Fallen Realm Online: Rise of The Fallen Monarch

******

Currently, on a ruined street where shattered stones and splintered wood lie scattered across the ground, remnants of a past filled with violence.

Along this street, crumbling buildings leaned against one another like dying corpses, their walls blackened and scorched by merciless flames.

Rusted lanterns dangled from crooked poles, groaning in the wind as if moments from collapsing, while thorny weeds sprouted through the cracked cobblestone, like nature was reclaiming what was left behind.

Although the sky was already dark and heavy, the devastation around was impossible to miss, a ruthless reminder of war so catastrophic it had surely devoured countless souls.

The air clung thick with the bitter stench of ashes and decay, heavy with silence that was only constantly broken by the faint scuttling of monstrous rats, each the size of a human head.

Right now, two demons moved quietly through this wreckage, their movements swift and as hidden as possible, blending seamlessly into the shadows.

"What are we doing here?" The demon at the back... Xylen, who was still clocked from head to toe in his back robe, finally muttered, his gaze flickering warily across the twisted remains of the street... at the creepy and eerie-looking street.

At the front, Lilith, her expression sharper than ever, scanned the creepy surroundings like a predator, each step deliberate, every muscle taut with vigilance.

"We’re almost there, my Lord," she whispered with a voice barely above audile, not sparing him any glance.

The two continued for another five or so minutes, then suddenly, Lilith carefully stepped over some loose stones—ones that, upon closer inspection, had been meticulously placed. A trip alarm, maybe?

Xylen’s brows instantly lifted in confusion, but despite not fully understanding Lilith’s sudden mysteriousness, he mimicked her movements, stepping exactly where she stepped.

Before long, they reached the front of a building barely standing upright, its roof sagging inward and its door hanging from rusted hinges, ready to collapse at the slightest touch.

"We’re here, My Lord," Lilith whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

’Huh?’

Xylen’s eyes blinked twice... twice, then—

’Aren’t we going to meet the secret freedom-fighter group you created?’ he thought in bewilderment, his brow twitching. ’Why does this feel more like we’re about to meet an assassin cult?’

Still, he kept his questions to himself.

He did not care where Lilith took him... as long as his goal was achieved. That’s all that mattered.

Without saying a word, he nodded his head, and seeing his affirmative response, Lilith stepped toward the door.

Tap.

She suddenly tapped her finger against the splintered wood, completely taking Xylen by surprise

’What again?’ he wondered, tilting his head.

But before he could ask;

Tap

Lilith struck another spot on the door, producing a slightly different sound.

Then:

Tap... Tap

She continued hitting her finger on the door.

It wasn’t until the seventh tap that Xylen finally understood—it was a knock pattern. Yet, even realizing that, he couldn’t shake the thought that crept into his mind:

’Isn’t this a bit too overkill for a village resistance group?’

Up front, Lilith’s face burned red with embarrassment, as if she could already read Xylen’s thoughts. Yet, even so, her fingers never wavered.

Finally, on her final tap—

Creeeaak!

The door groaned open, scraping against the ground like the growl of something ancient. Then, from the narrow crack, a Demon emerged—its face harsh, flat, and blunt like weathered stone, devoid of a nose, while a jagged, grotesque mouth stretched unnaturally wide across his face as if carved by cruel hands.

His eyes burned with vigilance, his expression twisted into a vicious snarl, poised to strike at any moment. But the instant he saw Lilith, his demeanor shattered like fragile glass.

"Mistress," he rasped, his voice rough but brimming with joy.

Without hesitation, he swung the door wider, bowing his head slightly. "We’ve been waiting for you."

Lilith, nodding her head, stepped inside without hesitation, but as the Demon turned to shut the door, his eyes locked onto Xylen’s cloaked figure.

His entire body instantly stiffened.

And then, in a flash, he drew a long, wide sword from his scabbard — the blade cracked and jagged like it had survived a hundred battles.

"Who sent you?!" he snarled, leveling the weapon at Xylen’s throat, murderous intent spilling from him like a flood.

For a split second, Lilith froze, eyes wide in disbelief.

Then her face twisted in deep, seething fury.

"Bastard!" she snapped, her voice venomous as she whirled around. "What the fck do you think you’re doing?!"

She demanded aggressively, but not waiting for an answer, she unsheathed her own blade in a single breath—the same one she had wielded earlier that day

and stepped between Xylen and the Demon without a hint of hesitation.

The Demon flinched, his jagged mouth slackening in shock. But before he could speak, the sound of footsteps echoed from within the run-down house.

Before long, seven more Demons emerged, their faces taut with alarm, their bodies exuding a murderous aura, convinced that the commotion they just heard signaled an intruder.

However, the moment they arrived and took in the scene before them—their leader and comrade with weapons drawn against each other- their expressions shifted dramatically.

"Gravelkin!" one of them — a bloated, slimy demon with a cloudy, red-stained complexion- barked. "What in the abyss are you doing?!"

The others quickly returned to their senses and also glared at Gravelkin like they might tear him apart themselves.

It was only then that Gravelkin finally processed what had happened. He hastily wiped the sweat off his forehead and sheathed his sword with trembling hands.

Then, swallowing hard, he stammered.

"I... I didn’t point my weapon at the Mistress."

The other demons exchanged incredulous glances and then glared back at Gravelin.

"Are you saying we’re all blind then?" snapped another Demon, his skin stretched so tightly over his face that the bones beneath jutted through like a living corpse.

Gravelkin gulped, feeling the fierce aura his colleagues were sending in his direction.

"I... I swear, I never pointed my weapon at the Mistress," he stammered. But when his colleagues still looked unconvinced, Gravelkin anxiously gestured toward the fully robed Xylen.

"I... I saw someone suspicious behind the Mistress," he stammered. "So I... I acted without thinking."

The demons’ brows instinctively rose at this explanation, and then, without thinking, they turned their gazes toward the cloaked figure.

Suspicion immediately darkened their eyes, and in the next moment, they shifted their gaze to Lilith, their expressions laden with confusion, suspicion, and unspoken questions.

Ultimately—

"Mistress..." one of the Demons drawled.

At the sound of it, Lilith, who had been glaring daggers at Gravelkin, finally snorted and tore her gaze away, making Gravelkin swallow hard.

"Let’s go inside first," she said. Without waiting for a response, she stepped aside, her gaze filled with a level of respect toward the black-robed figure—one unlike anything they had ever seen from her before.

"After you, my Lord."

For a moment, the Demons stood frozen, unable to react. Then, they stiffened, their eyes widening dramatically, nearly bulging from their sockets.

"...Did she just say... my Lord?" one of them whispered, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull.

They turned to where Lilith had been standing, only to find her already gone, moving deeper into the crumbling house with Xylen in tow.

They exchanged glances, and as realization dawned, their eyes widened in unison before they hurried inside, scrambling to follow. Gravelkin was the last to enter, bolting the door shut behind them.

His hands still trembled the remnants of Lilith’s killing intent gripping him. He was certain that if their colleagues hadn’t arrived when they did, he would have been dead on the spot.