The Demon King’s army reached the gates of Conrad, their monstrous forms spreading terror through the capital city.

Despite the thick walls and desperate resistance of the remaining knights and soldiers, their efforts were like a pebble thrown against an unstoppable wave.

Trolls shattered gates with their immense strength, goblins swarmed through cracks in the defenses, and gnolls howled as they tore through the remaining resistance.

The streets of the once-prosperous city became a battlefield drenched in blood and littered with the cries of despair.

Yet the Demon King paid no heed to the carnage around him.

He left the chaos in the hands of his generals and began his deliberate march toward the palace.

His crimson eyes glowed with malice as he ascended the steps leading to the grand gates. No guards remained to bar his entry.

Their bodies lay broken along the path, their blood staining the stone as a silent testimony to his wrath.

The grand doors to the palace court creaked open under his claws, the sound reverberating through the silent halls.

The room was eerily still, devoid of the bustling ministers and noblemen who once filled it.

Only one figure remained.

At the end of the hall, upon the gilded throne, sat King Serom.

His face was pale, worn with age and burdened by the weight of what was about to transpire.

His crown sat crooked atop his head, and his robes hung loose, a shadow of the majesty they once represented.

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“You’re finally here,” the king spoke, his voice low and weary, carrying the weight of countless lives lost.

He straightened in his seat, his frail hands gripping the armrests as if the throne itself were the last remnant of his authority.

The Demon King paused, his gaze cold and unyielding as it swept over the empty seats of the court.

“It seems the rest of your ministers have fled,” he remarked, his voice dripping with disdain.

King Serom gave a weak nod. “I ordered them to leave,” he admitted.

“There was no point in them staying. Their lives would have been wasted.”

The Demon King tilted his head slightly, an unsettling grin forming on his face.

“And yet, here you are. Why didn’t you flee with them? Did you think staying here would change your fate?”

The king met his gaze, his eyes resolute despite the tremor in his voice.

“Even if I fled, you would have found me eventually. This city, my kingdom, would still fall to your hands.”

“True,” the Demon King said, taking slow, deliberate steps toward the throne. His claws gleamed under the flickering light of the chandeliers.

“Any last words, old man? Speak them now before I silence you forever.”

The king took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with visible effort.

“Why?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“Why have you done this? Why did you kill so many innocent people? Destroy so many lives? Was it necessary?”

The Demon King stopped a few paces away, his expression darkening. “Hadn’t I told you before? That’s a foolish question,” he growled. His voice echoed through the hall, sending a shiver down the spine of the frail king. “You humans and I—no, my kind—can never share the same skies."

As his words hung in the air, the Demon King raised his claws, their sharp edges gleaming with a dark energy.

He moved closer, his steps slow and deliberate, each one reverberating through the hollow chamber.

The king remained seated, his trembling hands clutching the armrests as he watched his doom approach.

“Your time is over.” With those words, the Demon King slashed his claws in one swift, brutal motion.

The king’s neck split open, and a spray of blood erupted from the wound, staining the golden throne a deep crimson.

King Serom’s lifeless body slumped to the side, his crown falling to the floor with a dull clang.

His eyes, once filled with hope and responsibility, now stared blankly into the void.

The Demon King watched the lifeless body for a moment before grabbing it by the arm and tossing it aside like discarded trash.

The sound of the body hitting the cold marble floor echoed through the silent chamber.

With slow, deliberate steps, the Demon King ascended the blood-stained dais and lowered himself onto the throne.

The once-pristine seat of the kingdom’s power was now drenched in blood, a gruesome symbol of his conquest.

He leaned back, his crimson eyes surveying the empty hall as a sinister grin spread across his face.

Outside, the city burned, its once-thriving streets filled with screams and the sound of crumbling stone.

The kingdom’s banners were torn down, replaced by the ominous sigil of the Demon King.

As he sat on the throne, the embodiment of destruction and power, the world beyond trembled, for they knew that the age of humanity was coming to a close—and the age of darkness had begun.

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Hello, readers!

The prologue has come to an end, and starting tomorrow, the main story begins!

Stay tuned, and I hope you’ll to enjoy the adventure ahead!

From tomorrow, there will be one chapter daily.