The unstable portal in the ritual chamber finally stabilized, allowing a massive, chilling figure to step through. The air instantly cooled, the chaos of the lesser demons giving way to silent, controlled malice. The entity was the Demon General: Verath the Crimson, radiating the cold, immense power of an 8th Core Stage equivalent warrior. He was massive, powerful, and intelligent, his armor black iron, his eyes glowing with cold, crimson light.
“Finally... the mortal realm. 500 years sealed away,” Verath's voice boomed, deep and resonant, holding the ancient power of the void. He surveyed the scene of c*****e—the scattered cultists, the terrified lesser demons, and the exhausted warriors. “Pathetic. Both cultists and humans are insects.”
With a casual flick of his armored gauntlet, Vera
