The shockwaves of Adonis's declaration did not stop at the borders of the Western Continent. Like a stone cast into a still pond, the news of the Dragon Emperor's rise rippled across the Great Oceans, reaching the frozen peaks of the North, the shifting sands of the South, and the ancient, soaring forests of the East.
The recording crystals had done their work too well. The image of the violet-eyed King, standing before a Cthulhu-like horror and a Goddess of Darkness, was now the only topic of conversation in every tavern, barracks, and palace in the world.
In the Fernis Kingdom, located in the lush Central Continent, the atmosphere was full of tension that felt like a physical weight.
King Magnus sat atop his high throne, his fingers drumming a frantic, uneven rhythm on the gilded armrest. The reports on his desk were not just dire, they were impossible.
"A Demon Emperor?" Magnus muttered, his voice cracking with a mixture of disbelief and growing terror.
