The Human Kingdom, once a realm of marble towers, golden banners, and disciplined order, had begun to rot from within. The throne room, once echoing with council meetings and formal declarations, had become eerily quiet. The pillars seemed colder, the tapestries faded. Even the guards’ eyes no longer held pride—they carried only fear.
King Luke sat on his throne, but his gaze was empty.
Where there had once been a sharp mind and a calculating strategist, now there was something hollow—something dangerous.
His veins still pulsed with shadow, remnants of the life essence stolen from him by Vaelith. The touch of the Shadow King had not just drained his power, it had left scars in his soul—fractures no magic could mend. Luke had not been the same since that day.
He no longer slept.
He no
