The Prelude of Devoration

Ignathar, the Kingdom of Primordial Forges, pulsed with renewed energy under an orange sky, where the setting sun tinted the basalt mountains with fiery tones. Colossal forges echoed with rhythmic hammer clangs, creating weapons and tools symbolizing the people’s resilience. Controlled magma rivers flowed in channels, warming polished-stone villages where smiths and artisans worked in harmony, their laughter mixing with the sound of metal being shaped. The air smelled of hot coal and freshly forged iron, an aroma of creation inspiring hope. The inhabitants—human smiths, dwarven forgers, and fire elementals—celebrated the peace won by their hero, with feasts in copper-glowing squares, where artisanal ale flowed and stories of past glories were shared. But for Thorne, the Hero of Ignathar, this tranquility was a fragile illusion, a prelude to something dark.Thorne walked the streets of the central village, his black plate armor gleaming under the forge flames. His Hammer of the Eon rested on his shoulder, pulsing with the relic’s energy he had won. He stopped to help: forging a legendary sword for a young dwarf, Dorrin, who looked at him with admiration. “You’re Ignathar’s heart, Thorne,” Dorrin said, testing the blade. Thorne smiled, but his thoughts were far away: The dragon disappeared. In the game, he was right in the Petrified Sanctuary. What happened? Without the dragon’s pact, how will I face the Corruptor? He felt a growing unease, as if the air, despite the comforting heat of the forges, carried a subtle chill, a premonition that something bad was about to happen.As Thorne inspected the defenses—steel towers with protective runes he had reinforced with his relic—the inhabitants interacted around him, highlighting the kingdom’s peace. Veyra, the fire elemental with flaming hair, laughed with a group of smiths: “With Thorne here, even corrupted golems flee!” Korath, the stone golem with a deep voice, nodded: “He gave us hope. The kingdom’s never been stronger.” Lyssia, the human smith with burn scars, distributed tools: “Thanks to him, we forge not just weapons, but a future.” Thorne, hearing the laughter, felt the contrast: the reality of the kingdom was joy and peace, but his thoughts were a whirlwind of worry. They celebrate, but I sense... something approaching. The dragon’s disappearance isn’t coincidence. The Corruptor’s behind this?Thorne’s rest was short. He sat in a square, watching the people, but the premonition consumed him. The kingdom reflects joy, but I foresee chaos. Something bad is about to happen—I feel it in my bones. His ATHOMIS player intuition warned of impending boss fights, and the emptiness in the Petrified Sanctuary unsettled him. “I need to find the dragon,” he murmured to himself, standing up.Suddenly, the ground shook, and a guttural roar echoed from the distant mountains. A colossal figure emerged on the horizon: Ghultar, the Gluttony, now transformed by absorbing Ignathar’s dragon. Her demonic appearance was terrifying—obese body covered in black stone scales cracked with infernal red glow, dragon runes etched on her skin pulsing with darkness, eyes burning like liquid magma, and cracked stone wings beating heavily, scattering ash. Horns of basalt crowned her head, and multiple mouths scattered across her body drooled insatiable hunger. She attacked the village, her Essence Devour sucking the life from an entire forge, turning smiths into empty husks.Thorne, with the Hammer of the Eon in hand, leaped into action. “Protect the people!” he shouted to the inhabitants, while rushing to meet Ghultar, the hammer glowing with primordial energy. The epic clash between the hero and the demon was about to begin, and Thorne felt the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders.