The classroom buzzed with an electric anticipation as Lady Anastasia Featherstone von Eldrin, the regal teacher with a commanding presence, strode into the lecture hall. Her flowing robes trailed behind her like liquid starlight, and her staff shimmered with an otherworldly glow. The students fell silent, their attention locked on her as she began to speak.
"Welcome to your first lesson in the history of our world," she said, her voice calm yet tinged with an undercurrent of sorrow. "This is not a tale of glory. It is a story of survival, despair, and fleeting hope. Listen well, for this knowledge may one day save your lives."
She raised her staff, and the air in the room grew heavy as a magical projection appeared—a map of the world divided into territories.
"This is our world, Altheon," she began. "A land once thriving, filled with endless green forests, glittering seas, and unshakable cities. But then came *The Abyssal Rapture*, an event that shattered our peace 700 years ago. Across the land, monstrous holes tore through the earth. From these voids crawled the demons—beasts of nightmare and shadow."
The map darkened as crimson markings spread like poison, consuming once-proud cities and towns.
"The demons showed no mercy," she continued, her voice heavy with emotion. "Their numbers were unending, their power insurmountable. And so, humanity fell. The Westlands, once a beacon of innovation and prosperity, were the first to be consumed. That day, now called *The Fall of Tranquil Grace*, marked the start of humanity's descent into despair. Millions perished, their screams echoing across the lands. Those who survived were left to wander, lost and broken."
I shuddered, imagining the horrors she described. The weight of the past pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket.
"Why did the demons come?" a student asked timidly. "And why through these… holes?"
"No one knows," Lady Anastasia replied solemnly. "The holes are not natural. They are tears in reality, gateways to realms unknown. Perhaps it was humanity's arrogance, or perhaps we were simply unlucky. What matters is that we endured. But not without sacrifice."
"When all hope seemed lost, the heavens took pity on us," Lady Anastasia continued. "Four celestial beings descended, their forms radiant and terrible, wielding unimaginable power. They were *The Four Defenders*: Luthien, the Blade of Light; Seraphina, the Aegis of Purity; Kael, the Stormbringer; and Selene, the Shadow Healer. These angels granted humanity a gift—heroes blessed with their divine power to stand against the tide of darkness."
The projection shifted to show a man wreathed in flames, his sword blazing like the sun.
"The first of these was *The Flame Hero, Arden Valiantheart*. With his fiery blade and unyielding courage, he struck down the first Demon King, bringing humanity its first victory in years. But the triumph was short-lived."
The projection darkened once more, showing a throne of bones where a new Demon King sat.
"The Demon King respawned five times," she said, her voice grim. "Each time, more powerful, more cunning. But humanity refused to yield. Five more heroes arose, each blessed by the Four Defenders. Together, they defeated the respawns, carving out fragile moments of peace."
"And then," Lady Anastasia said, her voice softening, "there was *The Honored One*. The seventh Demon King rose a hundred years after the others, a monstrosity unlike any before. By then, the angels had vanished, their divine light extinguished after the death of the sixth Demon King. No blessings remained to aid humanity. Yet one man, George—known as *The Honored One*—stood alone. He wielded no divine power, only his sheer will and unmatched skill. Against all odds, he fought and defeated the seventh Demon King."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with sorrow and reverence.
"The holes remain, dormant but ever-present. The Demon King has already returned, as it always does. But how did it even resurrect before 100 years"
I clenched my fists. The stories were too much to bear—the endless cycle of despair, the burden of heroism. How could anyone shoulder such a responsibility?
As Lady Anastasia's lecture ended, I sat in silence, the weight of the world's history pressing down on me. The Fall, the endless respawns of the Demon King, the sacrifices of the heroes—how was anyone supposed to live in a world so steeped in despair?
I glanced at Alysia, who was quietly listening, her face determined. How could she be so strong? I envied her resolve, her unshakable belief that things could get better.
But me? I felt lost, overwhelmed by the enormity of it all.
How could I, a boy with no magic and no strength, possibly survive this world?