Arithea, is a world that is full of mystery, a world full of wonderful things, and a place protected by gods. It is nicknamed the god's world as gods live here before with their physical body and interact to the dwellers of the world as if they are equal. It is the time of peace up until 5000 years later when one figure shows up to disrupt the order and wreck havoc to humans and gods.
For the next 500 years, screams of people begging to be spared echoed to the streets that used to be lively. Gods perishing after fighting the mysterious person named Malvek, the Black Saint. Every gods he slain emits a strong beam of light indicating he destroyed it's physical and spiritual body. The world is at the brink of destruction, but there is one brave soul that stepped forward and clashed with Malvek which echoes along the continents, they fought endlessly, weeks, months, years passed by yet the winner is yet to be decided.
The loud echoes of clash suddenly vanished, and the two looked at each other and talked for a bit.
"How such a mere human like you can equal me with strength, we've been fighting for years yet it seems you're not affected by overload of magic"
The hero replies "I am blessed by those gods who perished because of you Malvek, it's time to end this madness you've caused to this world"
"A question, what is your name, warrior?"
"You are not worthy to remember my name full of honor, I don't want your evil mouth calling my name"
"Heh, such arrogance, let's end this shall we? I still got 757 million humans to slaughter"
For a fraction of a second, the Black Saint's guard faltered. Seizing the moment, the hero unleashed a radiant, prismatic beam of light that pierced straight through Malvek's form.
A fleeting sigh of relief escaped the hero's lips—but triumph vanished in an instant. A malevolent, crimson radiance erupted from Malvek, violently pushing back against the hero's spell. With both combatants pouring every ounce of their remaining soul into their magic, the volatile forces collided, triggering a cataclysmic explosion. The resulting shockwaves tore across the continents, shattering entire kingdoms and extinguishing millions of lives in a heartbeat. In the wake of the blast, a suffocating silence blanketed the ruined world.
The survivors dared to hope it was over, but the nightmare had only begun.
A thick, obsidian smoke boiled into the skies, blotting out the sun. Before anyone could flee, the smog pulsed with an eerie inner light, descending upon the surviving humans like a living, sentient curse. One by one, those caught in its embrace twisted and warped, their flesh reshaping into hideous, unrecognizable creatures.
The blight spared nothing. Plunged into perpetual shadow, Arithea's peaceful seas churned into treacherous, black waters, while the beasts of land and wave mutated into ravenous abominations. The world's natural balance was utterly shattered.
Yet, a fragile hope flickers still. Far from the ash and ruin, hidden away from the creeping smoke, a final, untainted sanctuary remains. It is within this remnant of purity that the ultimate fate of Arithea now rests.