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Chapter 1

For centuries, the ancient lore has spoken of a fearsome event destined to recur once every three hundred years: the rise of the Demon King. 

This malevolent entity, born of darkness and chaos, would unleash his wrath upon the world, leading a relentless army that would devastate everything in its path. 

Villages would burn, kingdoms would fall, and the fragile peace that humanity clung to would be shattered like glass.

But within this same lore, there is a glimmer of hope—a prophecy intertwined with the darkness. 

Every three hundred years, a Hero or an Apostle chosen by the gods would also emerge, a beacon of light to counter the encroaching shadows. 

This hero, imbued with divine power and guided by the gods' will, would stand against the Demon King, striving to restore balance and peace to the world.

This cycle of destruction and salvation has been the cornerstone of myths and legends, whispered by the elders around campfires, recounted in ancient tomes, and passed down through generations. 

It is a story of hope and despair, of light and darkness, of a never-ending struggle between good and evil.

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[Goddess Aria Temple – Saintess Praying Hall]

In the heart of the temple, the saintess knelt in fervent prayer, her simple robes flowing around her like a gentle whisper. 

Her fair skin glowed softly, and her blonde hair cascaded down her back, catching the light from the flickering candles that lined the hall. 

Before her stood a grand statue of the goddess Aria, serene and majestic, watching over her devout follower.

The saintess clasped her hands tightly, her eyes closed in deep concentration. 

A delicate aura of light emanated from her body, illuminating the dim hall with a divine glow. 

The paladins guarding the entrance watched in silent awe, captivated by the ethereal beauty of the scene.

Suddenly, the light around the saintess began to intensify, growing brighter and more radiant. 

The paladins shielded their eyes from the blinding brilliance. 

Without warning, the light vanished, and the saintess collapsed to her knees, her face ashen and her body trembling violently.

"Saintess! Are you alright?" one of the paladins exclaimed, rushing to her side.

The saintess struggled to rise, her strength nearly spent. 

"The Demon King…" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"What?" the paladin asked, confusion etched across his face.

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"The Demon King has emerged!" she cried, her voice trembling with fear.

The paladins froze, the gravity of her words sinking in. 

The ancient prophecy had come to pass. 

Panic flashed in their eyes as they exchanged worried glances.

"We must inform the Pope immediately," the saintess commanded, her usual composure shattered by dread.

"Yes, Saintess," the paladins replied in unison, hastily leaving the hall to carry out her orders.

Left alone, the saintess turned her tear-streaked face toward the statue of Aria. 

"Oh, Goddess, please help us," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Grant us your protection and guide us through this darkness."

Her prayer echoed through the empty hall, a desperate plea for divine intervention in a world on the brink of chaos.

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[Feria Territory – forest area]

Feria Territory lies on the edge of the kingdom, a bastion of defense against the neighboring forest teeming with monsters and demons. 

The terrain is rugged and shadowed, with ancient trees towering like sentinels, their twisted branches weaving a dense canopy that barely allows the sunlight to pierce through. 

This foreboding woodland is a constant reminder of the ever-present threat lurking just beyond the kingdom's borders.

To safeguard the realm, a massive wall and an imposing fortress have been erected, a testament to the kingdom's resilience. 

The soldiers of Feria Territory bear the heavy responsibility of defending against the monstrous hordes. 

Every day, scouts are dispatched to gather intelligence on any movements or changes among the creatures, or to subjugate any that venture too close.

Today, a group of scouts, clad in gleaming armor and armed with swords, shields, and spears, set out on their patrol. 

The air was filled with the rhythmic clinking of their equipment and the crunch of leaves underfoot. 

The forest seemed unusually quiet, the silence only broken by their idle chatter.

"Hey, do you think we’ll find any strong monsters today?" one soldier asked, his voice carrying a hint of both excitement and apprehension.

"No idea. For the last few years, the number of monsters has dwindled," another replied, his tone casual.

"Yeah, it’s true. So why do we have to patrol every day?" a third soldier grumbled.

"It’s our duty," the leader of the group responded firmly, though his demeanor was relaxed. 

He was a seasoned veteran, his armor worn but well-maintained, and his eyes held a certain calm confidence.

The soldiers continued their patrol, more relaxed than vigilant, exchanging banter and stories as they moved through the forest. 

They dispatched any creatures they encountered—mostly goblins and gnolls—with practiced ease, their movements efficient and routine.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows through the forest, their captain decided it was time to return. 

"Let’s head back. There’s nothing unusual today," he said, turning to lead the way home.

Just as they were about to leave, the captain suddenly halted, a frown creasing his brow. 

"Hey, how many soldiers were deployed for this patrol?" he asked, a note of urgency in his voice.

"Thirty, sir," one of them replied promptly.

"Count everyone," the captain ordered, his voice tense.

The soldiers quickly counted, the initial casualness giving way to concern. 

The result was unsettling—only twenty-three soldiers stood in their ranks. 

Seven were missing.

A chill ran down the captain’s spine as he looked around the darkening forest. 

The once familiar and almost mundane patrol had taken a sinister turn. 

"We need to find them," the captain said, his voice steely with determination.

The soldiers moved carefully, the earlier camaraderie replaced by a tense silence. 

The forest was eerily still, every sound amplified in the quiet—the rustle of leaves, the whisper of the wind, even the sound of their own breathing.

"Everyone be careful. Something is strange," the captain warned, his eyes scanning the shadows.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream shattered the silence. "Aaaghh!!"

Panic rippled through the group. 

"What was that?" a soldier gasped, the fear palpable in his voice.

The captain's eyes narrowed. 

"Everyone, let’s move carefully and stick together," he commanded, taking the lead with renewed urgency.

They navigated through the trees and dense underbrush, hearts pounding as they approached the source of the scream. 

The scene that greeted them was one of pure horror. 

Seven bodies lay scattered on the ground, brutally torn apart. 

Limbs, legs, and heads were grotesquely dismembered, blood soaking the earth.

Amidst the carnage, a towering figure sat, its presence more menacing than any being they had ever encountered. 

The creature exuded an aura of pure malice, and the instincts of the soldiers screamed at them to flee but the fear rooted them to the spot.

"Everyone, run!" the captain yelled, his voice cracking with fear.

But it was too late. 

They were already surrounded. Goblins and gnolls emerged from the shadows, their eyes gleaming with savage glee as they closed in on the soldiers, cutting off any chance of escape.

The captain's mind raced, desperately seeking a plan, but then the monstrous figure rose to its full height, casting a long, ominous shadow over them. 

The creature's eyes locked onto the captain, and it spoke in a voice that resonated with dark power.

"Go back," it commanded, stepping forward with terrifying ease. "Go back and tell every human being to prepare themselves."

In one swift motion, the creature grabbed a soldier by the head and crushed it as if it were made of paper. 

"Because I'm coming."

Blood splattered across the captain's face, the warm droplets a stark contrast to the cold terror gripping his heart.

"I'm coming to raze their grounds, annihilate their species, and destroy everything," the being declared, its voice echoing with the promise of untold destruction.

Only then did the captain realize the true identity of the creature standing before them. 

The Demon King.

"So, go back and tell them to stop me if they can."

In that moment, the captain felt the weight of their predicament crush down upon him. 

The legends were true, and the harbinger of chaos had returned. 

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