The cliffs stood like the jagged teeth of a dead god, impossible and unkind. No grass dared grow near the edge; even the wind seemed thinner here, stripped of warmth and life. The stone was black-red, veined with mineral stains that glimmered faintly like dried blood under moonlight.
Far below, the Death Cliff breathed mist upward in restless clouds, swirling in shapes that never settled.Rumors said the gorge had no bottom, that sacrifices never hit ground—they simply vanished into waiting darkness.
At the center of the cliff platform was an ancient altar carved directly from the rock, circular, uneven, brutal in shape.
Today, at the Death Cliff of the Empire, the kingdom gathered in restless silence. Crowds of civilians flooded the stone arena like a storm-driven tide, eager yet uneasy, for it had been ten thousand years since demons were last seen in these lands—ten thousand years since ancient horrors had walked the mortal realm
The spectacle's center was none other than the so-called 'good-for-nothing' lady—daughter of the Empire's greatest general—branded a disgrace, reduced to nothing but a sacrificial pawn.
Legends described the demons as cruel, bearded, and merciless beings, driven by bloodlust and primal brutality.From within the empire's grand cathedral, a church clerk emerged, voice trembling yet loud enough to cut through the tense silence.
"The hour of execution has arrived!" he declared
.Carried by temple attendants rather than walking by choice, a blue-haired girl was brought forward, her pale form illuminated under fractured moonlight. Her skin was light and crystalline, almost unreal in purity.