The sun had set. The night had fallen. The bright moon that always shone a brilliant yellow, now turned into crimson red— as though it were drenched in blood of countless humans.
The ground was filled with blood and the spoils of war— occasionally including body part along with armors and gears. The corpses were scattered around as well. Some of them were pierced with spear or stabbed with swords while some of them, were burned to ashes, frizzed into ice, buried underneath, and so on.
The battle was still on. It was a battle between the humans and shadow demons from 'Shadow World'. Needless to say, the demons outnumbered them as they only suffered minor losses while humanity almost lost the imperial army on the frontline.
The dead were being devoured by the shadow demons. It allowed them to manifest into a physical form, composed of the flesh and blood they consumed.
A large number of shadow demons had already evolved into Stage-1 Demons; superior to the shadow ones and could harness the mana flowing within their newly acquired bodies.
"We're doomed. It's impossible to win against them now."
"Damn them! We cannot even flee."
"O Goddess of Creation, save us from this crisis."
The terrified look, the scared faces, the panicked behaviour of those humans, motivated the demons to push themselves further. They were not only advantageous to kill who lost their will to fight, but also having great fun to slaughter the humans one after another. They were unstoppable.
The imperial army was completely vanquished. The second line of defence was also annihilated. The remaining troops contained only some handful adventurers of Stage-5 or lesser. The swordsmen were also out of number. The mages were weakening. The other class adventurers were also getting killed in the battle.
The Nation of Zelpher, which engaged in the battle against the demons, was caught off guard when they prepared for war, expecting only a small number of enemies. They didn't anticipate to face such an overwhelming army which appeared in the midway. Thus, they didn't call for their allied nations either.
Their arrogance was turning into their downfall as they ignored the worst-case scenario.
At that moment, the demon army, numbering over a hundred thousand, were up against only the remaining city guards and adventurers who worked for the Clan back at Zelpher— only about a thousand soldiers and about a hundred adventurers; including healers, mages, assassins, tankers, fighters and so.
Most of them had given up. Some of them even recalling the joy and fun days they had lived with their family. Some of them, were crying— incapable of facing what awaited them— utter despair.
In reality there was no way they could ever win against such battle which was about to devour the rest of them. Soon they'd take over the Nation of Zelpher, devour the normal citizen and would be victorious only to make preparation for their next goal.
Or so what would have happened if the miracle never occurred before them.
A ray of light hit the ground from the moon— almost in middle of demon army and the humans. As everyone lifted their heads, they witnessed a staff showered by the sparkling moonlight.
It appeared to be made of a mythic crystal called 'Sandrium'. Looked gorgeous as it shined in its utmost pride, released a godly aura over the places. Yet it was patterned like a wooden staff which was curved near its head portion and circled by five floating shiny Sandrium crystal around it.
The thing that attracted most of the attention was the blue Sandrium orb floating inside the curve. From the looks, as it seemed, it was the very reincarnation of the 'Creation Moon' that used to appear once a millennia in the sky.
What happened next, surprised them to the bones. A single person, out of nowhere, appeared to be standing elegantly on that godly staff. His face was covered in a ferocious black mask. His jade black rob waved majestically. His black attire indicated him to be a mage— if any, then a Stage-10 one which was considered to be the highest ranks in the world.
The gentle wind touched his shiny bluish-white spike hairs. His appearance was no less than divine itself.
The humans were shocked or rather, relieved. To them, it was a ray of hope. Their eyes filled with the tears of salvation as they looked at him in a worshiping manner.
"The Goddess of Creation hasn't given up on us." They sobbed.
The leading Demon General who halted in the face of such phenomena, finally grasped the situation as he let out a huge laugh.
"Yaa-Haa-Haa! To think that the humans are getting their hopes back, is nothing but an utmost pleasure for us. That's when we'll crash the hope over again. Do they think, only adding another weakling to their forces would make them stronger than us? Yaa-Haa-Haa!!!"
His subordinates soon joined in laugh as well. Their laughter echoed through the entire battlefield.
"You seemed to have the wrong idea." The mysterious person elegantly standing on the staff folded his arms, "What gives you the impression that I'm another weakling just like the rest of them?"
"Hmm?" the demon general halted laughing, "What else can you be. You're just another low-life mage, after all. Even if your stage is high compared to them, there's no way in hell that you'll ever be able to overpower us. Am I wrong?"
"Quite precisely." A systematic prompt screen opened before him, "You see, I'm not a mage nor a low-life. I am something way beyond your comprehension."
[Do you want to use the 'Crown of Demon God'?]
[
As he chose the 'Yes' option, a godlike crown appeared on his head— Made of pure Dark Gold and curved with majestic pattern. On each pattern a purple Sandrium crystal was embedded.
"For that, I am a sorcerer, not a typical one though. In fact, I am a Dragonborn Sorcerer."
There was no one left, who hadn't heard that or was not stunned in shock.
In that world, people were divided into two category— one who was born without mana, normally the typical humans, and one who was born with mana, most likely the Adventurers.
The people who were born with mana also received the 'Grace of the Goddess of Creation'. Thus had the affinity to choose their class whether as a mage, fighter, tanker, fighters, healer or many more. And the maximum mana they possessed determined their stage— whether from Stage-1, the weakest to Stage-10, the strongest.
However, in certain cases or in legends, many exceptions had been seen. These were called Heroes, Necromancer, Sorcerer and many more. They were considered as beyond Stage-10 and the chosen by the Goddess herself.
Their mana was immeasurable. Their class was incomparable. The strength they wield was intense. They can be describe in many ways, such as those.
And the person who arrived, was a sorcerer. To be more accurate, he was a Dragonborn Sorcerer.
So what differed them from a typical sorcerer?
It was an additional protection from the Supreme Dragon God himself— the one who, in legend, was the caretaker of the worlds created by the Goddess of Creation.
Both the 'Grace' of the Goddess and the 'Protection' of the Supreme Dragon God made him a Dragonborn Sorcerer. It was unknown just how many powerful spells he possessed.
"Dragonborn you say?" The demon general startled a little where his subordinates lacked the intelligence to comprehend the situation, "My my, how honoured I've been! Might as well let you have the honour to knowing who will be the cause of your downfall. For I, one of the ten generals of the Demon King, am a Stage-7 demon. You shall call me Damrill."
As he spoke his name out loud, his menacing aura created a shockwave which trembled the battleground and made the humans more terrified. While on the other hand, the mysterious figure remained unfazed.