Year 214 -
Eight Hundred Years Ago
The world nearly ended.
It started when humanity summoned an ancient dragon to fight a demon from Hell. The dragon won the battle, but humanity broke their promise to it.
The demon survived. It bonded with a young girl and demanded one thing: make her humanity's new god.
Humanity refused.
Big mistake.
The girl led an army of undead across the world. Corpses rose from graves. Villages burned. Kingdoms fell. The living were enslaved, forced to build monuments to her power.
The sun disappeared. The sky bled red. Darkness covered everything.
No one knows why she did it. Some say it was for love. Others say the demon possessed her from childhood.
Either way, humanity was dying.
One man had lost everything family, home, hope. All of it, gone.
He knew about a forbidden ritual. A summoning that required his own blood, his own life.
In exchange, he would call forth the Blood Dragon Warrior.
With his last breath, he completed the ritual.
And the world answered.
The sky shattered.
Hell trembled.
The oceans roared.
Even the undead froze in terror.
From a mountain of corpses, he rose.
A dragon unlike anything the world had seen before.
Massive. Crimson scales. Wings that blocked out the sky. Eyes burning with ancient fury.
With one strike, he split mountains.
With one breath, he turned air to poison.
With every step, the ground cracked beneath him.
He tore through the undead army—thousands upon thousands fell. His power was overwhelming, unstoppable.
When he reached the girl at the center of it all, he ended her.
Just like that.
The undead army collapsed. The darkness lifted. The sun returned.
Humanity was saved.
But the warrior didn't stay. He vanished, leaving only scorched earth and a legend.
This is the story grandparents tell their children.
The myth of the Blood Dragon Warrior who saved the world.
But here's the thing about legends
They have a way of coming back.
End of Prologue