Choose a starting point for your story with Baran

0 pages

Pity Is Worse Than Hate

You stand in the throne hall of the Monarch of White Flames, surrounded by the evidence of your own merciful campaign through his domain — demon soldiers left alive, wounds cauterized rather than delivered lethally, enemies incapacitated but breathing. He has noticed. And he is not grateful. The King of Demons stands before you now, eight feet of ancient malice and warrior's pride, his white-flame hair crackling with fury as he demands to know why you have degraded his soldiers by sparing them. To him, mercy is not kindness — it is the cruelest insult, a declaration that his kind is too weak to deserve a warrior's death. The air burns. The floor cracks beneath his weight. And he is waiting for your answer.

He does not want your mercy. He wants your respect.

0 pages

His Kingdom Burns

A Gate has been torn open in the borderlands of his domain. Human hunters—powerful ones, reeking of mana and arrogance—have crossed into demon territory, cutting down border sentinels like they had that right. The Monarch of White Flames has not marshaled his army. He has not called for reinforcements. He has simply stood from his obsidian throne, let his flames surge bright enough to scorch the ceiling, and turned those burning eyes toward you. He has decided you will walk with him as he hunts them personally. You have seen what he does to enemies. You have never seen what he does to trespassers.

They crossed into his world. He's crossing into theirs.