*Prologue*

The Night the World Fell

The sky split open above the capital.

Not with thunder.

Not with lightning.

But with darkness.

A massive tear ripped across the heavens, stretching like a wound through the clouds. Black energy poured from it, twisting the air and turning the moon crimson.

Then the first demon fell.

It crashed into the outer walls of the capital like a meteor.

The stone shattered. Soldiers screamed.

Within seconds, more followed.

Hundreds of winged monsters descended from the sky, their claws tearing through towers and battlements as chaos erupted across the city.

Magic cannons roared from the palace walls.

Blue blasts of mana streaked across the sky, cutting down several demons—but for every monster that fell, three more replaced it.

The empire’s greatest capital had become a battlefield. At the center of it all stood a man smiling.

Zio Begdor.

A general of the empire. A hero of the people. The man who had just doomed them all.

Behind him, the rift in the sky widened. Something enormous stepped through.

The ground trembled. Even the demons paused.

A massive claw emerged from the darkness, followed by a towering figure wrapped in black armor.

The Demon King had arrived.

Thousands of soldiers froze, some dropped their weapons. Others fell to their knees.

The pressure alone felt like a mountain crushing their lungs.

The Demon King looked down at the burning city. Then at Zio.

“So this is the world you wished to betray,” the Demon King said.

Zio bowed. “Yes, my king.”

“Then let us begin its destruction.”

The night the world fell had begun.