The rift opened at the exact moment when the balance between two worlds trembled.
This was no ordinary gateway.
It was a wound—
torn open not by time,
not by magic,
but by rage.
When KRRISH stepped out of the rift, the ground did not shake.
The sky did not scream.
Because in this world, everything that could tremble
had already died long ago.
The Demon World did not welcome visitors.
It judged them.
Here, the air did not flow—
it pressed down.
Every breath carried weight, as if the world itself were measuring the soul of the one who had arrived. Dark mist stretched endlessly in every direction, thick and suffocating, as though darkness itself had melted into something alive.
The land itself looked broken.
Burnt stones lay scattered like remnants of ancient wars. Jagged cracks split the ground open, as if something beneath was trying to escape. Twisted trees stood frozen in silent agony, their branches not reaching for the sky—but bending downward, dragged toward an unseen abyss.
Nothing here was natural.
Nothing here was alive.
This was not a world.
It was a punishment.
And within that punishment stood KRRISH.
Still.
Unshaken.
Silent.
There was no curiosity in his eyes.
No hesitation.
Only a strange calm—
the calm of someone who wasn't seeing this for the first time…
…but remembering it.
Then—
The mist shifted.
Ten figures emerged.
Demons.
Their bodies were distorted—bones tearing through flesh, limbs twisted unnaturally, eyes hollow yet burning with endless hunger. Their presence alone polluted the air further, making the realm feel even heavier.
They did not speak.
Because here, the weak did not threaten—
They attacked.
But before even a single step could be taken—
KRRISH raised his hand.
No chant.
No effort.
Just a quiet voice—
"Rise… Sword of Water."
For a brief moment—
The entire world paused.
The mist froze.
The ground stopped breathing.
Then—
The void itself tore open.
A violent ripple spread through the air, and from that distortion… something emerged.
A sword.
Not forged from metal—
But from water.
Yet this was no ordinary water.
It did not flow.
It did not drip.
It moved with intention.
Every ripple along its surface felt like a blade within a blade. Every wave carried the weight of destruction. It wasn't water—
It was judgment.
The next moment—
Everything ended.
The demons didn't even get the chance to scream.
Their bodies collapsed simultaneously, as if existence itself had rejected them. Flesh, bone, energy—everything dissolved, erased so completely that even their presence vanished from the air.
Not death.
Annihilation.
Silence returned.
KRRISH lowered his hand.
The sword trembled slightly… then dissolved back into nothingness, merging with the air as if it had never existed.
He looked around slowly.
Taking everything in.
"So this is it…" he murmured.
"The world of demons."
His voice carried no fear.
Only acknowledgment.
But deep within—
He knew.
This was only the surface.
Because the truth wasn't that he had defeated demons so easily.
The truth was—
He had been brought here.
Not by chance.
Not by accident.
But by something far more dangerous—
Anger.
Far away…
Beyond layers of blood, destruction, and chaos—
A realm burned.
Not with fire—
But with emotion.
The Realm of Anger.
Here, anger was not just a feeling.
It was power.
It was law.
It was existence itself.
And at the center of that realm—
Sat Rudrak.
The Demon King of Anger.
His body resembled a silent volcano—still on the outside, yet constantly on the verge of eruption. Every second, energy built within him, suppressed… contained… but never gone.
Because his anger was not loud.
It was patient.
In the past—
A fragment of his soul had crossed into the Human World.
Not as a visitor.
But as a conqueror.
The moment it entered, balance shattered. The skies trembled, the earth cracked, and war spread like wildfire.
But then—
KRRISH appeared.
That fragment… fought with everything it had.
Power meant to dominate worlds was unleashed without restraint.
Yet—
It wasn't enough.
In a single decisive moment—
KRRISH erased it.
Not sealed.
Not weakened.
Erased.
Completely.
And in that exact instant—
Rudrak felt it.
Something inside him broke.
What rose wasn't simple anger.
It was humiliation.
Loss.
And vengeance—
All fused into one.
A rage so deep… it did not scream.
It waited.
Unable to enter the Human World himself, Rudrak extended his will outward, manipulating minds, bending events, forcing circumstances to align.
Everything—
Had been leading to this moment.
He didn't need to see KRRISH's face.
He didn't need confirmation.
Because for him, only one truth existed—
KRRISH had to die.
And now—
KRRISH had entered his world.
The Demon World.
A place ruled not by chaos alone—
But by hierarchy.
Ten realms existed within it, each born from a dominant force, each ruled by a Demon King.
At the lowest level lay the Realm of Blood.
A place where slaughter was existence itself.
Ruled by Wrath, the Blood Emperor, it was considered the weakest realm—but also the most relentless. Blood here was not just spilled… it was absorbed. As long as it surrounded them, demons could regenerate endlessly.
This—
Was where KRRISH stood now.
Above it existed the Realm of Destruction, where nothing was permanent.
Then the Realm of Lust, where minds were enslaved before bodies.
The Realm of Strength, where only brute force defined worth.
The Realm of Greediness, where everything—even souls—was traded.
The Realm of Smartness, where wars were decided before they began.
The Realm of Chaos, where reality itself broke apart.
The Realm of Dragons, where beings of pure devastation ruled the skies.
The Realm of Anger, where rage became immortality.
And at the highest layer—
The Realm of Darkness.
Where even existence was consumed.
At the very center of all realms—
Lay the Eternal Core.
The domain of the Demon Emperor.
The one to whom all others bowed.
But that presence…
Remained distant.
For now.
KRRISH began to walk.
Each step changed the ground beneath him.
Black stone shifted into deep crimson.
Then into a red so intense—
It no longer looked like blood.
It looked like hunger.
The air thickened further.
The smell of iron became unbearable.
And from every direction—
Eyes.
Watching.
Waiting.
This realm was weak.
But it was merciless.
And somewhere within it—
Lay the First Key.
KRRISH stopped for a brief moment.
And for the first time—
He understood something clearly.
This world did not just want to kill him.
It wanted to break him.
Far away—
The ground trembled.
Heavy… slow… deliberate footsteps echoed through the blood-soaked land.
Something massive was approaching.
From within the darkness—
A shadow rose.
KRRISH stopped walking.
And this time—
A faint spark appeared in his eyes.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Interest.
"So…"
His voice was low.
"This is the first guardian."
The Realm of Blood had awakened.
And now—
The game had truly begun.
To be continued… 🔥