Peace reigned over the Ignathian continent, uniting its four great kingdoms: The Montag Kingdom, ruled by humans; The Darkvill Kingdom, governed by demons; The Eldarion Kingdom, home of the elves; and The Ironland Kingdom, where the dwarves thrived.
However, peace is often fleeting. William, the cowardly prince of the Montag Kingdom, shattered the fragile harmony. Driven by arrogance and fear, he declared war on the demons, breaking the long-standing peace between the two kingdoms.
William was widely regarded as a fool, even among his own people. His impulsive decision and glaring incompetence as a leader eroded his already tenuous popularity. The humans of Montag Kingdom found themselves disillusioned and resentful as the prince led them into a war they could not win.
The conflict raged for years, but in the end, the Darkvill Kingdom emerged triumphant. The Montag Kingdom was utterly defeated, its name erased from history. The royal family was slaughtered, and the surviving humans were enslaved, bound to the will of the demons.
For over a century, humanity remained under the iron grip of the Darkvill Kingdom, their fate a stark reminder of the price of war and the consequences of reckless leadership.
~~~
A boy ran down the shadowy streets. His ragged breath joined the shouts behind him.
"Get back here, you filthy brat!" one of the demon soldiers roared.
The boy did not look back. The fire seared his legs, his heart pounded in his ears, but he pushed onward, dodging through crowded streets until he reached the refuge of a dark alley. Collapsing against the cold stone wall, he gasped for air.
"Ha. finally." he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "I lost them. I'm free. for now."
His black shirt clung to his thin frame, his shorts barely offering any protection against the chill. His hair, jet black, framed a pale face, but his most striking feature was his eyes, white as snow, a stark contrast to the world around him.
He stood, shaking off his exhaustion. "I can't stay here. This city. it's a death trap. I have to leave before they find me again."
The boy moved cautiously, his bare feet making little noise on the cobblestone. In a pile of trash, something caught his eye-a black, tattered cape. He picked it up and draped it over his shoulders.
"This'll do," he muttered, stepping back into the crowded streets.
Around him, demons of all shapes and sizes filled the bustling marketplace. He tried to blend in, keeping his head low.
"If I'm right, this is the central plaza," he thought. "Good news is, it's busy, harder for them to find me. Bad news. soldiers everywhere."
His heart sank as he spotted demon guards patrolling in pairs. Their sharp eyes scanned the crowd.
"Why are there so many?!" he cursed under his breath, quickening his pace.
But fate was unkind. One of the soldiers caught sight of him. "There he is!"
The boy's eyes widened. Without hesitation, he bolted, shoving through the crowd and leaping onto a nearby rooftop. The soldiers gave chase, their shouts echoing below.
Cornered, the boy spun around, his eyes flashing at his pursuers. Fire burst from his hands, crackling with raw energy. "I won't go back! Not now, not ever!"
He launched a fireball at the guards in a blinding explosion that sent several soldiers flying. A few survived, writhing in agony.
For a moment, hope flickered in the boy's heart. But that hope was short-lived. Reinforcements arrived, surrounding him from all sides.
"I'll never stop fighting!" he roared, his voice breaking with anger and desperation. Flames danced around his fists, and his aura turned crimson. He charged at the soldiers, each punch erupting like a bomb, the sheer heat melting the very ground beneath their feet.
The battle was absolute mayhem: buildings crumbled, and the air was thick with the stench of ash and burnt human flesh. When the dust settled, the unconscious boy lay amidst the ruin, his body battered and broken.
Defeat was as sure as a shadow hanging over him. He had no more strength, no more options.
But fate had other plans.
A figure emerged from the darkness, her crimson eyes glowing like embers. Her black hair cascaded over pale shoulders, and her lips curled into a sly smirk.
"Kufufufu. what a fiery little prince we have here," she said, her voice a mix of mockery and allure. She knelt beside him, her long, slender fingers brushing his soot-streaked face.
"You've overdone it, haven't you? Burning through all that mana." Her laugh was soft, almost musical. "You might die at this rate. What a waste that would be."
Rising to her feet, she extended her hand, conjuring a glowing sphere of magic. The boy's body floated upward, limp but alive.
"I suppose I'll have to take you with me," she mused, her tone teasing. She turned toward the dark forest, the jagged peaks of the Dark Mountains looming in the distance.
"It looks like you and I will be spending some quality time together. my dear Kajin."
Her laugh echoed through the night as she disappeared into the shadows, carrying the boy to a fate unknown.