Beneath the floating academy, the world drowned in blood and fire.
Villages burned to ash. Kingdoms crumbled. Nations tore themselves apart in endless, senseless war.
Champions from other worlds carved through the continent like butchers through meat. They conquered cities for sport. They enslaved armies for resources. They claimed territories like children collecting toys.
This wasn't heroism. This was divine entertainment. A sick game where gods placed their bets and mortals paid the price in corpses.
And the scoreboard kept climbing.
At now the gates of Veldora, an army made their final stand.
Soldiers lined the massive stone walls, hands trembling on their weapons. Archers nocked arrows, knowing death marched toward them. Cannons were loaded, aimed, ready to spit fire and fury at the approaching nightmare.
One hundred champions from the same world advanced in perfect formation. Men and women from another world, their eyes burning with purpose that transcended sanity.
