Facing Extinction

Myre of Demons, Middle Realm.

"Mother, I am back."

Lon entered the small hut, carrying a boar in both of his hands. Alir, his mother, greeted him with a warm smile.

"Leave it by the kitchen, and go clean up. You stink of rot."

He followed her command and placed the carcass on the floor.

"Did you find anyone?"

Arli asked in a solemn tone. Lon's expression changed.

"Seven humans, zero demons."

He grabbed his horns.

2.3 billion

That was the total number of humans and humanoid races that currently existed within the middle realm.

1.2 billion humans.

200 million elves,

700 million dwarves.

150,000,000 dragonkin

40,000,000 Titans

And finally, 10 million demons,

Humans had kingdoms all over the continent.

The Elves were the Protectors of the Forests.

The Dwarves were the shapers of Earth.

The Titans were employed and cherished by the other races for their power.

The Dragonkin ruled the skies, adored by everyone for keeping their lands safe.

Demons were all but extinct, as they were considered to be Evil Incarnate.

The Demons were scattered throughout the continent in small groups, living in areas that were either too dangerous to live in or as prisoners of war for other races, cultivated to be slaves for the rest of their lives.

The irony of the situation was that the birthplace of Demonkind, Myre of Demons, was now part of the territory of one of the weakest human kingdoms around.

Alir stood up and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"He promised us We just have to wait. "

Lon clenched his fist.

'It has been 11 years, mother. He is not going to come back!'

He wanted to say it to her face. But he couldn't gather the courage to do so.

"I have to clean up."

He moved away from her, letting her hand fall off his shoulder.

Alir could sense his agony, but she chose to ignore it.

'Patience.'

It wasn't a choice. It was their only hope.

'He will be back. He cannot leave us alone.'

Lon walked out of the hut with a wooden bucket in his left hand and a brown cloth in his right.

"The barrier seems to be working well."

He looked at the locket around his neck. A small silver-horned demon with glowing eyes and sharp fangs.

Taking a seat on a rock, he dipped the cloth into the bucket and started to wipe the dirt off his body.

I can't just sit here and hope that my people will survive.

The faces of all the humans that he saw during his hunt flashed in front of his eyes.

Killing them would be so easy.

All of them were weaklings. All of them were insects in comparison to the demon warriors that he was acquainted with as a child.

He twisted the cloth as hard as he could over the bucket to squeeze all of the muddled water out.

"If only we could use magic..."

Humans were physically inferior to demons and had shorter life spans than all the other races. Fortunately for them, their kind was extremely adept at wielding magic, which was usually restricted to one element per person. Elves had an affinity with nature, meaning that they could control multiple elements with mediocre mastery over each of them. Dwarves were the masters of creation but had no control over elemental magic. They used enchantments to grant themselves the powers of the other races, as well as runes to strengthen their weapons. Titans and Dragonkin had little talent for magic, but had exceptional physical strength on par with one another. The only major difference between them was that dragons had a physique built to fly, while Titans were barbarians with bodies harder than the strongest element in this world, Mithril. All of these boons were thought to be blessings from their respective gods.

"We are weaker than Titans and Dragonkin. They have little to no knowledge about crafting and are useless when it comes to magic."

All of these thoughts continued to wander aimlessly through his mind, never actually leading on to anything except for one question.

"Were we created by the gods to suffer?"