CH-3 THE OTHER REALMS
Pharones — Where Water Heals, and Gods Decide to Kill Slowly
Pharones was a realm that believed itself untouchable.
Endless oceans shimmered with healing mana. Waterfalls fell not by gravity alone but by will, cascading endlessly from floating cliffs veiled in mist. Spirits drifted like half-forgotten prayers. The air itself repaired wounds, mended fractures, soothed madness.
And at the heart of one such waterfall—
He stood.
The Demon Lord Kravex
Kravex did not resist the torrent.
The waterfall crashed down upon his body, yet the water split instinctively around him, as though unwilling to touch what it did not understand. Mist curled at his feet, reverent, afraid.
His form was tall, composed, wrapped in layered darkness that did not drink the light but rejected it. His presence bent mana, not violently—authoritatively. Like a law older than the realm itself had arrived and expected obedience.
Pharones screamed silently around him.
Not in pain.
In recognition.
The System Slab
Above his left hand hovered a tab-shaped slab, translucent and solid at once.
It was purple, but not a color known to the spectrum—too deep, too conceptual. The surface was etched with lines that were not runes, not circuits, not divine script.
They were decisions made solid.
The slab had been handcrafted by Kravex himself, using materials stripped from dead realities:
crystallized void-pressure
condensed authority
fragments of collapsed timelines
No god had blessed it.
No system governed it.
It answered to him alone.
Upon its surface, information flowed without sound.
DUNGEON STATUS: ACTIVE
HUMAN EMOTIONAL OUTPUT: RISING
PRIMARY FEEDS:
– FEAR
– GREED
– PRIDE
– DESPAIR
MIASMA INTAKE: STABLE
CURSE PROPAGATION: INITIATED
Kravex watched.
Unblinking.
The Gesture
Slowly—deliberately—he lifted a single finger.
The waterfall reacted instantly.
Mist that had drifted aimlessly for centuries froze.
Then it twisted.
The vapor folded inward, spiraling like a galaxy collapsing into itself. Mana screamed as the mist compressed, darkened, reconceptualized.
A portal formed.
Not torn open.
Invited into existence.
Its surface reflected not Pharones—but stone corridors, moving lights, tiny figures walking unknowingly toward damnation.
The dungeon.
Connected.
Alive.
Kravex's gaze passed through the portal, following threads of causality as adventurers laughed, mapped, boasted.
He saw:
a man who would abandon his brother
a woman who would trade mercy for loot
a king who would call exploitation
"progress"
Each decision pulsed softly.
Feeding him.
"Drop the Act."
His voice was quiet.
It did not echo.
Reality leaned closer to hear it.
"Begin."
The slab pulsed once.
The Swallowing of Humanity
The dungeon responded immediately.
Far away, in the human realm, corridors subtly shifted. Traps recalibrated. Monsters paused—then learned.
Every negative emotion released by humans became currency.
Fear thickened the dungeon walls.
Greed sharpened monster instincts.
Pride hardened boss domains.
Despair… despair was the sweetest fuel of all.
Deaths—human and monster alike—did not vanish.
They returned.
Converted into raw miasma energy, flowing back through unseen channels, crossing realms, pouring into Kravex like tributaries feeding a black ocean.
Pharones' healing waters recoiled as the energy passed.
They could not cleanse this.
This was not corruption.
It was harvest.
Creation Through Miasma
Kravex spread his hand.
Dark energy bled from his palm—not chaotic, not wild—but ordered, segmented into elements like a master alchemist working with fundamental laws.
He shaped them effortlessly:
Abyssal Flame — fire that devours intent, not matter
Grave Frost — cold that preserves suffering
Void Lightning — thought-striking arcs that disrupt will
Miasmic Earth — flesh-growing stone
Each element stabilized, hovering before him like obedient concepts.
These were not spells.
They were prototype doctrines.
Hellemes Grounds — The Furnace Realm
The portal shifted.
The waterfall vanished.
Kravex stood now above Hellemes Grounds—a realm of roaring volcanoes, shifting seasons, skies torn by ash and lightning.
Below him, a massive volcano churned, magma pulsing like a living heart.
Perfect.
The Cocoon
Kravex brought his hands together.
The elements collapsed inward, compressed by his authority. Dark energy folded, layered, sealed.
A cocoon formed.
Oval. Massive. Breathing.
Its surface crawled with veins of crimson and black, symbols surfacing and sinking as if the thing inside was still deciding what it wanted to be.
This was not a monster.
This was a throne candidate.
The first dungeon boss.
Born not from instinct—but from data, emotion, death, and judgment.
Planting the Seed
Kravex descended slowly.
The volcano reacted violently—magma surged, pressure spiked, the land itself screaming in protest.
He ignored it.
With a single motion, he planted the cocoon deep into the volcanic core.
The moment it touched magma—
The volcano went silent.
Then the ground shook as something ancient accepted its role.
FIRST DUNGEON BOSS
STATUS: INCUBATING
LOCATION: HELLEMES GROUNDS
FUNCTION: ADAPTIVE DOMINION
AUTHORITY SEED: GRANTED
The slab confirmed it.
Kravex watched as the volcano began to change—its eruptions becoming rhythmic, intentional, almost… controlled.
A training ground.
A crucible.
Kravex's Observation
He turned his gaze back toward the human realm.
Toward laughing adventurers.
Toward celebrating kings.
Toward maps proudly drawn.
The portal closed.
The waterfall resumed its fall.
Pharones pretended nothing had happened.
Kravex lowered his hand.
"They believe monsters are born here."
His eye narrowed slightly.
"Let them."
The system slab dimmed, hovering patiently at his side.
Phase One was complete.
Phase Two was incubating.
And humanity—
Humanity had already stepped inside the mouth of something that did not intend to chew.
It intended to teach.
END OF THE CHAPTER.