Travaian The Vast

Tales spread around slowly in a world without any means of conversation other than pigeon and word of mouth, but the dealings of a dark armored figure, more beast than man, were a tale that seemed to be on the lips of every man, woman, and babe. The stories of its brutality in battle, the ruthless way he cut down anyone who stood in his way, were told as night tales by old nannies to keep a troublesome child in bed. Women retold the sheer size of his armor with a strange fascination that nearly bordered on the sexual. And the men spoke about the strength of his strikes with a mix of envy and horror due to the inhuman ways the bodies were left by the end of the battle, which was usually a slaughter. 
 

The thing that made the stories all the more terrifying? It was all true. All committed by a beast that had forgotten what it meant to be human. 
 

Travaian had long forgotten his last name; most explained it away by saying he was simply a demon born of an evil cloud, a product of the fantasy realm's innate evil. For all of his inhuman qualities, he was still a man. He was just a specimen that had never been and would never be seen again due to his impossible physical qualities. 
 

The terrifying thing about the black knight was his seemingly unstable appearance. On some days, his eyes would be the reddest of red that seemed to contain all of the rage and hatred of Lucifer himself. Still, on other days, he would appear like a foreboding, solemn, and frightening specter with eyes that penetrated the very souls of anyone who dared look. 

His changing figure was evidence of inhuman powers that he had been blessed with, or cursed with, depending on how one looked at him. Whatever he needed such vast power for was a mystery to everyone—it was as if his entire purpose was to be an antithesis to the idea of good, moral, and happy beings. Everywhere he walked, dread replaced what was once there. Factors that would be applied due to his ruthlessness and the chaos that seemed always to follow him. 

His name, the Vast, wasn't given due to wealth, prowess, or anything that could be considered normal. Instead, it was merely a statement on how much suffering his mere presence caused the poor, innocent, and weak citizens and criminals of the fantasy realm. 

Nothing opposed him, but there was nothing for him as well. So, Tavarian, every is searching for something that will fulfill that emptiness in his soul. 

Who does oppose him?