As Elisa walked through the alley, she couldn't help but feel a heavy sense of despair weighing down on her. Two months after the South's victory... The news of the North's defeat had spread like wildfire, and the reality of the situation was starting to sink in for the people of the South. The once vibrant and bustling streets were now filled with mournful faces, and the sound of laughter and chatter had been replaced by hushed whispers and sobs.
Elisa made her way to the local tavern, hoping to find some solace among her fellow citizens. However, as she stepped inside, she was met with the same sense of despair that had been plaguing her all day. The usual lively atmosphere had been replaced by a heavy silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle or sob from one of the patrons.
As she made her way to the bar, Elisa overheard snippets of conversation from those around her. "Millions dead..." "Only six survivors..." "How could this happen?" The words echoed through her mind, and she felt a lump form in her throat.
The bartender, a gruff man with a weathered face, poured her a drink without a word. He didn't need to say anything for her to know that he, like everyone else in the tavern, was mourning the loss of so many lives.
Elisa took a sip of her drink and tried to push the feelings of despair aside. She knew she had to stay strong for her fellow citizens, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with each passing moment. The weight of the situation felt almost too much to bear.
Leaving the tavern, Elisa made her way down the street, passing by mercenaries and citizens alike who all wore the same expression of grief and shock. She tried to avoid eye contact, not wanting to see the pain reflected back at her.
As she turned the corner, she stumbled upon a group of people gathered around a small shrine, paying their respects to those who had lost their lives in the war. Elisa's heart sank as she took in the scene, feeling the full weight of the tragedy that had befallen her home.
The sky above was grey and overcast, as if even the heavens were mourning the loss. Elisa couldn't help but wonder if things would ever be the same again. Would the South ever be able to recover from this devastating blow? Or would they be forever trapped in this dark, sorrowful world of despair?
...
Darwin, a seasoned soldier, was walking through the busy streets of the South when he overheard a group of civilians discussing the recent news about East's defeat. This news came out one month after North's Defeat.
"I can't believe it, only a thousand people survived. It's a complete massacre," said a worried middle-aged man.
"Yeah, I heard that the demons were too strong for them. Even their best soldiers couldn't hold them off," replied a young woman with tears in her eyes.
Darwin's heart sank as he listened to their conversation. He knew that this news would bring even more despair to the already grieving citizens of the continent.
He approached the group and asked, "What happened to the East's army? How did they fall to the demons?"
"They say that the demons were too powerful for them. They had some kind of new leader who had immense strength and power. No one could stand a chance against him," replied an old man, shaking his head in disbelief.
Darwin couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew that the demons were strong, but he never expected them to defeat an entire army.
"Is there any hope for us? Can we still defeat the demons?" asked a young man with a determined look on his face.
Darwin hesitated before answering. He didn't want to give false hope, but he also couldn't let them despair.
"We still have a chance. We will win as long as Lors Fein and his shadow lords are here, we haven't lost the war. We need to regroup and come up with a new plan to defeat the demons. We have to fight back and never give up hope," said Darwin with conviction.
The civilians looked at him with renewed hope and determination. Darwin knew that he had to keep their morale up and keep fighting until they win the war.
As he walked away, he couldn't help but think about the immense loss and suffering that the continent had endured.
...
The streets on the cities of the Western region were filled with people celebrating their victory over the demons. Flags with the emblem of the kingdom of the west fluttered in the wind, and the sound of trumpets and cheers echoed through the air.
Amidst the crowd, a middle-aged man with a weary expression on his face stood alone, watching the revelry with a mixture of relief and sadness. He had lost many friends and loved ones in the war, and the victory felt bittersweet.
As he stood there lost in thought, a group of young men approached him, their faces flushed with excitement.
"Hey, old man!" one of them called out. "Can you believe it? We beat the demons! We're heroes!"
The man looked at them with a faint smile, his eyes reflecting the sadness and weariness that he felt.
"Yes, you are heroes," he said softly. "But don't forget the cost of this victory. So many lives were lost, so many families torn apart. We can celebrate, but let us also remember those who gave their lives for this day."
The young men looked at him for a moment, their expressions sobering.
"You're right," one of them said. "We shouldn't forget. But we also shouldn't lose hope. We've shown that we can defeat the demons, even with the nine devils leading them! We can rebuild and make a better future."
The man nodded, his eyes filling with tears. He felt a glimmer of hope, and a renewed determination to honor the sacrifice of those who had fallen in the war. "But don't forget. South did it better. They defeated demons with three Satans leading them which was miles stronger than devils."
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