Over three millennia ago, a rift tore through the fabric of space and time, weaving together realms once separated by infinity. From its depths emerged a convergence of worlds, uniting beings of unparalleled diversity-Angels and Demons, Dragons and Kitsune, Sylphs and Centaurs, Mermaids and Humans, and countless others.

  For centuries, these races coexisted, their cultures intertwining in a grand symphony of life. Humans raised towering cities, their ingenuity shaped by the mystical energies now woven into the land. Kitsune refined their arcane arts, mastering illusions and phantasma while dwelling in the unseen corners of the world. Sylphs danced upon the winds, their whispers shaping the very breath of the realm.

  Through the vast forests, Centaurs and Dragons roamed as guardians and sages, their wisdom and archery unmatched. Beneath the waves, the denizens of the deep wove melodies so enchanting they could command the tides themselves.

  Their society was imperfect yet enduring, fragile yet resilient-a testament to the power of unity, where even in their differences, harmony found its place.

  But as time passed, Asmodeus, the Demon Lord, became consumed by an insatiable greed that drove him to expand his dominion over all races.

  Cunning yet ambitious, he knew he could not achieve this conquest alone. His first approach was to the dragons, recognizing their unmatched strength and wisdom. He sought their alliance, believing their might would be instrumental in his rise.

  Yet, the dragons, proud and unyielding, rejected his offer without hesitation. Asmodeus departed with a knowing smirk, certain that one day they would regret their defiance.

  Undeterred, he turned to the angels, only to be met with a similar refusal. However, as time passed, doubt and ambition took root within the celestial ranks. Led by Elyon, a powerful and influential figure among them, the angels reconsidered. No longer content to remain neutral, they devised a plan to impose their will upon the realm.

  With conquest in their hearts, they forged an unlikely alliance with Asmodeus. Together, they launched a devastating surprise attack, shattering the fragile peace and catching the other races off guard.

  The Sylphs, masters of the wind, unleashed tempests of unbridled fury, summoning storms that could rend the heavens. Hurricanes tore through enemy lines, and lightning crackled with divine wrath. Yet, even their might paled before the dark sorcery wielded by Asmodeus. One by one, their winds were silenced, their legacies teetering on the brink of oblivion.

  The Centaurs and Elves fought with unparalleled precision, their arrows infused with the primal essence of the land itself. Each shot found its mark, felling demons and angels alike. Yet, sheer numbers proved their downfall. Overwhelmed and outmatched, their resistance was shattered, and they were forced into subjugation.

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  Beneath the waves, the sea-born races raised a defiant symphony, their haunting melodies summoning colossal tidal waves and tsunamis to sweep away the invaders. For a moment, the tides of battle seemed to favor them, but their songs of resistance were drowned beneath the relentless hunger for dominance that consumed the enemy.

  The Humans, though mortal and seemingly fragile compared to the other races, proved to be the most relentless of all. Unlike the other factions, they did not rely solely on magic or innate gifts-they fought with ingenuity, strategy, and sheer determination. Wielding elemental forces with terrifying precision, they forged weapons imbued with fire, lightning, and ice, unleashing destruction upon the battlefield. Alchemists and war-mages wove intricate spells that turned the very earth into a weapon, while warriors clad in enchanted armor stood unyielding against the horde. But even with all their might, their resilience could only last so long. Against the combined onslaught of demons and angels, their forces dwindled, their cities reduced to smoldering ruins.

  The Dragons, ever watchful, had foreseen this day and met it with fury. They rained fire upon their foes, their roars shaking the heavens. With each swipe of their talons and every burst of their breath, they devastated enemy ranks. But when Ignis, the Dragon King, fell to Asmodeus's blade, their hearts wavered. Their leader's death was more than a loss-it was a wound to their very spirit. The once-proud dragons, unbreakable in their resolve, found themselves crushed beneath the weight of despair. With heavy hearts, they retreated to their sacred mountain, their ancient stronghold now a refuge from the darkness consuming the world.

  The Kitsune, wise beyond measure, understood the tide of war better than most. Knowing that victory was impossible, they vanished before the battle's final hour, their illusions and cunning ensuring their survival. Whether out of self-preservation or a plan yet unseen, their departure left a lingering question-had they abandoned the world, or were they simply waiting for the right moment to strike?

  The remaining creatures offered little resistance, swiftly falling under Asmodeus's rule.

  However, he had never intended to share power with the Angels. Once they had served their purpose, he betrayed them, wielding dark magic and the unwavering loyalty of his conquered forces to his advantage.

  Under Elyon's command, the Angels launched a counterattack, but they were hopelessly outnumbered and surrounded. Their resistance, though fierce, was short-lived and ultimately in vain.

  Defeated, Asmodeus exiled the Angels to the distant Isle of Eldrida-a rare display of mercy, perhaps even a trace of lingering fondness.

  With the celestial threat eliminated, he dedicated centuries to forging his perfect empire-one where he alone reigned supreme.

  Leaving no room for rebellion, he forced all races to bow before him, their cultures and traditions erased or left to wither in obscurity.

  Thus began the reign of the Demon King, an era shrouded in darkness and oppression.