Thunder cracked across the blood-soaked plains, the heavens themselves trembling under the weight of the battle.
Spells clashed with steel, explosions rippled through the ranks, and the earth was painted red with the blood of both human and demon alike.
The Alliance of Races—humans, elves, dwarves, and beastmen—pushed forward in formation, their strongest warriors casting their highest-tier magic, desperate to end this war once and for all.
The demons answered in kind, a tide of crimson mana flooding the battlefield.
Infernal flames roared across the land, black lightning shattered the sky, and the ground itself cracked as demonic magic surged through it.
But far from the chaos, away from the countless dying soldiers, stood the true battle—a confrontation that would decide the fate of the war.
A ruined town on the edge of the battlefield served as their stage.
Crumbling stone houses, shattered streets, and collapsed towers stood as silent witnesses to the battle between two legendary figures.
A man stood in the center of the destruction.
He wore black regal battle robes with golden and red linings, his crimson hair flowing like fire in the wind.
His red eyes burned with amusement, and atop his head, a crown-shaped horn gleamed under the bloodied sky.
And in his grip was a black longsword, its red blade shimmering with an eerie glow.
Deivaros Veirs Crimson. The First Demon King. The Unifier. The Destroyer.
And standing opposite him was a young woman, her silver hair flowing behind her like a divine banner, her blue eyes burning with quiet fury.
She wore ornate armor, a silver chestplate adorned with intricate engravings, and in her grip was a slim rapier-like longsword that seemed almost too delicate for war.
Lucia Carson. The Hero of this era.
Their blades met with a thunderous clang, shockwaves erupting from their strikes and ripping through the ruined town.
Lucia lunged, her rapier darting like a viper, aiming for Deivaros' heart.
With an arrogant smirk, Deivaros tilted his body ever so slightly, the blade missing by mere centimeters.
His free hand then shot forward, fingers like claws, aiming for her throat.
CLANG!
Lucia twisted, parrying with a flourish before launching a spinning kick aimed at his ribs.
WHOOSH!
The air itself cracked as her foot sailed through it—only to strike nothing.
Deivaros was already behind her.
His movement was too sharp, too precise. It was as if he was manipulating force itself, adjusting his velocity in ways that defied logic.
Lucia barely managed to twist her body, her sword flashing upward to block his incoming strike.
Sparks flew as his overwhelming strength sent her skidding backward, her boots digging trenches into the ruined stone road.
As he was about to rush at her before she could recover, a shadow loomed behind Deivaros.
A bulky man, his bald head reflecting the light of burning buildings, muscles bulging beneath his barbarian warrior's garb, swung a massive greatsword down with terrifying force.
It was Joseph, the Sword King.
The blade screamed through the air—only to stop mid-strike.
CLANG!
Deivaros had caught the greatsword with a single hand.
The sheer force that should have been able to split mountains, and yet he stood unfazed, his fingers digging into the steel as cracks formed along the weapon's length.
Joseph's eyes widened.
"You again?" Deivaros mused, smirking. "Tell me, Joseph, how does it feel to be so predictable?"
Joseph roared and pulled his sword back, but Deivaros released his grip and kicked him in the stomach, sending the massive warrior crashing through two ruined houses.
FWOOOOOSH!
A sudden pillar of fire erupted beneath Deivaros, forcing him into the air.
From atop a broken tower stood a dark-skinned elf, his black robe and hat fluttering in the wind, his long wooden staff humming with power.
The staff was no ordinary weapon—it was a branch from the World Tree itself.
And it's wielder was Gideon, the Sage.
"Incendia obruere!"
The flames twisted and roared, forming a massive whirlpool of fire, ready to consume the Demon King.
But Deivaros simply snapped his fingers.
Suddenly—
BOOM!
A concentrated burst of force exploded beneath him, sending him rocketing out of the flames like a projectile.
He flipped in the air, his sword slicing through the wind, and descended upon Gideon like a meteor.
"IGNIS VOLARE!!"
Gideon threw out his hand, summoning a massive winged phoenix of fire, its talons lashing out.
But Deivaros swiped his sword downward, and the air itself fractured.
CRACK!
The phoenix was torn apart, flames scattering like dying embers.
Deivaros landed gracefully, looking at Gideon with an amused grin. "You're quite the madman, elf. That spell could have killed thousands of your own men you know."
But Gideon's eyes were wild. "As long as it kills you, I don't care."
Suddenly, a blinding beam of holy light pierced through Deivaros' back, leaving behind a searing wound.
For the first time, he grunted.
He turned his head, crimson eyes locking onto a girl in priestly robes standing amidst the ruins. She held a golden staff, glowing with divine power.
Elaine, the Saintess.
"You're as arrogant as ever, Demon King," she said coldly. "Your sins will not go unpunished."
And with the arrival of Elaine, the hero's party, now complete launched a full assault on the Demon King.
For several minutes, the four of them fought as one, almost pushing Deivaros to his limits.
Their combined power shook the battlefield, the sheer force of their battle annihilating everything in their path.
Deivaros, though still dominant, was finally starting to slow a bit.
And just then—
A golden magic circle ignited beneath them, covering a total distance of 600 square kilometers almost instantly.
For the first time, Deivaros felt true fear.
His instincts screamed at him—this was death.
He tried to escape, but—
SLASH!
Lucia pierced his thigh, pinning him to the ground.
Joseph grabbed his arms, holding him down with his monstrous strength.
Vines erupted from the earth, wrapping around his body.
"Are you all insane?!" Deivaros roared, struggling violently. His red eyes burned with rage as he glared at Gideon. "That spell—!!"
Gideon's lips curled into a twisted smile.
"Divina Poena."
The spell activated.
A pillar of pure holy destruction swallowed the battlefield, erasing everything within it.
The last thing the world saw of the Demon King was his silhouette, his final scream lost in the blinding light.
And thus—
Deivaros Veirs Crimson, the first Demon King of the demonic continent, perished.
Or so the world believed.