Above the quiet rooftops of Annasi Town, the sky was cloaked in a sinister shade of black.
Thick, rolling waves of smoke surged across the heavens like an ominous tide, painting the air with dread. The fog wasn't natural—it pulsed with malice, carrying the dreadful aura of spellbeasts, the type of presence that could make even experienced warriors falter. It was dense, oppressive, and soaked in a putrid stench—raw blood, rotting flesh, and something older, fouler… like ancient hatred reborn.
The air grew heavier as the black smoke thickened. It wasn't long before several currents of it began to twist together. Within that chaos, powerful silhouettes started to emerge—spellbeasts of tier-6 and above, their monstrous forms hidden by the fog yet impossible to ignore.
Among them, tension rippled.
Then a cold voice broke the silence.
