A commotion was erupting in the Kallad kingdom located in the south regions of the Grandiel continent.

“M-milord! We’ve received news that the demons are planning to takeover Galvane, and use it as a foothold to invade the rest of the continent!” A messenger said, kneeling in front of the king seated upon his throne.

“That damned Volheilm! He promised me the continent!” King Kallad Hien Balor the 7th’s fist fiercely smashed against the armrest of his throne. His anger numbed the throbbing pain he felt in his hand.

“It’s been five years since his supposed decisive victory! Look where we are now! If the demons succeed, the target of their hatred will be aimed at us!” King Kallad’s anger was evident, spittle flew from his mouth in his tensed rage.

“Aren’t immortals supposed to be the most powerful beings on the planet? They aren’t deserving of their reputation!” The stalwart King’s tirad continued unceasingly.

The knight’s stationed across the throne room twitched nervously about their King’s comments about immortals.

Before anyone within the room noticed, a figure appeared standing next to the kneeling messenger, directly facing King Kallad.

The figure appeared incredibly feminine, despite being a male, garbed in completely white robes. Skin as white as snow, long white hair flowed down his back. He gave off the air of an intellectual scholar with his gentle appearance and closed eyes. Perhaps some would mistake him as a priest or a saint if not for the sword hung at his waist.

King Kallad momentarily stilled at the uninvited guest, before mouthing off, “W-Who the hell are you?! How’d you get in MY throne room?! Guards, seize him!”

The two knights standing beside King Kallad’s throne moved at the order, instantly appearing in front of the priestly man. They unsheathed their swords and raised them high into the air, and-

They paused.

A thin red line appeared on both of the knights’ necks. They were both beheaded, and nobody in the room was able to follow how it happened.

“A-an immortal!” someone in the room yelled.

Everyone froze. The knights lined across the room began shivering. They no longer dared to act. Whether the priestly man was an immortal or not, they didn’t care. They saw both of their King’s elite honor guards killed without even being able to react in a mere moment. They weren’t even able to see how it was done, and they knew. They knew the futility of it all. If that priestly man wanted them to die, they would without a doubt, die. They wouldn’t even be able to buy time for their King if they tried to obstruct him. Honor? Valor? Worthless. It was all worthless in front of the overwhelming strength before them.

The messenger standing next to the saint was so terrified that he pissed himself.

The priestly man’s eyes were still closed. They were eternally closed, never to be opened again. He was blind. He himself had gouged his own eyes out of his own free will decades ago, when he had, “Witnessed the ugliness of the world.” He had seen enough. He no longer wanted to see this vermin-infested world.

“In the name of Paragon, I will purge the world of all vermin,” the priestly man chanted softly.

Though his voice was quiet, almost whispered. It sounded clearly within the silent confines of the throne room. Everyone present was able to hear him.

King Kallad was shocked as the realization dawned upon him, “L-Lord immortal! P-Please forgive my prior rudeness! My uncultured self was unable to realize one as great as you!” King Kallad hastily and nervously said. The King’s fierce demeanor was instantly replaced with a servile countenance. The change happened so quickly and perfectly, that others would be unable to tell unless they were present to witness his prior behavior.

He had heard those very words countless times from Volheilm, and was easily able to make the connection between the two. They were both immortals affiliated with one another. His reasoning told them they were both members of the same rumored guild- Paragon.

“I am the leader of the immortal guild, Paragon. You’ve no need to fear the demons to the North, as they will not be a threat to you,” the leader quietly said.

“F-Forgive my insolence in asking, but how is lord immortal sure of this?” King Kallad managed to squeak out in his nervousness.

“Tis’ because this continent still exists because I allow it to,” the leader of Paragon responded, before vanishing from the throne room, leaving everyone present dumbfounded.

“H-Hahahaha Ha…” King Kallad nervously laughed, as if he had gone insane.

“Who said immortals aren’t deserving of their reputation?! I will have that fool beheaded!” King Kallad shouted loudly. The remaining knights in the room looked at one another, unsure of how to respond to or how to appease their King.

A Holy Crusade? How could a war last that long with the backing of an immortal guild like Paragon? The answer was that it couldn’t. It had only been allowed to go on that long by the will of Paragon’s leader. The emotions of those grieving the loss of their loved ones gave him power, and the easiest way to do this was, of course, war. Unending wars, a chain of hatred that perpetuates wrath. As long as there were wars, and survivors of a war, this chain would never be completely broken.

The leader of Paragon was no longer an immortal, but a demigod. He had overpowered and devoured a fragment decades ago at the moment of his betrayal, gaining the memories of the previous demon god, and his soul had only recently consolidated to become approximately 14% that of a god’s.

“Raphael… I will absorb you before long,” he whispered to himself.

To reach his goals, he had to enter the Heaven Arena to meet with Raphael.

Becoming a full god. Gaining control over the world. Creating a “Cycle of Wrath.”