Prologue:
...It was a difficult time, I know we will never forget. Those days when hell dressed in black and darkness took over the beautiful city of waters and transformed it into a sea of blood.
Screams in every alley. Vile and fearful shadows at every corner.
Your freedom had been taken and guarded by the towers—Pristella had been taken by this vile force.
We tried to resist. We formed a useful resistance against the attack of the invaders. It was a defeat.
Exhausted, wounded, dead and defeated were all those who fought for the freedom of the city, its residents and the candidates for the throne.
The biggest scandal this world has ever seen since the Witch.
And how could it not be? Their offspring persisted with the same destruction and chaos. Yes, it was them, the Witch Cult.
The worst of the worst beings. They took over the city and spread their chaos and twisted fun.
Evil were declared by the four powers of the world.
And there was war.
There was a lot of war. There were months of incessant ambushes in na attempt to decimate the Cult.
And nothing.
When the greatest of warriors, Reinhard Van Astrea, was sent flying into the air, as high as any man could ever dream of reaching, and did not return, it was declared the greatest of defeats.
And little by little the other nations stopped helping the Kingdom.
The Empire withdrew its efforts.
"That is a matter for the Kingdom," they said.
The Holy Kingdom of Gusteko has closed its gates once again.
"There is nothing that can be done."
The last to leave us was the City-State of Kararagi, which soon lost valuable resources in its tiring struggle and declared a pause.
"I'm sorry, Lady Roshin."
It seemed like there would be no salvation. Every corner of the world was worried about the Witch Cult and fortified their borders and focused on their own leaders.
The hopelessness was growing.
It seemed like the end for the Draconian Kingdom of Lugnica.
Although...
It was in this hopelessness that "he" appeared.
Submerging from the waters of destruction, a warrior appeared who could only be described as legendary and ruthless.
Emerging from the shadows of despair, he turned his fury on the Cult.
There was darkness in his eyes, I saw it when he killed the archbishop who held me captive.
As the embodiment of the hatred and disdain we felt for the Witch Cult, that man advanced and with his sword tore apart skulls and bones.
As the pure embodiment of the hatred for the Cult that we felt in our hearts, he charged forward like a true demon and killed one by one, every member of the Witch Sect.
It seemed like the pure justice of God on earth.
And on that day, one man extinguished all evil in one fell swoop.
...And he was gone forever.
I still remember. We all remember.
And it's already been 1 year since this historic event in humanity and in our lives...