Ten million years ago, before the age of the gods and after the fall of the great Surtur, there stood a majestic, cruel tyrant who lived for blood, thirst, destruction, and obliterating anyone who dared to challenge his path for absolute dominion.
The Dark Lord Amethyst was an insidious monster who enjoyed killing and torture for entertainment. He had tanned skin, dark crimson eyes, a perfect jawline, and handsome features comparable to a fairy and an angel, in contrast to his vast, pure evil personality.
"The era of your so-called gods has fallen; their rule over the entire Midgard has ended. They thought that after preventing Ragnarok, the prophecy of their annihilation would also be prevented," said a stern, malicious voice with a creepy smile echoing through every mortal's ears, as if a new age of terror was the only thing that awaited them.
"I will not yield, you filthy animal. A mere hideous-looking dark elf daring to triumph over us is such a disgrace to all existence," said the old man, who looked frail in a weakened state yet unyielding with determination in the face of the most heartless being, unafraid of death as if his will were unbreakable.
Amethyst just stood there, looking down as if his eyes could swallow everything whole into oblivion. Yet he dared not make a single move, which added fuel to the fire, making those mocking insults insignificant.
"Me too; such an ugly creature like you deserves to go extinct," said the young man next to the old man.
Then followed the voices of every other mortal, as if no one could ever destroy their hope, even facing the dark lord, who ruthlessly slaughtered the gods into extinction.
"We will never bow down to you!"
"Karma awaits you!"
"I hope you will face the worst death in your life!"
Every human, demi-human, beast hybrid, high elf, fairy, and other surviving races of creatures left on Midgard united, condemning the one man sitting at the top of the dark-red, gloomy throne reflecting malevolent auras of death.
"Foolish," a single word he uttered made the entire crowd crumble in fear; on the contrary, the once rebellious spirit vanished in an instant, replaced with mountains of corpses displayed in every corner of where the dark lord stood.
The other surviving men who withstood the intense killing intent began to realize something and started to flee, yet unknown to them, it was already too late; the dark lord never made any physical movement while the rebels struggled to breathe and eventually lost consciousness—well, not exactly lost consciousness. Their minds were destroyed in an instant.
"If I had known y'all would be this weak, then I wouldn't have bothered coming here," he muttered.
The land was now filled with a blood-soaked river. Even the trees couldn't escape Amethyst's one-sided massacre.
When Amethyst was about to leave, he noticed someone making a circle inscribed with a magic rune, but before he could react, the man responsible grinned in victory.
"Hahahahah... you thought you'd won, but you fell into our trap; those honorable people you killed used their blood to complete this final trump card against a monster like you," said the young man, who showed confidence and dignity.
The young man was the youngest yet most talented archmage in the history of Midgard; if given enough time, he could have become powerful enough to be the pillar of mankind if it weren't for the great sacrifice he was willing to make.
The dark lord, who once underestimated every inferior creature, could now feel wariness, as if telling his senses to stop the young man from what he was planning to do. Yet the moment he decided to act, the magical circle filled with dark blood as its fuel began to glow all over the land where the floating throne of the dark lord resided.
Every matter started to distort; space and time were in constant chaos. All elemental particles began to devour one another, and then a space rift appeared, filled with nihility. Inside the rift was the void of nothingness at the end of all things.
Amethyst was in awe after witnessing the true end of all things; the power of nothingness began to devour reality, and everything it touched—even the skies, the land, and the seas—couldn't escape its destined demise.
Amethyst used his strongest ether to act as a defensive shield against the instant deletion in his surroundings; he created a forbidden crystallized gem to lock himself away. He poured all his learned knowledge into making ethereal runes that prevented the void essence from touching him.
Cracks started appearing, easily dismantling the barrier.
Finally, Amethyst managed to cast a forbidden spell he had created millennia ago for perfection.
The forbidden spell he accidentally created was considered a trump card. He didn't know what it would do, yet his gut feeling told him that this forbidden magic was the perfect tool for him to escape this predicament.
"Hahahaha... So this is what they call doomsday, huh? I guess this is the only opponent worthy of my attention," Amethyst exclaimed with an arrogant, smug grin on his lips.
After ascending into godhood, he lost his purpose in life, treating every being like an ant he could easily crush with the tip of his finger.
Once the void touched his body, the essence immediately affected his soul and mind, but luckily for him, the forbidden magic was completed.