Black Tiger God was sweating buckets, his eyelids dripping like curtains of water. "This time, it’s not Quinn who brought disaster—it's me. I lost Quinn. How am I supposed to explain this to the lord… I’m doomed!"
Quinn looked around. He found himself in a desolate, barren land—so empty it defied imagination. Huge planets floated in the sky, some near, some far, all broken and lonely.
He stood in a vast marsh, feet on the water’s surface. In the distance, flames flickered and burned atop the water. Quinn had no idea where he was.
All around, demonic energy drifted like mist over the marsh.
Furylo!
Quinn called out loudly, "You’re the elder. If you’ve defeated me, why not show yourself?"
No answer. It was as if only Quinn remained here.
Quinn frowned and walked forward. Suddenly, his foot struck something brittle. He looked down—he was standing on a rotting corpse, likely a demon, long dead.
Quinn hesitated, then looked ahead. Corpses—demons—floated everywhere in the marsh. There were too many to count. Demon fire burned on the bodies, and bits of wood and grass drifted by, probably remnants of collapsed houses.
No sun in the sky, only those broken planets.
Suddenly, streaks of fire-serpents tore through the sky—hundreds of them, racing toward him. They were fragments of shattered planets, each as big as a mountain, crashing down!
Quinn tried to dodge, but it was too late.
Boom!
A deafening roar filled the air as terrifying flames surged, like monstrous waves and hurricane winds, swallowing him whole.
Quinn stood amidst fire and wind, unharmed. The terrifying waves crashed toward him, but some strange force shielded him. Yet the corpses in the marsh were obliterated, turning to ash, their twisted remains scattered by the wind.
In an instant, the marsh dried and cracked. Quinn hadn’t recovered from the shock when, suddenly, a broken planet hovered overhead, raising a terrifying tide.
Amid thunderous crashes, a wave taller than Sumeru Mountain rolled toward him. The ground split open, volcanoes erupted, and pillars of fire soared between earth and sky.
Lightning flashed in the sky. Quinn watched thousands of volcanic pillars swept away by the monstrous wave. Countless bolts of lightning were swallowed up as the wave crashed over him—this was a force he couldn’t possibly resist!
Quinn braced himself, but the strange force shielded him again. The wave split, leaving him unharmed.
After the wave passed, everything was calm again. The marsh reformed, and countless demon corpses floated on the water once more.
"A strange place…"
Quinn steadied himself and walked forward, realizing Furylo had dragged him here—not to kill, but to leave him stranded. Furylo must have a plan.
He moved with unprecedented speed, crossing the wasteland. Along the way, he faced terrifying disasters—tides, earthquakes, storms, volcanoes, shattered planets—all threatening to destroy this world.
"Your Majesty!"
Suddenly, a demon god descended from the sky, bowing: "Your Majesty, the altar is complete. Please give the order."
Quinn was startled—the demon god bowed respectfully, apparently unaware Quinn was human.
"Mm." Quinn replied vaguely, "Lead the way."
The demon god led the way. Soon, they reached a massive city, where thousands of golden altars towered like mountains. Demon gods stood atop the altars; countless demons knelt on the stone steps, awaiting sacrifice.
"Your Majesty, our world cannot last much longer. Please give the order!" another demon god pleaded, eyes burning with hope. Quinn nodded vaguely.
Countless demons knelt on the stone steps, raising knives and slicing off their own heads. Blood flooded the altars.
A chorus of voices rose in the demon tongue. Quinn understood—they were praying, sacrificing themselves, seeking a way for their race to survive in a new world.
As the solemn chant echoed, the golden altars blazed with light. Pillars of energy shot skyward, tearing the heavens apart, opening a passage to another world.
The membrane between worlds dissolved, and another world gradually revealed its true form.
Quinn looked up—there it was…
High-Emperor Heaven.
He lowered his gaze, staring into the water, which reflected his face like a mirror.
In the reflection, he had three faces, ears growing from the back of his head, sharp pointed ears visible.
He was the master of this dying world—the Demon Sovereign.
Furylo.
Quinn looked up. Before him was a magnificent, sorrowful scene—like a painting, fading and burning away.
The illusion faded.
In the flames, Furylo—three-faced—bathed in fire, walking toward Quinn.