Herod lay on the ground coughing up blood. His lungs were shredded and his organs were beginning to melt from the leakage of stomach acid. While he was on the ground losing blood from a myriad of wounds, bodies of the slaughtered were strewn all over the floor dying it a shade of crimson. Clean cuts or breaks littered the bodies leaving some of them an impressive shade of purple.

He looked up into the night sky, but the fog covered up the moon making it impossible for him to see any hint of the moon in the night sky. The final battle began a couple of weeks after Herod went into the Forbidden Forest looking to best nature's strongest in close combat. Herod killed many different beasts in battle, but many underground businesses wanted Herod dead. He had ruined many underground battle arenas over the years looking for a battle. This unintentional act of sabotage had cost many businesses an arm and a leg. Naturally, they found a way to get him out of the picture.

While waiting for the embrace of nothingness or perhaps a new journey, Herod looked back on all the experiences that he had in his lifetime. He was born into a wealthy family as the eldest son. As the first born, his father wanted him to be adequately safe so he was taught self defense. However, that one introduction to self defense quickly led way to an obsession with martial arts which evolved further into a lust for battle. His lust for battle was further exacerbated by his want for freedom. Herod did not want to be responsible for the clan that he was supposed to lead. He hated the very idea of leading a clan and he quickly disappeared after learning as much as possible from his teachers.

The one who would then go on to pick up the mantle of the head of the family was his youngest sister. She was the only one willing to let go of her own freedom so that the clan might be led by a capable leader. All of his other siblings followed the example of the Rebellious Son and quickly dropped off the family radar after learning what they wanted.

Even though he felt a tinge of regret, it was worth it. Nothing could compare to the sweetness of freedom. Waking up everyday and knowing that responsibility was not going to be dropped on you was amazing. Then freedom became the shackles of life. What was once freedom quickly became the realities of life. What was once fighting for fun became underground matches in order to survive.

Some how, somewhere along that journey of life, Herod got bored of fighting just for the sake of living a miserable reality. Herod never considered suicide an option in life no matter how apathetic he became, but fighting was no longer making his blood pump and there was a distinct lack of weight behind a battle.

He once fought to show that he was not going to be the heir, that he was going to be himself. Now that he fought for his freedom, he did not know what to do. He felt lost and the only thing that he could still rely on was fighting, except the fight had to be worth more than just prolonging a miserable reality. Battles to the death were Herod's new lease in life for quite some time.

Then he grew bored again, not of death battles, but of the monotony behind them. He had fought beasts before, but they had been beat once and that dulled their primal and wild nature. So Herod walked into his grave, the Forbidden Forest, where beasts had been both blessed and cursed by nature. Blessed to be strong, but cursed to never leave the forest.