The war's end marked the beginning of humanity's darkest era. Demon forces occupied human territories, enslaving countless humans.
Val, Jasper, Warcry ruled with iron fists, their brutality unmatched.
Captives were subjected to unspeakable tortures. Men were flayed alive, their screams echoing through the dungeons.
Women were raped and brutalized, their bodies broken and discarded.
Children were forced to witness the atrocities, their minds scarred forever.
One captive, a young woman named Vlara, endured unimaginable agony. Her nails were ripped out, her skin branded with hot irons.
She begged for death, but her tormentors merely laughed.
A month passed, the occupation's grip tightening.
Demon King Viraskas emerged from his stronghold, his presence commanding attention.
"My dear demons," he declared, his voice thundering across the square. "Our victory is complete. Humanity is broken."
The demon crowd roared, their cheers echoing through the conquered city.
"I shall soon declare the next heir," Viraskas announced, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "On the upcoming new moon, our future leader will be revealed."
The crowd's excitement grew, speculation spreading like wildfire.
Val, Jasper, Warcry exchanged glances, their faces expressionless.