The story follows the Doom Slayer, a legendary warrior who has spent his life battling the forces of Hell.
After a final confrontation with Davoth, the creator of demons, the Doom Slayer delivers the fatal blow, ending Davoth's reign and trapping th...
The moment everything in the Slayer's life had led to-the death of the true creator, Davoth.
After a long and brutal battle, the Slayer delivered an earth-shattering punch, shattering Davoth's helmet.
Despite knowing he could never win, Davoth fought with unparalleled ferocity and strategy, but it was all in vain.
The Slayer was too powerful.
Accepting defeat, Davoth rasped, "Tell me, Slayer... have you nothing to say to your creator before you strike him down?" The Slayer took his helmet off and dropped it on the ground.
He looked at the fallen creator with no pity and no mercy.
The Slayer raised his fist, deployed the Doom Blade, and plunged it into Davoth's chest, twisting it for emphasis.
"No," he replied, delivering the ultimate defiance.
With Davoth's death, the demons were locked in Hell, unable to escape.
The Slayer had destroyed his own purpose, finally finding the end he had longed for.
Yet, just as he was ready to rest, a muffled, stressed voice interrupted. "Slayer, you cannot rest now. There is still more to do."
The sarcophagus rattled, shook, and then flew, eventually exploding into bits.
The Slayer opened his eyes to see three Makyr guardians.
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"Hello, Slayer," a disembodied voice spoke. "I need your help. There is a world I believe is in grave danger. I gave this world's inhabitants dragons, but I fear it will not be enough. That's why I've come to you, great Slayer-you are the only one who can help them."
Intrigued, the Slayer listened to the disembodied voice.
The voice revealed that the threat was dragon hunters, a menace that the Slayer hadn't encountered before.
Understanding the gravity of the situation, the Slayer prepared for another battle. "I am sending you there in advance so you can gain more knowledge of the world, therefore maximizing your effectiveness greatly. I wish you a good time, Slayer, and your age will be changed."
A blue portal appeared, and a guardian handed him his helmet.
Stepping through the portal, the Slayer woke up and looked at his hands to see that his body was now 18 years old, dressed only in boxers, his senses sharp and alert.
He scanned his surroundings, finding himself in a dimly lit cavern, the remnants of a brutal battle scattered around him.
His gaze fell upon a massive, majestic form lying nearby-a Night Sentinel Wintherin, one of the legendary war beasts of Argent D'Nur, lay unconscious, its white scales marred by wounds.
