One month before the Emperor's declaration of the Hell Fortress expedition.

  Plestoria Village, on the outskirts of the Litrian Empire.

  The night sky was deep and dark. A silence that swallowed even starlight enveloped the village.

  Windows were tightly shut, and the village was immersed in quiet slumber. Only occasional dog barks revealed traces of life.

  Even those sounds soon ceased.

  Like a harbinger of death, everything grew quiet.

  Thump... Thump... Thump...

  Dull footsteps echoing from the distance. The ground trembled. At first, it was a subtle sound like a breeze brushing against leaves, but as the vibrations grew stronger, the village windows began to tremble slightly.

  The sound was no illusion. It grew louder, approaching the village. The crescent moon symbol carved on the stone by the village well glowed faintly.

  Bang!

  The darkness in the forest exploded into red flames. From within those flames, massive figures slowly revealed themselves. Along with the smell of burning wood, the stench of rotting meat swept over the village.

  Muscular, large bodies. Metal-like gloss shimmered over their bumpy skin. In the flames, blood-red eyes glared at the village.

  They carried axes and maces already soaked in blood. Droplets of blood from their weapons stained the ground.

  "Orcs! The orcs are attacking!"

  A scream tore through the night. At that sound, the entire village awoke. In an instant, the peaceful night transformed into a cauldron of terror.

  Red eyes flashed. Their breathing was rougher and heavier than beasts.

  "The orcs let out a thunderous, guttural roar!"

  They charged forward. Each time their hard, hoof-like feet stomped the ground, the earth shook.

  One orc swung a massive axe. Instantly, the fence was shattered. Wooden fragments flew in all directions.

  A broken wooden piece flew and struck the forehead of a man who was looking out the window. A dull sound of bone breaking echoed. Flesh tore, and bright red blood sprayed.

  "Aaaaagh!"

  A scream erupted. That sound amplified the terror of the people around. Children's cries mixed in.

  The face of an old man clutching the window frame instantly turned pale. His wrinkled hands were trembling.

  "This is a sign of the Dominator..."

  He murmured. His voice was faint like leaves swept away by the wind.

  A woman holding a child locked the door with trembling hands. But the bolt did not latch properly.

  The village blacksmith tried to stand against them with a hammer, but an orc's mace caved in his chest. Blood fountained from his mouth.

  Roofs collapsed, wooden pillars fell. The village was instantly engulfed in chaos. Screams and cries mixed together. Groans of pain echoed from all directions.

  Smoke and the stench of blood spread through the air. Flames swirled against the backdrop of the black sky.

  It was a night when hell opened.

  The peaceful daily life of Plestoria Village instantly transformed into a nightmare.

  At the village square's well, the crescent moon symbol glowed red. As if stained with blood.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  ＃＃＃＃＃＃＃＃＃＃

  A sharp scream tore through the night. Ermin's eyes flew open. His heart was pounding madly. His shirt was soaked with sweat.

  Gasping for breath, he looked around. The smell of burning hung thick in the air. His throat felt constricted.

  Turning his eyes toward the window, he saw flames devouring the sky. Within the red flames, massive figures were trampling the village. The sound of the trembling ground echoed in his ears.

  "Ermin! Get up quickly!"

  His mother burst through the door. Her face was deathly pale, her hands trembling. Fear tinged her voice.

  "We need to go to the stable!"

  His father's urgent cry was heard. His voice was rough, as if scorched by smoke.

  Ermin, led by his parents' hands, rushed outside hurriedly. The cold night air brushed against his face. It felt colder in contrast to the heat of the flames.

  But the village was already a red hell. Screams and wails mixed together.

  Flames consumed houses, and orcs wielding bloody weapons struck people down. The smell of burning flesh stung his nose. That smell seemed like it would be forever etched in Ermin's memory.

  "Aaaaargh!"

  A man fell, struck by an orc's axe. Fresh blood scattered into the flames. Ermin closed his eyes, but the scene was imprinted in his mind.

  The orc burst into beast-like laughter, seeking its next victim. That laugh sent chills down Ermin's spine.

  "Father, where's Mother?!"

  His parents were preparing a horse. But Ermin shook his head at their command to get on the horse. With fear and confusion mingled, he shouted.

  "I can't go alone!"

  "We must stay here."

  His father was resolute. In his hand was an old but heavy broadsword. The blade flashed in the firelight.

  "You must go to Karanos. You must inform the Emperor of this. Otherwise, the empire will be in danger."

  "But...!"

  Slap!

  His father's hand struck his cheek. A stinging pain spread. Ermin's eyes wavered.

  In his father's gaze was a mixture of determination, fear, and deep sorrow. Ermin sensed farewell in that gaze.

  "You must survive, Ermin."

  His mother, sobbing, caressed his face. Her hands felt cold. Her trembling fingers touched Ermin's hot cheek.

  Something seemed to tear inside his chest. Clenching his hands tightly, he mounted the horse.

  As his father struck the horse's hindquarters, the horse dashed into the night, breaking through the flames. Behind him, horrific sounds—breaking, tearing, screaming—all mixed together.

  Ermin tried not to look back, but instinctively turned his head. At that moment, his world collapsed. Time seemed to stop.

  His parents were completely surrounded by orcs. His father raised his sword high, but a massive orc threw a noose, strangling his neck.

  His mother tried to shield him, but cruel hands grabbed and threw her. Her body flew like a doll, hitting the wall. Their screams cut through the night air, piercing Ermin's ears.

  "Father! Mother!"

  Ermin's cry scattered into the void. Tears streamed down his cheeks. His vision blurred.

  At that moment, the orcs' roars from within the flames tore through the night sky. The sound startled the horse, making it run faster. The wind whistled past his ears.

  Ermin gripped the horse's mane tightly. Along with the village receding behind him, his childhood also disappeared into the flames. A seed of vengeance began to sprout in a corner of his heart. It was small but solid.

  When he looked back at the retreating village for the last time, he saw a crescent moon symbol flashing within the flames.

  ＃＃＃＃＃＃＃＃＃＃

  Karanos, the capital of the empire.

  A massive silver moon hung in the night sky. Its cold light gently illuminated the city.

  Warm lights flickered in every window, and the square was submerged in silence. Leisurely footsteps crossed the streets, and somewhere, soft flute music flowed.

  But to Ermin, all of this appeared like a grotesque illusion. In his ears, the orcs' roars and the villagers' screams still echoed. In his nose, the smell of burning flesh and blood remained.

  It had been a hellish journey. Three horses had collapsed, and after the last horse died, he had to walk for two more days. Blood-soaked and staggering, he rushed toward the city gate. His breathing was rough, and his heart was pounding as if it would burst. Pain shot through his entire body with each step.

  "The orcs have come! Plestoria was attacked!"

  Ermin's desperate cry spread through the night air. Fear and urgency mingled in his voice.

  The soldiers looked up in surprise. Tension flashed across their faces. The spears in their hands gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

  Royal guards on patrol rushed over urgently. Their armor clashed, making sharp sounds. That sound overlapped with the memory of the orcs' weapons in Ermin's mind.

  "What did you say? Plestoria?"

  The soldiers' faces froze. Anxiety and doubt crossed their eyes.

  "Please relay this to the Emperor! If no measures are taken, the empire will be in danger!"

  Ermin's breath was drawn in sharply. His entire body was trembling.

  Just then, armor clanked. As people made way, a man stepped forward. His presence alone made the surrounding air heavy.

  Guard Captain Lord Sharlos. His intense gaze fixed on Ermin. At that gaze, Ermin momentarily shrank back. The Helios emblem engraved on his armor faintly glowed in the light coming through the window.

  "Take this child to the Regent Minister!"

  As the order fell, soldiers immediately supported Ermin and headed toward the imperial palace. Ermin walked, stumbling, relying on their arms. With each step he took, blood splattered on the marble floor.

  His heart was beating madly. His legs were already at their limit, but Ermin pressed forward, squeezing out his last strength.

  Now he had to testify about hell before the Emperor. In his mind, images of the burning village and his parents' final moments flickered. Those memories made him stronger.

  ＃＃＃＃＃＃＃＃＃＃

  In the center of Karanos, within the sealed meeting room of the imperial palace.

  Windows draped with black curtains. Shadows danced along the walls as flames flickered in the grand fireplace. The smell of burning wood deeply colored the air.

  Figures surrounding a massive circular table. Though the empire's core members had gathered, only the sound of suppressed breaths was occasionally heard.

  Regent Minister Neo Padris. Silently, with fingers interlocked, he picked up the report. His temple twitched slightly.

  "A symbol of two overlapping crescent moons?"

  A low, deep voice crossed the room. At those words, the knight commander's hand brushed against his scabbard. His leather gloves clashed with metal, making a sharp sound.

  Neo's gaze turned toward an old map above the fireplace. His black gloves paused in mid-air, then pointed to a spot. The tip of his finger trembled slightly.

  "Do you know when we last saw this symbol?"

  Someone swallowed, and someone else clenched their hand so tightly that blood vessels stood out. The temperature in the room seemed to drop suddenly.

  The dark magic that disappeared long ago. The only trace they left was as clear as the blood-red mark on the map. That trace, as if alive and moving, was slowly crawling toward Hell Fortress.

  Neo's expression hardened. Deep shadows fell over his eyes.

  "This is not a simple invasion."

  Thud!

  As the flames in the fireplace flickered, the shadow suddenly grew larger.

  Neo rose from his seat. The Guard Captain's armor rattled and shone. Resolute determination was etched on his face. His jawline hardened firmly.

  "I will request an audience with His Majesty the Emperor."

  Everyone in the room rose in unison. The sound of chair legs scratching the marble floor echoed sharply.

  As the meeting room door opened, cold night air seeped in.

  ＃＃＃＃＃＃＃＃＃＃

  The massive golden door opened quietly. A sense of heavy, solemn air seeped through the doorway.

  The Emperor's grand audience chamber. A magnificent chandelier cast a resplendent glow, its crystal ornaments shimmering and scattering prismatic light across the vaulted ceiling.

  Seated on the throne, Emperor Arthur William. Despite his young age of nineteen, his golden eyes gleamed as cold as glaciers.

  He slowly gripped the scepter adorned with golden decorations. The platinum lion's claws were imprinted on his palm. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as if in pain, then quickly relaxed.

  A breathless silence filled the chamber.

  Arthur William's voice resounded resolutely. That sound filled the room, making everyone's heart race.

  "Prepare for the Hell Fortress expedition."

  Everyone in the room knelt in unison. It was a pledge of loyalty and determination.