Rebuilding Terra

In such an extremely dark era, Michelle was like a dazzling dawn that broke through the darkness, suddenly descending on this land shrouded in darkness with endless hope and strength. His extremely determined figure was like a lighthouse that would never fall, constantly shuttling between the demons. Wherever he went, it seemed as if a warm and bright light was sprinkled, injecting new vitality into the nearly extinguished fire of hope of the demons. The light seemed to have magical power, dispelling the darkness and bringing warmth and courage. Michelle's face always had a gentle and determined expression, and he secretly thought in his heart: "I must let these demons regain hope and get rid of this terrible curse."

Once upon a time, the inedible food was like bitter poison, making the demons struggle in hunger and pain. However, under the quiet influence of Michelle's mysterious power, the food actually underwent a magical change. It was as if there was an invisible but extremely powerful magic working quietly, turning the originally bitter and rough food into delicious and sweet little by little. The demons stared with surprise and surprise, looking at the delicious food in their hands, their eyes flashing with surprise and gratitude. They showed an unbelievable expression on their faces, as if they had seen an incredible miracle.

Because they deeply knew that this was not just a simple change in food, but also a deep hope and encouragement given to them by Michel. The food seemed to contain Michel's care and blessings for them, allowing them to find the courage to live again in despair. Michel looked at the satisfied expressions of the demons, and felt relieved. He thought: "As long as I can make them feel a little warmth, my efforts will not be in vain."

In those days full of fear and despair, the shoulders of their companions seemed so weak and unreliable. Under the oppression of darkness, every demon seemed to be surrounded by loneliness and fear, and the trust between each other became shaky. However, Michel's appearance was like a timely rain, which changed everything. He used his firm actions and unshakable faith, like a tough rope, to unite the demons tightly together. His every move and every word was like warm sunshine, melting the ice in the hearts of the demons. With his efforts, the demons began to trust each other again and support each other.

Every demon tribe member deeply felt that the companions around them were no longer the weak and powerless beings they once were, but comrades who could be trusted with their backs and solid strength to move forward hand in hand in the darkness. Their shoulders became strong and solid, as if they could carry the weight of the whole world. Michel was filled with relief as he watched the demon tribe members unite again. He knew that only by unity could they overcome the difficulties before them.

When the exhausting fatigue came like a tide, the short rest became extraordinarily peaceful because of Michelle's presence. In the shelter carefully set up by Michelle, it seemed as if there was an invisible barrier that blocked the fear and danger from the outside world. The demons could temporarily put aside the heavy fear and fatigue in their hearts and immerse themselves in this moment of peace. Even if it was only a short moment of peace, for them, it was like a precious spring in the desert, slowly nourishing their long-dried hearts.

The tranquility was like a pair of gentle hands, gently caressing their tired souls, allowing them to find a harbor in the darkness where they could rest in peace. Michelle looked at the sleeping demons and prayed silently in her heart: "May you be able to recover your strength in this moment of peace and continue to fight."

The cross behind the young Michel, the sacred symbol of "forgiveness", radiates a holy and gentle light. The light is like a piece of light feather, gently floating in the air, as if silently telling the incomparably powerful power of tolerance and understanding. It is not just a simple symbol, but also a profound reflection of Michel's firm belief. He hopes that through his unremitting efforts, the demons can let go of the heavy hatred in their hearts and no longer be blinded by hatred.

He longed for the demons to join hands and face the seemingly insurmountable predicament together. The cross seemed to be a bridge connecting hearts, conveying the power of tolerance and understanding to the hearts of every demon, allowing them to find spiritual sustenance in the darkness. Michel stroked the cross and thought firmly in his heart: "No matter how difficult it is, I will let them understand the power of tolerance."

Gradually, Michel was deeply worshipped by the demons. His name was like a legendary story, passed down from mouth to mouth among the demons. Every demon was praising his heroic deeds and endless kindness. They promoted Michel as a god, a god who seemed to have descended from the sky and could save them from the water and fire. However, in Michel's own heart, he knew very clearly that he was not a high and mighty god. He was just a guardian with firm beliefs, a beautiful vision for the future of the demons in his heart, and was willing to work tirelessly for the future of the demons.

He was willing to use his strength and wisdom to open up a path to light for the demons. Michel felt helpless when he heard the demons' words of admiration for him. He thought, "I am just doing what I should do. The real victory still requires everyone's joint efforts."

During these long and difficult years, the dark clouds of the Dark Crusade loomed like a heavy black cloud. It was a final battle for the survival of the demons, a thrilling final battle with the dark forces. This battle seemed to be a crossroads of fate, determining the future direction of the demons. Michel stood resolutely at the forefront of the demons, his eyes were firm and blazing, like two burning flames. In his eyes, there was no fear or retreat, only endless courage and determination.

Behind him were countless demon warriors full of expectation and trust. They followed closely behind Michelle, and everyone's eyes were filled with a desire for victory and a firm belief in the future. They were like a closely united whole, ready to face the baptism of this life-and-death battle. Michelle took a deep breath and swore in his heart: "This battle must be won for the future of the demon race."

As the passionate battle horn sounded like thunder, the Dark Crusade finally broke out in this tense atmosphere. Michel led the group of demons, like a surging and unstoppable torrent, and rushed towards Ozma's pretender demon group. Their figures were like arrows from a bow, with an indomitable momentum. Michel's face was full of determination, he knew that this was a battle that could not be lost.

On the battlefield, the shouts and cries of killing were like thunder that shook the whole world. Light and darkness intertwined on this land, as if the horror of the end of the world had descended upon the world. The pretenders surged in like a tide, their hideous and terrifying faces and their incomparable strength were terrifying.

However, the demons did not retreat at all. Under Michelle's firm leadership, they bravely moved forward and launched a fierce fight with the enemy. Each demon seemed to have transformed into a fearless warrior, defending their homeland and dignity with their own strength and courage. Michelle waved his weapon with only one thought in his mind: "We must stop these enemies."

After several fierce battles, Michelle felt an indescribable doubt in his heart. He had fought with Ozma several times, but each attack seemed to fall on deaf ears and could not cause any fatal damage to Ozma. The other monsters simply thought that Ozma was too powerful to be defeated. But only Michelle knew that the truth was not that simple. He frowned and thought to himself: "What is going on? Why don't my attacks work?"

After several more fierce duels, neither side was able to kill the other. In that brief and intense encounter, Michelle felt more clearly the mysterious power emanating from Ozma, which was of the same origin as himself. This feeling shocked him, and the mystery in his heart became more and more intense. It was as if a mysterious veil blocked his sight of exploring the truth. Michelle's eyes widened, and his heart was filled with shock: "What exactly does this power of the same origin mean? Is there a special connection between us?"

After the fierce battle, Michel couldn't fall asleep for a long time. He lay in bed, his thoughts like flying snowflakes, disorganized but constantly intertwined. His mind kept recalling every detail of the battle with Ozma, the familiar power fluctuations, the inexplicable attacks that canceled each other out. Every scene was like a sharp thorn, deeply piercing his heart, making him fall into deep thought. He kept asking himself: "What is the truth behind all this? I must find out."