Rebuilding Terra

The demon king dragged his slightly tired body back to his magnificent and gorgeous palace. The palace was like a mysterious fortress standing in the clouds, towering tall. The exquisite reliefs on the walls seemed to be telling ancient stories, and the mysterious runes were like dancing elves, exuding a mysterious and solemn atmosphere. The demon king lay quietly on the spacious, soft and comfortable king's bed. He should have fallen into a sweet dream in exhaustion, but the ballad was like a naughty elf, constantly jumping and echoing in his mind, making him unable to fall asleep.

The night fell quietly, the moonlight was like water, and the soft and cold moonlight was like a layer of light gauze, gently sprinkled on the magnificent palace of the demon king. Under the moonlight, the outline of the palace appeared more distinct, as if it was endowed with a layer of mysterious halo, exuding a unique atmosphere that was both mysterious and solemn. However, the demon king could not sleep at night. He lay quietly on the spacious king's bed, staring straight at the ceiling. The ceiling seemed to hide countless unknown secrets and complicated thoughts, like a mysterious scroll, waiting for the demon king to interpret.

The demon king's mind was like a movie, with the figures of Kazan and Ozma constantly appearing. Kazan, the tall, burly, and majestic warrior. He was wearing armor that was full of traces of battle but more glorious. The armor flashed a cold light under the caress of the moonlight, as if telling of the past glory and honor. He held tightly in his hand the battle axe that had made great achievements in the battle. The runes on the battle axe seemed to be dancing flames, emitting powerful power. Ozma, wearing a robe that shone with mysterious light, the runes on the robe seemed to be smart stars, flashing mysterious power. His eyes were full of deep wisdom and endless power, as if he could see through everything in the world. The figures of the two of them intertwined and overlapped in the demon king's mind, making his heart begin to tangle.

"Will they really betray me? We have been through so many ups and downs together, and they have made great contributions to this territory. But that ballad... is it really just a coincidence?" The demon king was full of doubts. These doubts were like vines growing quietly in the darkness, slowly and silently entwining his heart, making him feel a little suffocated. He began to weigh the pros and cons in his heart. On the one hand, he deeply recognized and trusted Kazan and Ozma's past achievements. They fought bravely in countless battles and made indelible contributions to the peace and stability of the territory. On the other hand, he was deeply afraid of the ballad that seemed to carry a prophetic nature. The fear was like an invisible big hand, tightly grasping the demon king's heart, making him a little breathless.

"If they really betray me, what will happen to my territory and my subjects? I can't take this risk. Even if there is only a slight possibility, I must destroy him." The demon king was struggling in pain, and fear surged into his heart like a surging tide. He seemed to see the terrible scene of the territory burning in the flames of war and the subjects struggling in pain. He was afraid of losing the territory he had worked so hard to build for many years, and afraid that his rule would be ruthlessly overthrown. Every thought, every idea, was like a heavy stone, pressing hard on his heart, making him feel extremely depressed and almost unable to breathe.

After a fierce inner struggle like a storm, the struggle was like a surging wave, constantly impacting his heart and almost drowning him. The demon king finally made an extremely difficult decision. He knew that he could not let the potential threat grow silently and quietly like a seed in the dark, otherwise the consequences would be disastrous. So, the next morning, when the first ray of warm and hopeful sunlight just sprinkled on the golden roof of the palace, bringing a glimmer of new vitality and hope to the entire palace, the demon king summoned Ozma.

When Ozma received the summons from the demon king, he suddenly felt a little doubtful. The doubt was like a faint cloud, instantly covering his heart. He was wearing a robe that shone with mysterious light. The runes on the robe seemed to be beating gently, exuding a mysterious and powerful power, as if telling an ancient secret. He hurried to the palace, with a hint of urgency and uneasiness in his steps. The urgency was like a burning flame, urging him to rush to the demon king as soon as possible; the uneasiness was like a beating note, playing a nervous melody in his heart. The moment he stepped into the palace, he immediately felt a tense atmosphere in the palace. The atmosphere was like an invisible pressure, like a heavy boulder, pressing hard on his heart, making his heart tighten slightly, as if an invisible hand was tightly holding his heart, making him have some difficulty breathing.

The demon king sat steadily on the majestic throne, which exuded a sacred and inviolable aura, as if announcing to the world the demon king's supremacy. His eyes were as cold as ice, and they seemed to be able to penetrate everything. He looked straight at Ozma, as if he wanted to see through his heart. He slowly said, "Ozma, I have an important task for you. I have received some disturbing news. There has been a rebellion in Kazan's territory. I need you to go to Kazan's territory and bring him back."

When Ozma heard the words of the demon king, he was shocked. The shock was like a surging wave, hitting his heart so hard that he could hardly stand. He widened his eyes, full of disbelief, as if telling of his inner surprise and confusion. He said with a trembling voice: "Demon king, are you mistaken? How could Kazan betray? I don't believe he would do such a thing. We have been through so much together, he would never betray." His voice was full of firmness and trust, as if declaring to the demon king that his trust in Kazan was as solid as a rock.

The demon king frowned slightly, and the wrinkles seemed like deep marks carved by the years, and also seemed to be the true reflection of the entanglement in his heart. His voice was low and powerful, echoing in the air like thunder, and every word seemed to carry heavy power: "I don't want to believe it either, but now there is solid evidence that something is wrong with his territory. I need you to find out the truth and bring him back. I believe you have the ability, and I believe you will complete this task." There was a hint of expectation and a hint of unquestionable majesty in his voice.

Ozma's heart was full of contradictions and struggles. The contradictions were like two powerful forces pulling each other, making him feel torn and almost unable to make a decision. He and Kazan were brothers who shared life and death. They had experienced countless life and death tests together and faced countless powerful enemies together. In those life-and-death moments, they supported and trusted each other, like an inseparable whole. He did not believe that Kazan would betray him. The friendship between them was as strong as steel and could withstand any test of wind and rain. However, the order of the demon king was like a heavy shackle, tightly wrapped around him, putting him in a dilemma. In the end, he gritted his teeth, and it seemed that there were two voices arguing fiercely in his heart. One voice told him to believe in Kazan, and the other reminded him that the order of the demon king could not be disobeyed. But he decided to obey the order of the demon king first. After all, the demon king was the ruler of this territory, and his order had an irresistible force.

Ozma left the palace and set out on a journey to Kazan's territory. Along the way, his mood was heavy and complicated, as if a huge boulder was pressing on his heart, making him a little breathless. He kept recalling the bits and pieces he had spent with Kazan, and the days of fighting side by side were constantly replaying in his mind like a movie. Together they faced powerful enemies, hovering on the edge of life and death, and every battle seemed like a thrilling adventure. Those moments of mutual support and those scenes of common struggle were like precious gems, embedded in the depths of his memory, making him unforgettable. He couldn't imagine that Kazan would betray him, but he had to face reality, the orders of the demon king and the so-called evidence. His steps were heavy and firm, and every step seemed to carry endless thoughts and struggles, as if writing the entanglement and contradictions in his heart.

As Ozma continued to move forward, the scenery on both sides of the road unfolded and changed like a scroll. The mountains in the distance towered into the clouds, and the clouds and mists lingered between the peaks, as if they were covered with a mysterious veil. The streams in the mountains gurgled, and the clear streams sparkled with silver light under the sunshine, as if they were bright gems sprinkled by nature. The trees on the side of the road were lush and green, and the branches and leaves swayed gently in the breeze, as if telling Ozma the story of this land.

However, Ozma had no intention of appreciating these beautiful views. He was only concerned about Kazan and the pursuit of the truth. He kept thinking, what exactly caused the demon king to think that Kazan's territory had rebelled? What was the so-called evidence? He had to figure it all out and clear Kazan's name.

Finally, Ozma arrived at Kazan's territory. The scene before him made him feel nervous. The territory was filled with a tense and strange atmosphere. The soldiers were on high alert, as if ready for a war at any time. Ozma took a deep breath and strode into the territory.