The news about the death of a demon king spread wide and fast throughout the world.
In the grand high-vaulted chambers of the human kingdoms, reports delivered by breathless scouts were met with stunned silence. Monarchs sat frozen upon their gilded thrones, the parchment letters trembling in their hands.
"Morcant... is dead?"
A veteran general whispered, his face devoid of color as he looked at the royal council.
In the capital of the Empire, behind tall iron gates where silver-armored paladins stood guard, the high council of the Holy Church gathered beneath the looming statues of their gods.
"The Red Ancient Disaster... slayed on a dirt road?"
"Is the news true...?"
"There's just no way, right?
Priests in embroidered robes murmured in hushed, panicked tones, their sacred scriptures falling to the floor. The holy relics, which usually hummed with divine radiance, flickered weakly as if reacting to the dark seismic shift in the world's power hierarchy.
