Salawan Fields — A Battlefield Beyond Sight
Ten years before the war’s end.
A towering demon, two meters tall, stood like an armored nightmare. His body was sheathed in jagged armor-like skin, intimidating all who beheld him. Six sharp horns crowned his head in three pairs, and his crimson eyes glowed ominously against his pitch-black skin.
He was Fury — Crown Prince of the Demon Kingdom.
Behind him stood his demon army, willing to die in his name. Across the field charged the human cavalry, white-gold armor gleaming beneath the sun, crusader crosses embossed on their breastplates. The ground quaked under the hooves of white stallions... but as they drew closer, the horses began to panic. Not because of the demons — but because of him.
The paladins struggled to keep their steeds in check. All but one.
A tall woman rode at the front — her silvery white hair cascading like silk, golden eyes glowing with resolve. She stood nearly 180 centimeters tall, towering over any female warrior Fury had seen on the battlefield.
Her horse halted mere paces from the prince. The noise of clanking armor died down as she raised her left hand.
“Light be with you.”
Her voice was deep yet graceful, a tone shaped by both education and elegance. Her presence exuded intellect and strength.
Fury returned the gesture, raising his hand in kind.
When their hands dropped, she spoke:
“ I ask you to withdraw your army.”
“I ask you to leave this matter to us” came Fury’s voice, low and inhuman. His words echoed with a layered resonance, as though multiple voices spoke at once — a natural trait of his kind, whose vocal organs evolved differently from humans.
“Our people are dead. There must be someone held accountable.”
“I assure you, our king regrets the tragedy deeply. He intends to travel to your kingdom himself to explain.”
“He didn’t even come to face me in person. And you expect me to believe his remorse?”
The paladins averted their eyes. The woman pulled on her reins gently, steadying her horse before speaking again.
“The king is gravely ill, Your Highness... He’s stricken with smallpox.”
Fury could sense the truth in her concern.
“A battle now would only lead to ruin — for both our sides. Withdraw, or we all perish.”
“Is that a plea?”
“I do not seek bloodshed... but if I must fight—”
Her hand fell to the hilt of the sacred sword at her side.
That calm confidence — Fury had crushed warriors before, but she... she wasn’t arrogant.
“I understand the anger of the Demon King. I mourn the loss. But I seek peace, not pride.”
She spoke with honor — not just for herself, but for her homeland. Fury respected that.
“But I cannot retreat.”
“Even if the attackers were only a rogue faction of knights… lives were lost. We will take the conspirators back to our realm. They will face judgment.”
“There’s no way to resolve this without blood?” she asked.
“I just gave you one. The choice is yours, General.”
“With all due respect, Your Highness... as commander, I cannot accept it.”
“It is not my decision. My father sent me with this offer. You may accept or refuse — but know this: if he sent me, you know what that means.”
“And if our king sent me, the meaning is the same.”
“I thought he was bedridden with smallpox?”
“Even if he were well, I would still be the one standing before you at this negotiation.”
“Then you must be powerful indeed, General.”
“Do you agree with me, then?”
“I may agree — but to retreat would defy the Demon King’s orders. That’s worse than losing.”
“You’re right,” she nodded. “But if you had a reason to retreat… do you think your father would reconsider?”
“What reason would that be?”
“Me.”
She dismounted from her horse.
“If you kill me here, the kingdom of Luminus is yours. Let me be the reason you withdraw.”
“Human… how dare y—”
Fury raised a hand to silence his soldier.
“Stand down. She’s not one you can handle.”
“Your highness!”
And so, a duel began. Right there, between the armies.
Light versus darkness.
Their clash would become legend — a tale retold by both armies for generations to come.
In a single blink, the battlefield erupted into a storm of fury and light.
Lightning-red arcs of power exploded from Fury’s body, crashing into the golden-white brilliance of the sacred blade.
To the watching soldiers, it looked like gods and devils had descended to wage war among mortals.
Mountains shattered into dust. The ground split and roared. The sky screamed as if the world itself was tearing apart.
But even with all his power, Fury couldn’t bring her down.
On the contrary—
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She made him bleed.
And he, in turn, left her battered and bruised.
Three hours passed. Still, no victor.
Their battle was raw and savage, yet strangely beautiful — a dance of death with every movement synchronized to an invisible rhythm.
She remained standing, blood seeping from her wounds, her armor broken and clinging to her like tattered silver leaves. Fury, too, had lost an arm. His once-impenetrable armor of thorns now cracked and broken.
And still, no one yielded.
Thick, crimson blood dripped from the torn flesh of his arm. He clutched the gash, panting.
“Hah... Hah... Hah...”
She stood tall. No, not out of pride — but because the stakes on her shoulders were too heavy to allow her to fall.
If she lost, her kingdom would fall with her.
That... made Fury pause.
“…What is your name?” he asked, voice rough.
She wiped the blood off her cheek with the back of her hand.
“Casca Saint Maximin.”
—
That name dropped like a thunderclap.
Every demon behind Fury froze. Even Fury himself stiffened.
“Maximin…?”
The murmurs started.
The Maximin?
Could it be… that Maximin?
None had ever seen her in person, but all had heard the name whispered in reverence — The Chosen Guardian.
A human said to be chosen by the Light itself. A divine warrior.
Now it made sense. This was why the demon prince bled.
“You’re the holy knight they speak of… Maximin?” Fury asked.
“I am merely a human,” she replied.
Silence followed. Fury slowly relaxed. The red lightning that once surrounded him faded away.
“I will remember your face,” he said at last.
Casca lowered her sword and bowed slightly.
Fury turned to his soldiers.
“We’re withdrawing. We have our reason now.”
There was hesitation—
But none dared defy him.
Because if even he couldn’t bring her down… no one could.
They were equals. Titans. One on each side.
A roar of victory exploded from the human lines. Joy thundered across the plains as if light had finally banished darkness.
Fury cast a glance back. Casca limped, using her sword as a crutch to return to her people.
And he—
With a missing arm—
Had to be supported by his kin. But as long as the wound wasn’t fatal, a Diablo could regrow limbs in time.
Deep in his heart, though, Fury felt uneasy.
He had always doubted the Demon King’s orders. A mistake had led to bloodshed, yes. But to retaliate by launching a full invasion of the Kingdom of Light?
That was too far.
As his soldiers helped him away, Fury turned and shouted across the field:
“If we agree to negotiations… what will you do with the ones responsible?”
Casca looked back, blood still streaking her face.
“We will judge them—fairly,” she said solemnly. “I swear it.”
She raised her right hand.
“May the Light be with you…”
But this time—
Fury did not raise his hand out of formality.
He lifted the one arm he had left, and for the first time, his voice softened with sincerity.
“And with you as well.”
The world was vast, its lands split between seven kingdoms — five ruled by humans, and two by something else entirely.
The Five Human Kingdoms:
- Velmouth — The Realm of Dark Arts
- Snowhaven — The Frozen Kingdom
- Luminus — The Kingdom of Light
- Mathema — The Technocratic Domain
- Zentinel — The Land of Spirits
But beyond them stood two realms not ruled by mankind. Their people were something other — not quite human, not quite monster.
- Diablo — The Demon Kingdom
- Shadow — The Realm of Shade
In this Arcane-inspired world, the Diablo were a rarity — a race of fewer than 500.
A drop in the ocean of humanity.
But what they lacked in numbers, they more than made up for in power.
Diablo were born with staggering physical abilities. Not just strong — overwhelmingly strong.
So much so that even the most advanced armies in the world acknowledged one simple, terrifying truth:
The last thing anyone should do... is provoke the Diablo.
Twenty years ago, in the great war of the Five Kingdoms, the Diablo remained neutral — until the Shadow Kingdom, driven by greed, made a fatal mistake.
They invaded Diablo territory.
Their goal? The mineral-rich lands of the Demon Isles.
They thought they could seize the resources and move on to the human kingdoms.
But they miscalculated.
They poked the beast.
Months after Diablo joined the war, the fighting ended. Just like that.
The Demon Army, fewer than 200 strong, swept through the Shadow Kingdom like a hurricane. They razed cities. Exterminated every last enemy. Left nothing behind.
It wasn’t war.
It was eradication.
The world watched in horror. One kingdom was gone. Just like that.
From then on, the balance of power changed.
What was once 5 + 2 kingdoms... became 5 + 1.
From that day forward, the Diablo were considered the only true non-human race in the world.
And so, the Five Human Kingdoms came together.
They begged for peace.
A treaty was signed.
An understanding was reached:
The Diablo would remain in isolation — untouched and unprovoked.
In return, the rest of the world would be left in peace.
They retreated to their islands, surrounded by ocean and mystery, living in quiet solitude.
No one dared cross their waters.
No one dared test their wrath.
Still, their legend lingered.
And at the heart of that legend... stood one figure above all others:
Fury, the Crown Prince of Diablo.
Wherever he walked, blood followed.
Wherever he fought, armies broke.
The strongest of all Diablo, it was said his fist alone could crush a dragon ten times his size into a storm of blood in a single blow.
He had proven it — time and time again — during the war. Against the Shadows. Against any foolish enough to test him.
The world called him The Demon Prince.
It was not a title of royalty —
But of fear.
And so, the story shifted. The sky faded from blood-red battlefield clouds...
To blue skies above a dock bustling with life.
We were no longer in Diablo.
We were somewhere far more ordinary.
We were in the human world.
A wooden ship docked quietly along the port of a human kingdom.
From it stepped a young man — black hair neatly trimmed, about 165 cm tall, his features unremarkable, his presence quiet. He carried a bag over one shoulder and walked alongside a taller young woman whose cropped hair flared outward at the ends — one side dyed red, the other black.
Her skin was smooth and fair like cotton, her body striking enough to turn heads — and the tight-fitting uniform she wore didn’t help. She stood taller than the boy beside her.
“Did you bring everything down from the ship? Check again,” she asked, her voice crisp.
“I checked already, ma’am~”
The boy pulled out a folded letter and read:
Ten years in your realm, yet you’ve never stepped foot in mine? You’ve never come to visit my land, have you? Or left home for anything other than war-related matter? Ever wonder what the real world outside is like? Let’s play a game.
I dare you to come find me here in the human realm — you’ve got one year. In the meantime, I’ve got some unfinished business to handle.
If you don’t chicken out and crawl back into your hole… you’ll see me again.
Love,
Maximin.
A small smile tugged at Fury’s lips.
He folded the letter and tucked it into a pocket near his heart, patting it twice.
“You really keep it that close to your chest,” the woman said.
“If you burn my wife’s letter,” he muttered, “I’ll rip out your guts and hang them at the city gate for the vultures to feast on.”
“She’s your fiancée, not your wife yet.”
“And what’s the difference?”
“Fiancées can be unfianced!”
“Why would I un-fiancé her?”
“I don’t know! Anything can happen!”
“Save your bad omens for someone else.”
“You’re mine!”
“Oh, here we go again.”
They both looked at a weathered bulletin posted near the docks.
A yellowed sheet of paper read:
The Demon Prince clashed with the Holy Knight Casca Saint Maximin on the Fields of Salawan. The Light prevailed, and the demons were driven back.
“Driven back?” Fury muttered, eyebrow twitching. “Funny… I don’t remember being driven anywhere.”
“Humans do that,” the woman said, shaking her head. “They spin the story to make their side look descent”
Fury shot her a look.
“Urk—” She quickly covered her mouth. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”
“You’re sentenced to another 20,000 years in prison. Tacked onto the rest.”
“What about the 500,000 years I’ve already served?”
“You were this close to getting pardoned — until you opened your mouth again.”
“Come on, we’re on the same side here!”
“Bargaining? Add another 400,000.”
“Your Highness…”
“How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t say that in public. Right now, both of us are human. You slip up again, I’ll send you back for real.”
“It won’t happen again!” she yelped, standing up straight.
Her name was Freya.
She was his bodyguard — or maybe he was hers. At this point, even Fury wasn’t sure.
He crumpled the poster — the one depicting his demonic form — and stuffed it into his bag.
“Interesting… It’s been over a decade since the war, and I had no idea what humans thought of me until I stepped off that boat. ‘Demon Prince,’ huh? Makes me sound like the villain.”
“Well, it’s catchy. Easy to remember,” Freya offered.
“You know what they call you?”
“What?”
“‘The Jellyfish looking ass’”
“…Jellyfish looking ass?”
“Demon Prince and his jellyfish looking ass sidekick. That’s your reputation.”
“They call me—jellyfish looking ass ?”
“Can’t blame them though.… I kinda see it.”
They passed a group of mercenaries. Some of the men eyed Freya with obvious interest — unaware she noticed every one of their glances.
Fury smirked.
“So, how does it feel to be a full-option female human, Freya?”
“If I change back now, will it still count—?”
“Too late. You’re stuck like that until you die. Farewell.”
He looked ahead at the massive archway looming in the distance.
Beyond it: Arteris — the Academic District.
He’d arrived.
A New Chapter Begins
Casca… the other half of me…
I’ve come. Just like you asked.
“Thinking about that bitch again your highness?”
“Man, shut the fuck up.”