Shadow Hill Mountain rose from the earth like a blackened fang, jagged and unforgiving, its peak lost in clouds that never seemed to part.
Fifty kilometers from Luna City.
Fifty kilometers from the port where Erza's grief had frozen the ocean and shattered the sky.
The locals knew this place well enough to stay away.
Parents whispered warnings to their children.
Travelers took the longer road.
The mountain had a reputation, and reputations like this one were earned in blood.
Beneath the mountain, hidden from the sun and the eyes of the world, there was a cave.
Not the kind of cave that adventurers explored or tourists photographed.
This one was vast enough to swallow an entire city, its tunnels winding deep into the earth like the roots of some ancient, dying tree. It was a fortress. A home. A prison. It was where the Demon King's forces had made their lair, and they had been there for centuries.
The locals knew the stories.
