Far beyond the northern barrier, where humanity's maps ended and the territories of monsters began, the world was vastly different.
The sky was perpetually dark.
Thick clouds stretched across the heavens, occasionally illuminated by distant flashes of crimson lightning. The land beneath them was a vast expanse of barren mountains, ancient forests, and desolate plains. Rivers of mana flowed through the earth, carrying an energy so dense that even the air itself seemed heavy.
It was a world where the weak were consumed by the strong.
A world where monsters did not merely survive through instinct.
They evolved.
They hunted.
They conquered.
And at its center stood a continent-spanning territory ruled by an existence feared by every monster beneath the heavens.
The King of Monsters.
***
Deep within the northern continent stood an enormous citadel.
It was not built by human hands.
