Morning rays from Gaia pierced the dense atmosphere of Titanora, threading their way through tiny dust particles, shimmering water droplets, and an invisible density of energy called Mana. These rays bathed the entire continent in a warm, golden glow, creating a stark contrast to the land's desolation.
Titanora bore the scars of a century-old battle, its once-mighty civilization reduced to ruins. Crumbling structures, cracked earth, and vast barren lands spoke of devastation.
Yet, the people of Titanora were a warrior race, defined not only by their physical prowess drawn from Mana but also by their indomitable spirit and relentless determination.
The continent was divided into seven smaller kingdoms, their names lost to the annals of history, victims of a cataclysmic destruction.
At the heart of Titanora lay the central kingdom, once a thriving hub of culture and legacy, now a graveyard of rubble. The ruinous state of this kingdom was a result to the arrival of Ryuk Devereaux, an event etched in the collective memory of all.
The truth was bitter: whether it was the clash with the Abernathy family or a lone hero curing the cursed, the majority of Dariants harbored a deep-seated hatred for the Devereaux family. Now, it was even more directed at the newly arrived Devereaux with his army known as Ryuk Devereaux.
In one struggling town, barely sustained by its meager farmland, two figures moved through a street lined with broken stones and the remnants of finely crafted architecture.
These homes, now mere shelters, were filled with people who glared at the pair with palpable disdain. Valhale, the older man, walked beside a young man who worn a black masquerade mask.
"You wanted to use them for creating your ships, didn't you?" Valhale's voice cut through the tense silence, dripping with barely concealed anger.
His piercing gaze swept over the townspeople, noting their clenched fists, white-knuckled with fury, and the children's wide, accusing stares, all fixed on the masked man's amber eyes, Valhale continued, his voice rising, echoing through the cobbled streets. "See for yourself, Ryuk Devereaux, What have you done to them."
'....' After deciding to meet the natives, Ryuk arrived here understanding the monumental task ahead of convincing these people to work for him but what he saw was utter devastation.
The villagers stared at him with disgust, their faces contorted in rage and sorrow.
Even the children harbored a deep-seated hatred, their eyes filled with a blend of fear and defiance.
From the moment Ryuk arrived in this town just a few miles from the central city, it became evident that his battle with the Abernathy members had left an indelible mark on the natives.
The shockwaves from his clash, which seemed negligible to his companions, had wrought havoc here and left an irreplaceable devastation.
"Valhale, no need to agitate like this," Ryuk firmly stated as he moved toward the trembling child. The boy took a step back in fear but soon stopped, gathering his courage. As Ryuk approached, he looked down at the small child and continued, "Hey, you want food?"
"W-what? Just leave us alon—" The boy's voice shook as he repeated himself, his eyes darting around for help from the nearby villagers. But all of them averted their gaze, fear evident on their faces.
They were well aware of the aura emanating from Ryuk, a testament to his overwhelming strength.
With *Shunya* not working, his power level was not hidden, creating a visible energy tsunami that filled the entire area for miles.
The Dariants could feel it acutely, their bodies absorbing the outside mana to enhance their physical strength, making the dense mana in the air tingle their senses but somewhat mana was reacting vigourous as if presence of Ether nearby evident.
"Don't look at those cowards," Ryuk said, his tone firm and unsympathetic. "They will act brave but aren't brave enough to feed you." His expression showed no pity.
This wasn't his first life in this world, and he wasn't about to start offering charity now.
In his previous world, he had seen people who fought others for mistreating beggars but never had the courage to help the beggars themselves.
Some protested for unrelated reasons or acted as victims when exposed for their hypocrisy.
In this new world, where survival was uncertain, he wasn't going to act kindly and hand out freebies.
"Tell me, do you want food or not?" Ryuk repeated, treating the others as mere extras who only knew how to show dissatisfaction with their own weakness.
Was he heartless?
Yes, but he understood that if these people, with their strength and physique, were thrown into a lower-level continent, they would do the same to others as the Devereaux had done to them.
No one was a true victim here; the situation simply wasn't in their favor.
"I—I"