The Klan Empire had enjoyed seven years of prosperity, with peace throughout its lands and its people living in security.
The entire nation flourished in harmony. Cities stood in great numbers, merchants traveled without end, fields yielded abundant harvests, and the court remained stable.
Yet no one knew that beneath this seemingly everlasting prosperity, dark currents were already surging.
A terrifying crisis capable of toppling the entire Yulan Continent and exterminating billions of living beings had long lurked silently in the darkness. It needed only an opportunity to erupt in full and swallow all the world's prosperity.
Several years earlier, large numbers of unfamiliar refugees had begun pouring through the Klan Empire's border passes in an unending stream.
These people came from the wilderness beyond its borders, their origins unknown. Every one of them wore ragged clothes, their bodies skeletal and their faces as pale as paper.
Deep in their eyes lingered an unshakable terror and despair, as though they had personally witnessed the most horrifying sights in the world.
Whenever the border soldiers questioned them about their origins, the refugees gave confused, fragmented answers.
They kept muttering about savage beasts beyond the borders, endless villains, and a disaster of broken cages. Every broken phrase brimmed with utter panic, certainly not deliberate fabrication.
From the moment the first group of refugees set foot in Kelan's territory.
An invisible, heavy, utterly oppressive gloom began slowly spreading across the skies and earth of the entire Yulan Continent.
Though dark clouds had yet to blot out the sky, a lingering chill settled over the hearts of every high-ranking expert.
Across the continent, the royal experts of the great empires and the leaders of the great churches all grew uneasy.
In some mysterious way, everyone sensed it.
The peace that had lasted countless years