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Abyssal Chronicles

In the northern part of the world, a long-standing battle between various races and the demon race has finally reached its end. The Demon Lord, a figure with black hair, red eyes, rules from her obsidian palace, having repeatedly defeated the Goddess, the strongest being in the world. However, she refrains from killing her, knowing she will only be reborn to lead another attack. As the goddess kneels before her, badly injured and helpless, the sounds of explosions echo outside, signaling the imminent victory of the alliance. Despite her immense power, the demon lord acknowledges the demon's overall weakness compared to humans and the Alliance. The development of fighting energy and mana has allowed ordinary humans to fight demons, leading to the demon army's defeat. Aware of the Alliance's intent to enslave the abyssal demon, the Demon Lord decides to cast a forbidden spell that will cost her life. As the Alliance forces storm the palace, they hesitate upon sensing the spell's energy. The Demon Lord vows to resist and be reborn to save her people. Meanwhile, the goddess reflects on the demon lord's past treatment of her and acknowledges her respect and dedication to her people. As the demon lord prepares to cast the spell, the goddess asks if she can abandon her plan and live freely. However, demon lords are duty-bound to restore the demon race's glory and protect her people. Understanding the demon lord's resolve, the goddess readies her sword, intending to clash with the demo lord's forbidden spell. The resulting explosion creates a mushroom cloud, marking the end of the conflict and the start of a new era. The Demon Lord and the Goddess become historical figures, their stories occasionally told.

Hail_The_loli · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
1004 Chs

Chapter 318 : "..." [2/2]

 

Meanwhile, in a northern region of the Ancita continent, not too far from the Great Winter Forest, a customary act of robbery was quietly unfolding within a forest less traveled.

 

Amidst splattering blood and chilling cries of despair, a small merchant caravan succumbed to a band of mountain brigands.

 

Their loot, along with the plundered goods, was swiftly hauled back to the thief's den. The skirmish ended, the looters retreated, and soon, the path was engulfed by a profound silence once again.

 

All that remained were the wreckage of the caravans, nauseating trails of blood, and scattered body parts.

 

But just when serenity seemed to have taken over, a stack of hay nearby started shaking.

 

A figure clad in black cautiously peeked out, looking left and right. Upon confirming that the bandits were gone and the coast was clear, he finally stepped out, walking on tiptoes to the wreckage of the caravan.