The entire planet of Valtoryn began shaking as a strange power descended on the realm. All 7 continents began trembling, the 4 oceans of Planet Valtoryn rumbled as if something old and powerful had awakened…
[Elven Continent]:
In the Elven Continent, the place where Elves ruled and Nature thrived, tall trees rose high alongside magnificent palaces that seemed to co-exist in unparalleled beauty with the nature around them. But, at this moment, the people of the Elven Continent felt a deep rumbling beneath their feet, some confusing it for an earthquake, which, for their continent, was very rare. That was, until they felt the power causing the rumbling beneath the planet. It was dreadful and… unnatural, in their eyes.
At that very moment, within the grand halls of the Elven Royal Palace, where the noble high elves of the royal family resided, fear gripped the hearts of many. Yet, among them, only a rare few remained steadfast—so few that they could be counted on a single hand. Foremost among these resolute figures was the current Elven Emperor. Seated in a meditative position, his expression remained calm and serene, a stark contrast to the trembling of his people. Though his eyes remained closed, he subtly turned his head toward the distant Human Continent, as if sensing the unfolding events beyond his kingdom's borders.
"So… a new monarch has emerged?" the Elven Emperor mused, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the weight of certainty. "No… this presence feels… incomplete. They have not yet fully awakened."
His fingers hovered in the air for a brief moment before settling once more, as if tracing unseen threads of fate. His expression remained impassive, yet beneath his closed eyelids, an ancient wisdom stirred. "When they do awaken… the balance of power among the great races will shift. That much is certain. And yet…" He exhaled slowly, the very air around him seeming to still in reverence. "No. It is not time—not yet. Far too early."
The palace walls trembled, distant voices of fear echoing through its grand halls, but the Emperor remained undisturbed. As though detached from the chaos of the world itself, he simply resumed his meditation, his presence alone a bastion of calm amidst the storm.
[Dwarven Continent]:
In the subterranean depths of the Dwarven Continent, where the most powerful forges smelt the finest metals, a sudden tremor rippled through the earth. The dwarves, with their innate connection to the land, felt the quake more acutely than others, their hands stilled in their work as the ground beneath them shook. The energy accompanying the tremors was undeniably powerful, both dark and majestic in its presence. Fear spread quickly through the forge halls, but the Grand Forge King, untouched by panic, paused only briefly. His gaze turned toward the Human Continent, his expression unreadable.
"A powerful presence," he murmured, sensing the raw strength from afar. Despite the growing unrest among his people, the Grand Forge King remained calm, the slight rise of his brow the only hint of curiosity. "Not the strongest monarch's presence I've felt," he remarked indifferently, "and certainly not fully awakened, but still noteworthy." The air around him felt thick with the weight of his words, but his thoughts quickly moved elsewhere.
With a single motion, he sheathed the blade he had just forged, its edge gleaming with expert craftsmanship. His mind, already calculating his next move, shifted focus entirely from the tremors to his work. "As long as they don't interrupt my forge, I'll leave them to their own devices," he added, his tone flat but resolute. The chaos outside had no bearing on the task at hand.
Without hesitation, the Grand Forge King returned to his masterpiece, the hum of the forge filling the air as he focused on his next creation. Time held no sway over him—his work was eternal, always pushing the boundaries of his skill. Each strike of the hammer, each molten pour of metal, was a testament to his relentless pursuit of perfection, and nothing—no disturbance, no tremor—could distract him from his craft.
[Demon Continent]:
In the land of the Demons, where the denizens of the Demon species thrived in the most dreadful of kingdoms, the tremors that shook the earth went unnoticed by most, except for a few who found themselves intrigued rather than fearful. For the Demonfolk, fear was an alien concept, one that flickered only briefly in the hearts of the weak. In their culture, fear was something to be discarded as a fleeting, mortal emotion—something they deemed unworthy of occupying even a fragment of their minds. To them, the power that stirred the planet was an anomaly, not something to fear, but something to understand, something to exploit. Fear was for prey; demons were hunters, not hunted.
In this brutal land, only the strongest survived, for strength was the currency of power. The strong had no need to fear the unknown, for they knew that no force could topple them if their might was supreme. Weakness was not tolerated; it was stamped out by the very nature of their society. Here, power ruled, and only those who wielded it with absolute certainty were allowed to carve their place in the world. Fear, to them, was not a survival instinct—it was a scent, the smell of prey, the moment before the hunt.
In the most imposing and dreadful of castles, looming atop jagged cliffs and surrounded by an endless wasteland, the Infernal Overlord sat on a throne built of bone and wickedness. The air was thick with an oppressive energy, a constant reminder of the cruelty and dominance that defined the Demonfolk. From their seat of power, the Infernal Overlord surveyed the realm, their form cloaked in darkness, their eyes gleaming with a wicked light. With a slow, deliberate turn of their head, they focused on the distant Human Continent, a grin spreading across their face. "So it begins," they murmured, their voice low and dangerous.
"Perhaps it is time to pay the Human Domain a visit?" the Infernal Overlord mused aloud, their tone carrying the weight of impending doom. "They may prove interesting now, with such new powers rising… After all, this realm won't conquer itself." Their grin widened, as if the very idea of a new challenge was already beneath their notice. But then, with a shift in their gaze, the Demon Lord turned their attention elsewhere. "But first…"
The Infernal Overlord's eyes glinted with dark amusement as they leaned forward. "I've got such plans to employ, such toys to toy with," they chuckled. "His Unholiness plans to arrive soon. Perhaps I should prepare by finishing the conquest…"
[Dark Continent]:
In the Dark Continent, where evernight thrives, two of the continent's greatest powers dominate: the Vampire Kingdoms and the Dark Elf Domain, also known as the Shade Kingdoms. One might assume that these two mighty domains would be in a constant state of war, but in truth, their relationship has been far from hostile. For over seven centuries, they have maintained an alliance, the longest lasting on the continent of Valtoryn. This unusual harmony has allowed both sides to thrive, united not by necessity but by mutual respect for each other's strength.
As the tremor rippled through the capital of the Vampiric Kingdoms, the Blood Queen of the Vampires slowly opened her eyes, her gaze piercing through the distance toward the Human Domain, her mind racing with thoughts.
"A new monarch…?" she mused, her voice tinged with intrigue. "They're not fully awakened… and yet, ironically, they don't feel human. This energy... it feels similar to something I've sensed before. No, it's much weaker, far from what I would expect from a monarch. Yet, it warrants investigation. If the humans have truly birthed a new leader, then the balance of power among the continents is at risk, no matter how... non-human this energy may feel."
Vampires were predators, born for the hunt, driven by the kill. Unlike the demonkin, they did not dismiss the weak with disdain, but they held one unshakable belief—success, in all things, particularly in the hunt, was paramount. This unrelenting belief was the foundation of their reign as apex predators, a force to be reckoned with in the world of Valtoryn. And as the Blood Queen, the supreme ruler of the vampire race, she embodied the pinnacle of this philosophy. She had fought demons, beasts, humans, and even the great beasts of the Northern Continent, although that encounter was brief, yet unforgettable.
"If the balance has truly been disturbed…" The Blood Queen shivered, her thoughts clouded with foreboding. Shaking her head, she stood, her crimson cloak swirling around her. "I hope I'm wrong, but if I'm not… no, I'm certain I can handle this. Lord Dracula must be informed of what's transpiring. Once I've learned the truth, I'll report to him."
Turning as she exited her chamber, her voice cut through the silence, a low, dark murmur. "I've heard some humans have found their way into our territory—by Dracula, I can't wait to get a taste."
Meanwhile, in the Domain of the Dark Elves, where the darkness was so profound it seemed to devour all light, a palace of blackstone and moonlight stood in the heart of the land. The Shade Matriarch of the Dark Elves, renowned for her silence and focus, maintained her meditative position, speaking softly to the empty hall before her.
"That's a significant amount of Nether energy…" she whispered, her pale white eyes flickering open. "Looks like Lord Ashenborn was right to send me here." Her voice, though soft, carried the weight of her authority and experience. "I will complete my mission. I'll contact Lord Ashenborn soon—very soon—but first, I must investigate this disturbance, ensure it's as serious as it feels."
With a subtle movement, the Shade Matriarch vanished into the shadows, her form blending seamlessly with the darkness around her.
[Draconic Continent]:
In the Land of the Dragons, where the most powerful of draconic species roamed, the tremor that shook the very earth was little more than the softest brush against the skin, barely noticeable to the mighty Wyverns and ancient Dragons. These beings, born with divine potential and granted immortality through the passage of time, had little reason to fear the disturbance. After all, they were destined to reach such heights of power in the coming millennia, and a mere tremor seemed like a fleeting inconvenience—something easily ignored by those who could claim such grandeur. For dragons, a millennia was but a blink in the eternal passage of time, and fear was a concept reserved for those who hadn't yet ascended.
The Draconic Overlord, the undisputed ruler of all dragons, was no exception. With the subtlety of a creature who had long mastered the art of indifference, he opened his eyes for a brief moment, a faint flicker of awareness crossing his mind as he sensed the disturbance. Yet, in a show of regal composure, he closed his eyes once more, dismissing the tremor as inconsequential. With a deep, knowing sigh, he sank back into the slumber of eternity, unconcerned by the events unfolding far below him. The world might tremble, but for the Draconic Overlord, it was all a part of the slow, inevitable march toward supremacy.
[Human Continent, Theo's Position]:
Theo and Chief Jacky watched on as a portal of the dark abyss of darkness and green flames the size of the whole village opened up directly below them, and, from its depths, a giant, three-clawed hand came out, digging into the earth in a vice-like grip. Slowly, the monstrous being from the Abyss arose from the emerald flames and the abyssal darkness.
The chieftain's face drained of color as his body shook uncontrollably, the weight of the creature's presence crashing down on him like an unrelenting storm. "W-what is this?" he stammered, his voice laced with a mix of horror and disbelief. The pressure emanating from the creature was so overwhelming that it felt as though it could end his life with the mere flicker of its gaze. "What have you done?! What monstrosity have you summoned from the very depths of Hell?!"
[Ding! Host Has Summoned Cosmic Humbaba!]
The ground shook with a thunderous roar that seemed to reverberate through their bones.
"ROOARR!"
The beast was five meters tall, with clawed hands with three fingers each. It had the head of a lion with skin as thick as scales, as if made partly of draconic might, sharp teeth like razor blades and 4 protruding canines like sabertooth tusks. It was easily the height of the tallest tower; this beast was muscled and fierce, easily giving off the aura of an ascended monstrosity with a look that filled the part. It was a giant... something, and, as it roared like the most dreadful tyrannosaurus rex on steroids, Theo checked its stats.
[Inquire]