The pace of events quickened, and a catastrophic clash was on the verge of erupting.
In the east of the Ultras Continent, in one of the Lower Bloodlands, there stood an ancient city erased from the annals of history .. its name was Yharnam.
Once a flourishing and advanced city, time had shown it no mercy, leaving behind nothing but ruins.
Amidst the devastation and wreckage, a lone man sat waiting, beneath a dead tree that once served as his only shade.
The Human Demon, Dragoth, contrary to his usual savage nature, appeared genuinely calm this time.
He wore a long black cloak, a massive greatsword resting on his lap.
His crimson eyes had been staring at the ruins for quite some time. The place was peaceful, with a soft breeze gently playing with his long black hair.
The Human Demon stared for long at his birthplace. Destruction, rubble, and death—these were all that remained of this land.
