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The 'Graveyard of the Fallen' was the name of by far the deadliest dungeon in the mountains near the Devil Forest, a dungeon that rooted deeply within the mountains and into the abyss of the underground, a place formed by the immense contamination of Mana over a graveyard where many tribes that lived once in the mountains fought for territory and resources.

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However, such a story once told within the Bear-kin and Harpy Tribes, the only two tribes that survived this ordeal is not the complete truth. It was not the complete truth mostly because both of these tribes were unaware of the things that were unfolding within such dungeon.

Something way beyond their understanding, something that involved not just mortals or monsters.

The birth of a Demon God.

Although such battle that happened in the past is a mere tale now, it was a fact, an event that did partake in such age and time, but was mostly influenced by forces within the shadows, an entity that was dwelling within the backstage as it glanced at the tribes slaughter each other, a wicked being that had come from another place and had found this place ideal for its plans.

By using its manipulative forces and its ability to draw power through the emotions of the living, while being able to slowly erode the minds of those with strong emotions, the creature slowly orchestrated the war between the tribes by purposely staging events where the tribes would slowly grow hate with each other.

Things such as killing one of the children of the chief of a tribe and then leaving evidence that blamed another tribe were its daily routine, after just a few months, the tribes waged war against each other incessantly not just for resources or territory, but due to hate and resentment over the atrocities that each tribe thought that the other did, completely unaware of the entity within the shadows that slowly moved the strings, carefully doing everything as it planned.

"Beast-kin are truly just beasts… how easy can they fall by such things?" he thought at that time, laughing as the foolish beast-kin tribes slaughtered each other by his wicked plans set perfectly in motion through the time and effort.

Setting in motion such terrible event where thousands died, the corpses of the fallen and their blood covered the mountains, their resenting souls became dead spirits, wailing in rage and frustration, as the mana around began to transform such emotions, corpses, and dead spirits into undead after several years, and through such converged energy, an enormous dungeon slowly grew within the place where the war unfolded.

There, this being made his home, the plan it had created and staged, where many died was simply so he could find a place to dwell in where he would find himself comfortable with, amongst the dead and the thick miasma across the entire dungeon. The being quickly took over the dungeon through his powers and became its self-proclaimed ruler, ruling over an ever-growing horde of Undead.

The maliciousness and wickedness of such acts seemed to know no bounds, having planned such terrible incident by using horrendous and underhanded methods, he had managed for the tribes to slaughter each other and die for his selfish cause, only to create the dungeon where he needed his plans to begin in motion.

This entity was not a mere mortal, nor a mere undead. It was not as simple as it looked, this creature was a fragment of a being that once looked down at mortals with fury and monstrous tyranny.

He was but a piece of him, but a piece was enough for all of this chaos to unfold itself within a few hundreds of years. The fragment of a monstrous creature that ruled over Death and the Demon Gods with a steel fist, fragmented into pieces by its sworn enemies that defied its values and what its nature and wickedness striver the most for.

The entity still could clearly remember those days as it was cut into pieces by the damned Light and Dark Gods, and he could also remember well all those despicable Demon Gods that once sworn allegiance to him turn their backs as they escaped and later on came back only to grab his fragments for their own desires and purposes.

He had become but a tool that the Gods used to fight and thrive through their wars, completely forgotten even in name, as even the fragments of his self were simply renamed by the ones that destroyed him into pieces.

But being destroyed into pieces did not mean that he died. No, he was alive. Entities such as himself and many others were incapable of dying, those that had touched godhood possessed immortal souls that could withstand time and even the deadliest of powers, they would fall into slumber, they would weaken, and they would often never wake up again for thousands of years, but they would be still alive, Gods were simply immortal, and even their weakening and sealing would not bring their doom no matter how much others tried to do so.

However, he was capable of bringing the true end to these beings, he was capable of slaughtering their very beings, to fragment their very selves, to bring an end to their souls, to their immortal beings. The destruction of souls that brought upon the demise of many foolish Gods who attempted to dethrone him from his earned place over other Demon Gods, and which also brought an end to those commanded by the Bright and Dark Gods, while weakening severely the leaders of these groups too.

He was the entity most feared by everyone in Kritias, yet he was now reduced to fragments, aiming to converge into one once again while being forced to become tools for the damned bastards that did this to him, he was filled with rage and frustration, but he could only wait and plan… He was nothing but another of these fragments, whose mind had been awakened through the parasitizing of a Demon.

Due to chance… or perhaps even fate, its new host possessed special qualities and a tasty soul, enough for the fragment to not only become a berserk beast but to bring upon the lost will of its original self, at least by a small, tiny piece.

But this small, tiny piece was more than enough to unfold several plans across its new life, as it slowly built upon a new foundation and a new place for it to stay and slowly forge a path back to godhood.

But how long would it end up taking? The entity needed more than just time but resources, the resources of negative emotions, countless dead spirits, miasma, undead, worship, and faith. These were the ingredients that it well knew could bring it back into the stage, to shake the world once again while gathering its fragments and reclaiming its supreme sovereignty over Kritias.

Since its 'awakening' that the fragment had been looking for such pieces, for such ingredients, and one by one it had gathered them all into its hideout, within the forgotten mountains near the Devil Forest, although he was in the continent of its sworn enemy, due to its previous actions, not even the Bright Gods could do much other than to wait for their strength to recover, and not even Bestellen was capable of doing much as of now thanks to Razdall's attack.

It was his time to take over the world again, it was its time to finally take back all that it deserved… He planned and planned, brought upon the demise of countless foolish mortals, and used their bodies and souls as resources for its end goal, sacrifices for such entity were absolutely nothing, he was more than capable of slaughtering, even more, to simply bring his goal a few more steps forward into fruition, a true monster without any shred of humanity, he was simply immersed into his wicked selfishness to the point that nothing else mattered other than itself and its desires. Not even Bestellen was this monstrous, as he still cared about Humans, however, this entity dismissed everything other than itself, a despicable existence.

He had settled the war, the corpses and the dead came easily by then, and then the mana formed the miasma, and then the corpses, spirits, and miasma brought upon the perfect nest for its incubation.

And by abusing something that mortals enjoyed in this new age, the System, whose his moral vessel was capable of possessing, he raised in power faster and faster, skyrocketing without stopping over the many years… The cultivation of its own soul into something greater was soon to happen, it simply needed to bring the quality a bit higher to finally reach the goal set…

But just as it was about to reach a breakthrough in the resource that is most needed to rise back to godhood, Mana, it found itself in a bottleneck.

"Ungh… No…! Just in this time…" muttered the entity, as its phantasmagoric blue soul was about to break through its limits, it suddenly weakened and went back to its vessel…

"Agh! Damn it all! Do I need more?! Then… We will make good use of the tiny tribes I have left thrive up until this point… Azra, prepare the troops! Be useful to me once and for all and bring both tribes for me! If you do well, I might let you join me when I finally achieve my goal," said the entity with a cracking and dry voice, as a young bear-kin man with dark hair and aquamarine eyes wearing black robes kneeling before his skull throne nodded.

"Yes… My lord,"

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