Deep within the woods, where the twisted trees gave way to a barren field of withered grass, the earth began to tremble—softly at first, then with an eerie rhythm. From the cracked soil, glowing runes carved themselves into a vast circle, flaring to life in pale blue light. The air rippled. A portal tore open.
From the rift stepped a figure cloaked in a robe darker than midnight. His face was hidden, save for two eyes—deep crimson, like embers still burning in a dying world. They scanned the field with quiet hunger.
"Ahh… what a delightful scent," the figure said, his voice soft as a silk-but heavy with power. "A world yet untouched by demons."
He grinned, revealing sharp teeth beneath the hood, and pulled it back to unveil his true form—a demon in the shape of a man. Raven-black hair fell to his shoulders, and his skin was flawless, statuesque. His physique mirrored that of a fallen god—tall, muscled, and exuding power. But it was his eyes—ruby red and filled with ancient malice—that betrayed the truth.
"Finally," he muttered, stretching his arms and cracking his neck. "Took me long enough to decipher those ancient portal runes. The Demon Realm has become… tedious. Let them squabble over ash and ruin. I'll carve a new kingdom here."
He flexed his hands, feeling the pulse of this world's mana—different, raw, untamed.
"Time to celebrate." A cruel smirk crossed his lips. "Let's feed."
Valon—Primordial Demon, destroyer of cities, devourer of souls—spoke a word of power. "Status."
A glowing glyph shimmered before him, lines of runic script translating themselves into readable text:
Name: Valon
Race: Primordial Demon
Strength: 150
Magic: 75
Agility: 120
Skills: Warp, Dominate, Eyes of Dread, Growth, Mana Sense
Spells: Dark Flame, Warp Blade, Soul Bind, Regeneration, Primordial Form
"Tch." He clicked his tongue, inspecting the list. "Lost a few things in transit. Of course. The mana here must be of a different quality." He stroked his chin, pondering. "I'll need to recalibrate."
On his native world of Abaron, demons learned to mold mana into quantifiable stats—a convenient method for measuring one's strength. He formed the interface himself, not granted by some divine gift.
"Imagine," he said with a dry laugh, "a world where some benevolent system spoon-feeds you power-ups and items just for walking in a straight line. I should be so lucky."
He turned toward the north, though no reason guided him. "First step: information. Then conquest."
The forest welcomed him with silence, broken only by the crunch of dead leaves underfoot. But soon, a rustle in the underbrush made him halt. Before he could activate Mana Sense, two dire wolves slinked from the shadows. Silver-furred and feral, one stood nearly four feet at the shoulder; the other, slightly smaller, growled low and steady.
Valon's lips parted in anticipation. "Perfect."
In a blink, he vanished—and reappeared beside the larger wolf.
BOOM.
His fist crashed downward like a meteor, tearing through fur, flesh, and bone. Dust billowed. When it cleared, his arm was buried in the wolf's carcass, the creature already dead with a crater beneath its broken body.
He withdrew his hand, gore dripping from his knuckles. The smaller wolf, snapping out of its stupor, lunged. Without so much as a glance, Valon snatched it midair by the throat and squeezed. The snap of bone was muffled, almost pitiful.
He let the corpse fall.
"Too easy."
As he turned to leave, a pale orb of light rose from the slain wolf—a soul. Glowing faintly, it hovered above the body like mist on moonlight. Valon stepped forward, eyes narrowing with curiosity.
"Come here…"
He hovered his hand over it, and the soul was drawn in, absorbed into his core. Willing its power to reinforce his physique, he spoke another spell.
Strength: 151
"Hmph." His tone was bitter. "So little for such effort."
Still, it confirmed what he suspected: even the monsters of this world were no match for him—not yet.
He looked up, red eyes glowing.
"Oh, the fun I'll have with this world…"
As the sun began to set beyond the treeline, casting long shadows over the grass, a quiet malice settled in the air. The mortals of this world lived their lives unaware, blissful in ignorance.
They did not know.
But soon… they would.
The end was nigh.