In the Fallen Realm, where everything was shrouded in a thick, oppressive mist, a familiar figure entered a massive castle.
It was the same tall man who had ordered the two Demon Servants to investigate Slar's death and determine exactly what had happened.
Drak's expression was dark and furious as he strode toward the throne at the center of the castle's largest hall. He wore nothing but a pair of dark trousers, leaving his muscular upper body completely exposed. Surrounding the throne were countless exquisite objects and treasures collected from various worlds, but Drak paid none of them any attention. The moment he reached the throne, he swept his arm across a nearby table, sending everything on it crashing violently to the floor.
A dark, bloody whip mark stretched across his back, still bleeding as pulses of sinister energy traveled through the wound.
"Damn it!"
His roar echoed throughout the castle.
