The night lay heavy over the capital, the moon climbing high above jagged mountain peaks. Around the dense forests at the city's edge, shadows stirred. Figures emerged in silence—dozens of them, disguised in human forms they are corrupted. Their eyes gleamed black, pupils burning crimson, and two sharp horns jutted from their foreheads. Cloaked in tattered black, they stood like specters in the moonlight.
At their center stood a man with two black horns, his aura darker than the rest. In his hand rested a crystal orb, black as midnight. With a growl, he crushed it into shards, the fragments scattering like falling stars. His voice thundered with rage.
"Those losers. They're all dead."
The demons shifted uneasily. One of them sighed, shaking his head.
"Boss, I told you we shouldn't have joined them in our team."
The horned leader's crimson gaze cut through the night as he replied coldly.
