[The First Day of Destruction, 7:45] [The Holy City of Kami Miyako]
Kami Miyako. The Metropolis of the Gods.
Situated in the fertile northeastern riverlands of the Slane Theocracy, the city was a jewel cradled by the natural world. To the west, the Great Mountain Range formed an impregnable shield of stone; to the east, the vast expanse of the Inland Sea glittered like a mirror reflecting the heavens.
According to the sacred texts, this was the "First Land." Six hundred years ago, when humanity was little more than cattle for the dragon lords and beastmen, the Six Great Gods descended upon this very spot. They carved out a sanctuary, granted humanity magic, and established the first laws of civilization.
It was not merely a capital; it was the heart of the human race.
Covering a massive expanse of land, the city was home to nearly 2.5 million souls, a population density unthinkable in neighboring nations like the Kingdom or the Empire. It was a testament to six centuries of stability and divine protection. Pilgrims from every corner of the nation flooded its wide, paved avenues daily, seeking blessings beneath the shadows of the six colossal cathedrals that dominated the skyline.
Here, human supremacy was not a theory; it was a breathing reality. The architecture was majestic, white stone polished to perfection, free of the grime and poverty that plagued other human cities.
But today, the white stone seemed to have turned grey. A heavy, suffocating pressure hung over the metropolis, an invisible fog that dampened the usual vibrant noise of the markets.
[Market District — The Gilded Ledger Merchant Company]
"The price of grain has risen again, hasn't it?"
Marcellus, a merchant of considerable standing within the capital, stared at the parchment in his hands with a look of nausea. He dealt in textiles and magical artifacts, a trade that relied heavily on international stability.
"It's not just the grain, sir," his assistant, a young man named Hannes, replied nervously. "The trade routes from the north... they've gone silent. Since the Re-Estize Kingdom fell, no caravans have come through. And the Baharuth Empire... well, ever since they became a vassal state of the Sorcerer King, the tariffs for Theocracy merchants have become strangled."
Marcellus slammed the ledger shut. "It's an encirclement. Don't the Cardinals see it? That Undead King isn't just a monster; he's a merchant's worst nightmare. He controls the food from the Kingdom's old territories. He controls the magical ore from the Dwarves. And even controls the Empire's military might."
He walked to the window of his office, looking out over the bustling market street. Usually, the sight of the pilgrimage crowds brought him comfort; crowds meant customers. But today, the crowds looked different. They were huddled in groups, whispering. The City Watch was patrolling in double strength.
"There are rumors, Hannes," Marcellus lowered his voice, though they were alone. "Travelers from the south say the Elf King fell. They say the Sorcerer King's banner was seen near the Great Forest."
"Surely the Scriptures will handle it, sir? They always do."
"Do they?" Marcellus wiped sweat from his brow. "My contacts in the logistics department told me they were ordered to stockpile preservation crystals. Not for trade. For evacuation supplies. And yesterday... I saw the vault of the Fire Temple being emptied."
Hannes paled. "Emptying a temple vault? But that's..."
"That's fear," Marcellus whispered. "The Cardinals are scared. And if the Six Cardinals are scared, Hannes, what does that make us?"
Marcellus looked at his warehouse, filled with expensive silks that might soon be worthless. He felt a primal urge to liquidate everything, to buy a wagon and run to the southern desert. But he knew, deep down, there was nowhere to run. The world was shrinking, and the shadow of the Sorcerer King was swallowing it whole.
[Temple District — Cathedral of the Earth God]
Lucina, a Junior Priestess of the Earth god, hurried through the marble corridors, clutching a stack of purification talismans.
The atmosphere in the Cathedral was usually one of serene contemplation. Today, it was a hive of frantic, hushed activity.
"Sister Lucina! You are late!"
A Senior Priest scolded her as she turned a corner. "The ritual preparations must be completed before dusk!"
"I apologize, Father!" Lucina bowed deeply. "I was... I was delayed by the crowds near the Inner Sanctum. The Windflower Scripture has blocked off the main avenues."
"The Scriptures are doing their holy duty. Do not pry," the Senior Priest snapped, though Lucina noticed his hands were trembling as he adjusted his vestments.
Lucina continued her duties, but her mind was a whirlpool of confusion.
For the past three days, strange things had been happening in the capital. The High Priests had been holding emergency meetings that lasted until dawn. But it was the "Selection" that terrified her the most.
She had seen it earlier that morning. Men in the dark uniforms of the Special Intelligence unit were going door to door in the noble districts and the high-ranking clergy housing. They weren't arresting people. They were collecting them.
"Only those with high aptitude," she had heard a guard whisper. "Only the bloodlines with potential."
Lucina had seen a family of four being escorted into a black carriage. They weren't crying; they looked confused, clutching only small bags. Where were they going? Why were only the talented being taken?
It felt like... Noah's Ark.
(Are they abandoning us?) The thought was heresy, but it wouldn't leave her mind.
She walked past the entrance to the heart of the Earth God, the restricted area. She saw a flash of light in the distance, followed by a tremor that shook the dust from the ceiling.
"An earthquake?" a nearby acolyte gasped.
"In the holy city? Impossible," Lucina replied.
But then she felt it. A wave of mana. It felt cold, slimy, and infinitely malicious. It washed over her skin, making her want to vomit. Not only that, but it wasn't the warm embrace of the Six Gods. It was the chill of the grave.
"Sister..." the acolyte grabbed her arm. "Did you feel that?"
"Pray," Lucina whispered, clutching her holy symbol. "Just pray. The Scriptures are here to protect us. The gods are here. Nothing can breach the Inner Sanctum."
She looked out the window at the setting sun, unaware that it would be the last sunset this city would ever see.
[Inner Sanctum: The Eye of the Water God]
The sun had vanished. The massacre was over.
The Eternal Death stood amidst the carnage. The pool of holy water was now a thick sludge of red, filled with the dissolved remains of the Miko Princesses and the priesthood.
At the Undead's feet lay the broken bodies of the Black Scripture's finest. Clemence, the First Seat, lay face down, a hole in his back, breathing shallow, ragged breaths. Valerius, the Sixth Seat, was unconscious, missing two limbs.
"Mission Phase One: Complete," the Eternal Death rasped.
The space beside the pool warped. There was no sound, no flash of light, just a sudden presence that stepped out of the shadows.
It was a figure clad in darkness, radiating an aura of pure menace. It was a Shadow Demon Lord, a Stealth specialized level 80 monster.
"Report," the shadow hissed.
"The target Downfall of Castle and Country was not present," the Eternal Death reported, kicking Clemence's unmoving form. "However, the 'Pursuit Curse' has been successfully planted on the primary threats, the Fleeing Survivors."
"Acceptable. Lord Ainz anticipated their cowardice."
The Shadow Demon Lord gestured. From the darkness behind it, two Hanzo mercenaries emerged. They moved with silent efficiency, grabbing the unconscious bodies of Clemence and Valerius.
"We are extracting the samples," the Shadow Demon Lord said. "The Supreme One desires to study the physiology of the God-kin. Do not damage them further."
"Understood"
"I hear and obey the orders of the Supreme One"
"And my orders?" the Eternal Death asked.
The Shadow Demon Lord reached into its inventory space. It pulled out two objects.
The first was a small, intricately carved hourglass filled with black sand that seemed to absorb the surrounding light. The second was a crystal sphere containing a swirling vortex of green, necrotic gas.
"The Supreme One is displeased," the Shadow Demon Lord said, handing the items to the skeletal warrior. "The Theocracy has chosen to hide. Therefore, we will burn their hiding place."
The Eternal Death took the items. Its purple eye-flames flared with sadistic delight.
"Use the Hourglass to widen the area of affect and dimensional lock," the Shadow Demon Lord instructed. "Then release the Sphere and awaken the Toxic Mist of Niflheim. Do not grant them mercy in swiftness, stretch each heartbeat until time rots in place. Let unseen flames advance with quiet certainty, their warmth arriving before their light. Smoke will coil down their throats, stealing breath, drowning cries, hollowing hope. Their hands will shake, their chests will tighten, and in the end, they will understand fear is no longer around them, but alive within."
"And?"
"The Terror and Panic will generate more negative energy."
"And more negative energy will fuel the Sphere's power."
"Understood."
"Make it loud. Make it bright. Draw the rats out of their holes."
The Shadow Demon Lord and the Hanzos stepped back into the shadows, dragging the hope of humanity with them into the darkness.
The Eternal Death was left alone in the silent sanctum.
It walked to the balcony of the destroyed temple. Below, the lights of Kami Miyako were twinkling on, oblivious to the fact that the reaper was already standing on the roof.
The Undead raised the crystal sphere.
"Let the harvest begin."