The sky over the Human Continent was now nothing more than a vault of ashes and crimson vapors, a distorted mirror of the hell that Lucifer and Aeshma had unleashed upon these once fertile lands. The demonic mana, thick and suffocating like an invisible molasses, had spread into every corner, seeping into the lungs of the last survivors and corrupting the earth down to its roots. The human continent was now only a distant memory, a ghost capital surrounded by a basalt desert where even the wind seemed to moan in agony. As far as the eye could see, the villages were nothing but smoking charnel houses, piles of stones and bones where deformed monsters born from the forced mutation of the inhabitants roamed.

The Tenebris Continent, long since uninhabitable, now saw the Human Continent following the same macabre path. The only structures still standing, dark monoliths of black stone, were the operational bases of The Spectrum. For the rare humans who had not yet been slaughtered or transformed, life was now nothing more than a long desperate flight. They no longer fought among themselves; they simply sought to survive one more day amid the horrors that saturated the air.

Lucifer walked through the rubble, his boots crushing shards of glass and metal. His long hair floated behind him. At his side, Aeshma advanced slowly. Her alabaster skin seemed to absorb the faint ambient glow, and her black silk dress, slit up to the hip, hinted at shapely legs and a silhouette whose perfection was an insult to the surrounding devastation. Her generous chest, compressed in a dark leather bustier, rose with the rhythm of calm breathing, while a menacing aura emanated from her.

Suddenly, a cracking sound rang out from under a pile of still-smoking beams, breaking the heavy silence that reigned over the ruins. A survivor slowly emerged from this tomb of charred wood, his face disfigured by mana burns whose purplish streaks still seemed to sizzle on his skin. He tried to crawl toward them with jerky movements, his limbs refusing to respond properly to his commands, while he stretched out a trembling hand in a desperate gesture. His mouth opened and closed, seeking to formulate a plea that would never come.

Lucifer stopped his progress. Instead, he briefly closed his eyelids and breathed deeply, then gradually released the control he exerted over his aura. The power of Fear, the very foundation of his power, then unfolded like a wave.

The consequences were not long in coming. The atmosphere around the dying man suddenly thickened, as if the air itself was transforming into a transparent and oppressive resin. The survivor’s pupils dilated, while his blood vessels burst under the pressure, tinting the white of his eyes with a scarlet red. He tried to emit a scream, but his vocal cords, subjected to unbearable tension, snapped with a dull sound, producing only a muffled rattle. His heart, unable to pump against this unspeakable force, suddenly stopped beating before exploding under the effect of the compression, sending a jet of blood from his wide-open mouth. This viscous fluid stained the ground littered with blackened debris. Then his body slumped, his fingers still curled in a final attempt to grasp something.

A leaden silence fell over the battlefield. Behind Lucifer, his companions held their breath, none daring to break this suspended moment.

"At this level, you have nothing left to envy the greatest Princes of the Abyss," murmured Aeshma.

"Humans are docile creatures when you take away their hope. Nevertheless, this continent no longer interests me. Chaos is established, colonization is complete. We have everything we needed."

"And therefore, we must leave," she agreed, placing a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder.

They resumed their walk to the devastated docks of an ancient trading port. There, moored to a half-rotten wooden pier, a black ship with wyvern leather sails waited. It was a vessel powered by monster cores, capable of sailing on seas saturated with demonic mana.

Once on board, the ship left the coast, plunging into the purple mist that covered the ocean. Lucifer stood at the prow, observing the dark waves that struck the hull with a dull sound.

"Konstantin..." murmured Lucifer, the name echoing like an enigma in the air heavy with salt and death. "Are you sure he will be where you claim?"

Aeshma approached him, her body pressing against his back, her firm breasts crushed against his coat. "I am certain."

The journey lasted several days through mana storms that tore the sky. The ship progressed with unnatural speed, slicing through the water like a predator. During the crossing, Lucifer and Aeshma spent long hours discussing their future plans.

Finally, a line of verdant coasts, but of a green too dark to be natural, appeared on the horizon. It was the southern tip of the elven continent. The air there was fresher, less corrupted than on the human continent, but one could already detect an electric tension.

"We are here," declared Aeshma, pointing to a stone structure that rose at the top of a cliff, surrounded by forests of millennial trees. "Konstantin’s lair."

The ship docked in an isolated cove. Lucifer and Aeshma descended onto the fine sand, then they plunged into the woods, following a path traced by mystical energies.

After a few minutes of walking, they arrived in front of a massive door engraved with complex seals. Before they could even knock, the door slowly pivoted on its hinges, releasing a smell of chemicals and pure mana.

A silhouette awaited them in the shadow of the hall. It was a man of imposing stature, dressed in a long mage robe dotted with stellar symbols. His face, marked by years and experiences, displayed an expression of curiosity rather than fear.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to reach my lands," said the man while examining them one after the other, his gaze sweeping their silhouettes from head to toe.

Lucifer took a step forward, his soles barely crunching on the stone floor. He plunged his pupils into those of the sorcerer, without blinking. Immediately, the pressure in the room changed: the air became heavier. The two men observed each other in a tense standoff.

"Are you Konstantin?" asked Lucifer, his voice low.

"In flesh and blood," replied Konstantin. He accompanied his words with a carnivorous smile, revealing white teeth. Then he tilted his head slightly to the left. "I admit I was expecting a more imposing entourage," he added. "So, what business do you have with this body?"

"We need your help to open the gates of hell," replied Aeshma as she advanced a few steps. "And you are the person we need."

Upon hearing this, Konstantin appeared surprised for a moment, not expecting that, then a smile formed on his face.