The streets of Valerion never seemed to change.
They were always bustling, always lively. A beautiful, thriving metropolis wrapped in high walls, brimming with tall spires and polished roads. A place where the power and pride of the empire gathered—and all of its filth too.
Valerion was a melting pot of culture, magic, art, commerce… and crime. The Valtheron imperial family ruled from its heart, and even the holy temple had its headquarters here.
It was, by all accounts, one of the largest cities in the world.
And it was in the slums of this so-called jewel that a wretch like Damon Grey had earned the name Phantom.
He was a lowly, pathetic thing back then. Small but proud. Bitter. Jaded. His ego didn't help either—not when he was so weak. But still… he refused to shut up. Refused to lie down and accept it.
He knew—if he were the main character of some story—the audience would probably be disgusted by how small-minded he was.
But that was fine.
