For several days in a row, torrential rain had poured down.
Compared to the gloomy weather, the people of the Western Continent felt even heavier at heart.
Because they had to leave their homeland, leave this sun-filled world, and head for the Demon Realm, where daylight never shone.
Exactly when the enmity between the Demon Realm and the human world had begun could no longer be verified. But the hatred forged between the two sides could be traced back through N cycles of five hundred years. Every five hundred years, a life-and-death war would erupt between them.
In the history of the human world, the Devil Race had been synonymous with brutality and viciousness. More than once, they had sought to invade the prosperous human world, only to return empty-handed before humanity's valiant resistance. Thus, many human heroes whose names would endure through the ages had been born.
Throughout the ages, more than one person had imagined the human allied forces crushing the Demon Realm's army, charging into the Demon Realm, conquering it in one stroke, and eradicating future troubles forever. Yet no one had ever imagined that one day, humanity would enter the Demon Realm in this fashion.
Migration.
And the migration of everyone at that. To put it bluntly, they were fleeing from disaster.
All because of that great catastrophe.
White Sea had turned into land amid the terrifying war of powerful beings. Humanity could no longer use the advantage of the terrain to resist the Abyss. The Abyssal army had likewise been more than half wiped out in the battle at White Sea, but Abyssal monsters were inexhaustible. As long as they were given time, they would soon spawn anew. When they launched their next all-out assault, humanity would have no path but extinction. The fall of