dropped as he asked with his eyes trembling, "W-What…are you saying that they remember everything like me right before they die? Why?! Why are you torturing them too?" Raziel felt his heart clench upon the thought of his mother and everyone remembering their painful deaths.

It only made their fate seem even more cruel.

"It's not up to me. As long as you do something that makes me feel you are worthy, you can stop this. Otherwise, each time you go back, you are putting them through it again. It is in your interest to realize what the right thing to do is," Drakaris firmly instructed, leaving no room for any leeway.

Raziel now realized why it seemed as if his mother had something to say in her last moments. She must have remembered how she died the first time.

His nails clawed the rocky surface as he wondered how traumatizing and painful it must have been for her. And yet she called out to him, and he could guess what she was going to say.

"I want to give up…Just kill me...I would rather join them in the Seven Hells..." He weakly mumbled, as he would not rather make them go through such painful scenarios again and again each time he fucks up nor can he endure it forever.

Even if it could mean he won't be able to have the chance to save them he felt he had no right to make them suffer again and again at his expense.

"You can't. You have no choice, as I warned you. I am going to send you back now," Drakaris indifferently stated.

"NO! Wait!" Raziel cried out, but before he knew it, the darkness once again began to envelop him.

This time, however, he was armed with a promise to himself to try harder, to save everyone, no matter what it took since he was already trapped in this.

But little did he know that this nightmare had only begun for him.

Before he knew it, he again ended up kneeling on the same cold, rocky surface with the eyes of Drakaris looming above him.

His face was uncontrollably shaking as his eyes were still brimming with the images of his loved ones dying before him.

This time, he planned everything better, but the Bloodclaw Clan still ended up attacking them, and everyone died, the event happening in a different way but with the same outcome.

He saw them all getting burned alive before his eyes. He could still feel the heat scorching his heart, trying to burn it to ashes.

"Don't!!" Raziel cried out as he felt the darkness envelop him again. He couldn't bear to see them all die before his eyes while letting them remember everything in the end.

But this went on and on, and in a heart-wrenching series of events, Raziel found himself trapped in a relentless cycle of despair and loss.

Drakaris was indifferent to his pleas, curses, and everything he threw at him. He even stopped talking to him, making him fear how many times he would be forced to go through this.

Still, Raziel never gave up whenever he got reset, determined to give it all to save them since he was already going through it.

Time after time, he valiantly strived to alter the fate of his people, but each attempt ended in tragedy, the outcome eternally unchanging: the merciless slaughter of his tribe at the hands of the Bloodclaw Clan.

All he could do was change how it happened but never how it ended. It seemed as if the entire world was working against him, wanting these monsters to always win and make him fail.

That was how he felt.

With each reset, Raziel experimented with different strategies, desperately seeking a way to avert the inevitable.

He tried leading his people down various escape routes, each path painstakingly planned, only to watch them being ambushed and mercilessly cut down.

The screams and pleas of his kin echoed in his ears, a haunting chorus that underscored the futility of his efforts.

In some instances, driven by desperation and a burning need to protect his loved ones, Raziel took it upon himself to confront the werewolves alone.

His heart raced with pure resentment and hatred as he charged into battle, only to be easily overwhelmed by just the weakest among them.

A mere Soul Eater like him never stood a chance, and yet he didn't care at this point.

But beaten and broken, he was dragged back by them to witness the unspeakable horror of his village being razed to the ground, his people butchered and burned before his very eyes.

The repeated massacres took a heavy toll on Raziel's spirit. With each iteration, his heart grew heavier, weighed down by a profound sense of helplessness and grief.

The faces of his mother, Matron Selene, and the rest of his tribe haunted him every time he got reset, their eyes, in their last moments, reflecting pain of countless deaths and unspoken questions.

The inescapable reality of his situation dawned on him with crushing clarity: no matter what he did, the werewolves would always find them, their bloodlust unquenched, their cruelty boundless.

The inevitability of their doom seemed etched into the very fabric of his cursed existence.

His soul was tormented by the endless cycle of death and despair, each failed attempt chipping away at his resolve.

The agony of watching his people die repeatedly was indescribable, a living hell that imprisoned him in its merciless grasp.

The cruel irony of his situation was not lost on him: in his quest to save his people, he had become the eternal witness to their destruction, a cruel fate that threatened to break him completely.

Exhausted and overwhelmed by the relentless cycle of tragedy, Raziel found himself once again on the cold, unforgiving surface of the mountain.

With a surge of anger and desperation, he summoned all his mana, directing it towards the colossal form of Drakaris in a defiant act of hatred and despair, "This is no test! This is a curse!" he shouted, his voice echoing with pain and frustration.

But his attempt was futile; the mana orb magically rebounded with equal force, striking Raziel and sending him sprawling to the ground with a painful grunt. He lay there, winded and defeated, his body aching from the impact.

Above him, Drakaris spoke, his voice resonating with an indifferent calm that contrasted sharply with Raziel's turmoil, "Your anger is only going to hurt you more. Only you can help yourself stop this. All you have to do is do the right thing."

"The right thing... The right thing...You keep saying that as if I know what to do..." Raziel mumbled weakly in frustration, struggling to rise. At this point, he gave up trying to change his fate and even wondered if Drakaris was playing a cruel joke on him.

His face was pale, a stark reflection of the countless memories of sorrow and pain that clouded his eyes. He felt like a shell of his former self, drained of energy and hope. He was finding hard to remember the happy memories he shared with his people.

All he could think of was their expressions of agony and horror before their deaths. He forgot what it was like to feel happy. All he could feel was this bottomless darkness devouring him from within.

The same darkness began to envelop him once more, but suddenly, a realization dawned on him.

Throughout this harrowing ordeal, he had only relied on his own strength and that of his people.

It never occurred to him to seek external aid. A plan started to form in his mind – the Umbralfiends, a powerful race residing on the large island to the north, could be his salvation.

They were so feared that the werewolves never dared to enter their lands and had always avoided that huge island.

The Kraken, their guardian, was a legendary beast, though not anywhere as strong as Drakaris. However, he had heard the terrifying might of the Kraken, who was said to be the guardian of the seas.

It was no surprise that not only the werewolves but no other soul in this world would dare cross the mighty Umbralfiends.

If he could just reach them, perhaps they would lend their formidable strength to his cause.

He had never met them, but as far as he knew, they weren't a hostile race like the werewolves and never tried to invade other lands unless somebody provoked them.

Maybe they might lend him a hand.

This newfound understanding sparked a flicker of hope in Raziel's heart.

With a renewed sense of purpose, he prepared himself for the next reset.