As with every tale of fantasy, demons were not known for kindness.

If they were, they would never have been called demons in the first place.

Wherever their feet touched, the land became cursed—marked for domination, ruin, and despair.

And such was the fate that now loomed over Novice Village #666 unless its inhabitants saved themselves, they would all be consumed.

The mechanical ding echoed across the skies of New Eden.

A large panel unfolded above every village, casting its letters like a divine decree.

A world announcement.

*Ding*

[The Demon Race has successfully invaded Novice Village #666]

[Special Quest has been triggered!]

"Demon race?" a player in another village muttered, confusion etched on his face.

"It's nothing more than a village-wide quest," ArashiKage cut him off curtly.

ArashiKage's eyes remained locked on the beast he was hunting. "Focus. Don't let it distract you."

To the casual eye, he looked calm, unaffected. But that was a lie.

He cared.

He cared far more than anyone around him realized.

Because Novice Village #666 wasn't just another random name flashing in the skies of New Eden.

It was the very village where the so-called Khan resided.

ArashiKage's chest tightened.

His fingers trembled slightly as he gripped his blade, though he quickly masked it with a scoff.

'What kind of miracle will you pull this time, Khan?'

Curiosity burned in his eyes. Worry lingered in his heart.

Most players across New Eden reacted with apathy.

Why should they care about another village's misfortune when it had no bearing on their own rewards?

But soon after, the announcement split into two.

A second message appeared, visible only to those in Novice Village #666.

[Special Quest : Stop the Invasion]

[Rewards will be distributed according to performance points.]

The ominous words lingered in the skies for minutes before fading, leaving the players to process their meaning.

Some clenched their fists, fire igniting in their hearts.

Some slumped, dejected—especially those who knew their characters were weak.

And many more stood frozen, uncertain whether they were strong enough to survive what was coming.

******

Somewhere in a random novice village.

"Did you see—"

"Of course I saw it!"

The second voice was venomous, filled with enough rage to make the speaker's neck veins bulge.

He was Kiran, the guild master of Grand Nexus.

"That fool, Silva… He failed again."

Kiran's face was burning red as he exhaled slowly, practicing a series of breathing exercises to keep his anger in check.

The news had reached him swiftly that Silva had not only failed but dragged their guild's name into the mud in the process.

"That bastard has turned us into a laughingstock," he seethed.

His guild members scattered around the room, nervous under the oppressive weight of his fury.

One unlucky soul dared to speak.

"Sh-Should we… go?" the member stuttered, voice barely above a whisper.

"I-I believe that if we can be transported there, we can also earn rewards while completing—"

*Bam*

Kiran's boot connected with his cheek, sending him crashing through a table.

Wood splintered everywhere.

The guild leader's lips curled into a mocking sneer.

"Ohhh, so if we can also be transported there, we can earn rewards?" he mimicked in a childish tone before letting out a dark chuckle.

The truth was, that guild member wasn't entirely wrong.

Silva had worked with the demons to open the portal into Village #666, but no one, not even Silva, had fully understood how the mechanism worked.

Now that Silva and his group were defeated, there was no guarantee that Grand Nexus could even replicate the feat.

And besides…

"Obviously we can't just appear there," Kiran said coldly, brushing off his cloak as he sat back in his chair.

"If we suddenly show up without Silva's guidance, those demons might mistake us for enemies. Then what? We'd be slaughtered alongside the villagers."

As much as he lusted for rewards, Kiran wasn't foolish enough to throw his people into a battle blind.

The demons' strength was an unknown variable, and rushing in blindly would be suicide.

As he leaned back, a cruel smile spread across his face.

'It would gladden my heart so much if Khan were to just die in this invasion.'

******

(Novice Village #666)

The air grew heavier with each passing second.

The sun already sank below the horizon, shrouding the world in creeping darkness.

Every player could feel it.

Crawls along their skin.

A shiver down their spines.

Mages lit fireballs and conjured glowing orbs to push back the shadows.

Warriors tightened their grips on their weapons, trying to summon courage.

Rangers climbed to higher ground, positioning themselves to rain arrows and bullets when the inevitable battle began.

*Ding*

A new set of status panels blinked before their eyes.

When the players read them, their faces drained of color.

"My God…"

"H-How… how are we supposed to fight these?"

The weakest demon was Grade 1.

Their levels ranged from 10 to 14, and even more.

Players swallowed hard.

Even grouped up, it would take everything they had just to slay one or two of these demons.

Unfortunately, there weren't just one or two demons.

There were hundreds.

An army.

And these were not ordinary monsters.

Some demons hovered on spinning whirlwinds, riding the wind like steeds.

Others had bodies made entirely of molten rock, their every movement spilling fire.

Several crackled with lightning, sparks sizzling across their limbs as if they wore thunder as armor.

Some were twisted beyond recognition—a grotesque mix of flesh and bone that made the weaker players gag at first sight.

The army of hell had arrived.

And yet, none of them attacked.

They stood waiting.

For what?

For who?

The silence was suffocating.

The tension was unbearable.

Then…

A sound ripped through the skies.

*Shhnnkk*

A jagged black slit tore across the sky like an open wound.

Slowly and agonizingly, it widened.

It resembled a devil's maw, each edge lined with crooked fangs.

From that rift, something stepped forward.

Its weapon gleamed the moment it caught even the faintest light.

A single shing echoed, as though the world itself acknowledged the blade's presence.

And then the creature itself emerged.

The players froze.

Their hearts pounded in their chests like war drums.

It was not the grotesque monstrosities that had preceded it.

No—this being stood tall, humanoid in form, but exuding an aura so heavy it felt like gravity had doubled.

Its skin shimmered faintly, darker than midnight.

Its horns curved backward like a crown.

In its hand, a massive glaive pulsed with demonic energy, each movement of the blade leaving streaks of black energy in the air.

The moment its gaze swept over them, dozens of players felt their knees buckle.

Fear invaded their minds.

The demons standing in formation below behind dropped to one knee in reverence.

This was no ordinary invader.

This was their commander.

And the silence that followed was worse than any roar.

Because silence meant it wasn't time to fight yet.

It was time to despair.

The suspense was killing.

And it had only just begun.

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