Chapter 1: The Champion's Last Breath
The battle was a crimson whirlwind, a macabre dance of steel and flesh. Screams of pain and defiance drowned in the mire of blood and dust. In the heart of that hell, where bodies piled up like firewood, a man fought in a duel against the Demon King. Humanity's hope hung on every swing of his sword, every desperate breath. But the Demon King's laughter was a cruel mockery, an echo of imminent triumph. It was a blood-curdling laugh, a promise of annihilation.
In a fleeting instant, unexpected by all, the Demon King struck the final blow. The man's sword fell with a mournful clang, and his body collapsed. He, humanity's last hope, was struck down. As darkness consumed him, and blood stained the earth beneath his inert body, a single thought, a desperate wish, escaped his cracked lips: "If only I could go back to the past."
A blinding light enveloped him, so bright it eclipsed the carnage of battle and the demon's victorious laughter. The sensation of his body falling, of the searing pain, faded, replaced by a warm, empty nothingness.