Far from the elves and human continent in the far west region of the world, was the land of the demons who managed to occupy it when the invasion ended and was now their base of operations.

However after it ended and a truce was announced so that all forced would be able to recover they naturally claimed this land as their own and began building their own empire.

The capital of the demon realm it's name was Veylthar and it was pulsing like it was a living heart of Blackstone and also flame.

There were spires that were carved from volcanic obsidian as they rose to the ash colored skies. And there were also rives that were like molten fire that ran beneath the streets.

To anyone else this place was a true hellscape but to the demons, this was their home and a place where raw power decided everything.

Unlike the arrogance that the elves always display, the demons however thrived with discipline. Their whole society was forged through battles and battles and they were bound together by an iron code:

Strength for the people, and will for the king.

Demon King Vaelthos, he was the ruler of the dean realm. A ruler of grin wisdom who understood the costs that a war would bring.

For many centuries he has seen too much carnage and many families, homes and people dying do to the pride of people who refused to see the bigger picture.

There were to many broken alliances, too much betray for those who wanted to rule for themselves, and death of capable people due to fear of being overthrown.

That's why he decided to end the way many years ago so that his people can prosper even if he earned the contempt of his followers and least his people would stay alive and thrive.

That's why by his command in the upcoming inter-racial competition it wasn't a battlefield but a place where they would preserve the fragile peace even if it's by a few more years.

100 years might seem like a long time but the war made all forces loose around 80% of their power and people, and with the few that were left they needed to grow stronger forces, rebuild their society and also being order.

But it wasn't everyone who shared this vision and he knew it, that's why he hoped this competition will be a chance to show them how the peace is essential since the threat of the outer gods still looms over their heads.

The Demon Council

In a council chamber that was carved deep into the obsidian cliffs of the realm of Veylthar, it was already buzzing with voices.

Torches were lit with ancient runes in the room that hummed with a violet flame, it was throwing shadows across the figures and the area.

There was a long Blackstone table and among it seated the most powerful houses of the demon nobility, they were the elders of the demon realm and from what could be seen they were arguing relentlessly.

"A farce! A farce I say! This tournament is nothing but bullcrap!" Roared lord Kharvos, he has crimson horns that were jagged like as a crown. "Why should we risk our strongest younglings against those mongrels called humans and elves? These pitiful whispers of peace is nothing but shackles, their chains! They claim it's for the betterment for all races but their just cowards! This is only weakness that is disguised as honor!" He roared once more, anger was deeply etched on his face.

There were also others who agreed with the old fossil, though they were more cautious than the hot headed demon elder.

Then the was also Lady Kaelith Draemora, this was the Demon King's most trusted general, she then leaned forward.Her skin was midnight blue and he eyes were like burning twin embers.

"You already know that The King's word is law. We don't go there for conquest, but to show our strength with restraint. Do you understand this you old coot? If we fall back into war like this, it won't be the elves or even the humans who will suffer first. But it'll be us. The demon realm can't endure another century of bloodshed."

"Peace is only an illusion! Your all just afraid! Only war breeds the strong!" Kharvos spat back.

"And so is victory without allies," Kaelith spat back at him. "If we stand amongst ourselves, we'll die alone. The calamities don't wait for our pride to settle or for us to prepare. You should know this yourself Kharvos. You lost your arm and son due to your hot temper and you never learn."

That's when the chamber grew quiet, even Kharvos was silent and as he receded back to his chair. The mention of his lost son always made him saddened, due to his decisions even when he allies told him that it was a bad idea he refused to listen and lost his arm to and son to one fo the calamities.

Even amongst the demons, the mention of those sealed calamities carried more weight than an old man's pride and bitterness.

The memories still lingered of the last calamity that was unsealed, when half of the whole southern territories were reduced to ash before it was even contained. No one didn't want imagine what would have happened if they sealed it a minute later.

The king's decree still stood. Demons would send their young champions not to annihilate but to represent their unity, to show them that their not a bunch of savages who are always out for blood.

But at the very corner of the chamber, cloaked in shadows, there was one single figure who smiled silently.

He wasn't a noble, not a general, yet his influence as the king's aide was whispering through the cracks of Veylthar's foundations.

His name was Malphas Rynn, he was the close aide to the current demon king, he has been trusted for many decades. And yet beneath that mask of loyalty, there was something more worse, a hidden hand, and that hand was of Kyrexis.

Later in a different chamber that was beneath the council halls, that's when Malphas removed his guide of a most loyal servant.

The sigils of Kyrexis were pulsing across the obsidian walls, as crimson light was bleeding like open wounds. And around him there were cloaked figured who knelt, their horns bowed, but their eyes were beaming with fanatic hunger.

"The King always talks about peace," He said, his voice was as smooth as poison. "But peace is always a weakness. I'm sure you all feel it don't you? The world is being stained with its own chains. The seals were weakening slowly. And the monsters are still slumbering, but we... we will be the ones to awaken them."

That's when the cultists started to hiss in reverence.

"War has clarity. When there's a calamity there is a chance for ascension. And when the beasts rise, the very false balance between the races will shatter. And we as Kyrexis, we will stand as the architects of the new world order."

That's when one of the cultists raised the heard still trembling. "And the competition master? What will we do about it?"

That's when Malphas smiled thinly, his eyes glinting with red. "That's simply a stage, while eyes of the elves, dragons and those pitiful mortals a busy fixated on their precious games of cunning, we will move in the shadows. And their unity will falter before it's even forged. The Outer God's have already tainted precious Aeltherian Prince. Soon, we will also claim our own pawn."

He the raised his left hand, a black flame began to swirl around his palm, and it was flickering as if it was a hungry serpent.

"Prepare our agents. Let them mask themselves as competitors, allied and even as servants. And when the time comes, a signal with be given, we will strike, not at the tournament its just a distraction. Our aim is the seal breath the academy walls."

The chamber hummed with whispers: Kyrexis. Kyrexis. Kyrexis.

Meanwhile while this was happening behind the scenes, Kaelith was busy leading the official preparations for the competition. As dozens of young demons were gathered in the training grounds, as their bodies wreathed in a crimson glow of demonic mana.

Unlike the natural affinities, demonic mana burned from within their life force tempered into a weapon that was refined through countless centuries of very brutal training where even some died.

"Remember my words younglings," Kaelith spoke as she strode among them, as her whip like tail cracker against the Blackstone floors. "You aren't there to destroy. You there to show them your power but with restraint of course. Power without any discipline is nothing but chaos. You already know what happened to the first demon king because of this. So if any of you shame the king, you also shame the whole demon realm so keep that in mind."

The young demons nodded, whole some did so reluctantly and others did so with grim determination.

Ever since they were born they were raised to fight, yet now they are being told to temper their fury, it wasn't going to be an easy lesson for them.

Among them there was one demon who stood out, Serik. He was a prodigy with wings of black fire that curled around his back.

He was clenching his fists, frustration was evident as it was etched across his scarred face. "We should be fighting to win, not to bow. Every other race will also have the same mentality no matter what their being told."

Kaelith's gaze then turned to him. "Victory is not about breaking bodies, but it's in the strength to endure such without falling into madness. And you don't master yourself, you aren't even a proper demon."

Her words silenced him, but resentment was still burning through his eyes.

And high above the training grounds, Malphas was watching in the shadows unseen. His smile was just like a blade's edge.

He thoughts on the other hand were sinister:

"Train them with restraint, Kaelith. But when the times comes, I will unshackle those chains myself."

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