The main square of the Doom Clan was vast, less a gathering place and more a battlefield. Crimson clouds swirled overhead, casting the ground in a blood-hued glow. The air pulsed with raw demonic energy as six young Asuras in the Qi condensation realm stood beneath the sky.
Only six had qualified. The rest will follow when they also condense their Qi into a Qi sea.
At the front stood Malikai Doom. His expression was unreadable, his presence like a silent storm. Crimson hair drifted with the wind, and his gaze—deep red and unblinking—seemed to pierce through time itself.
Beside him, Anzu smirked, arms crossed. His golden eyes gleamed with relentless confidence. Conflict was his fuel, and Malikai was his favorite fire.
To their side, Asakku, descendant of Aamon, wore arrogance like armor. He shot a glance toward the quiet girl in their ranks.
"You enjoy being alone, don't you?" he mused toward Renna, his tone dipped in condescension.
She didn't answer.
Didn't even blink.
Further back, Botis, of Byron's lineage, stood with wild hair and an untamed aura. He sneered at the onlookers—lesser youths watching from the sidelines, enjoying how they flinched beneath his gaze.
Lastly, Andras, son of the elder Asag and representative of the opposition faction, remained quiet. Calculating. His gaze drifted between Malikai and Anzu, thoughts masked behind calm eyes.
Three of them had broken into Qi Condensation with elixirs—gifts from their ambitious elders.
Anzu tilted his head, eyes locked on Malikai.
"You're oddly quiet today," he said with a grin. "Not scared, are you?"
Malikai didn't react.
Didn't blink.
Didn't even acknowledge him.
It was as if Anzu didn't exist.
Anzu's grin wavered.
Before tension could snap into violence, a deep horn echoed across the square. A monstrous warship descended from the heavens, its hull carved from black metal, its wings trembling with restrained might.
One by one, they boarded—each escorted by a silent Dao Protector, shrouded in shadow, bound to interfere only if fate itself tilted the scales.
Their journey to Bloodforge City had begun.
Beyond the Doom Clan, beyond Bloodforge City, the world itself was a battlefield in waiting.
The Four Holy Lands existed in fragile balance—veiled peace covering buried grudges. Among them, the humans were weakest in cultivation. Though they had four Godlord ancestors, their strength came from numbers and strategy.
To overcome their racial inferiority, humans allied with the Divine Beast Alliance. Inter-race marriages flourished, weaving weaker beast bloodlines into human veins.
But the high races—Dragons, Phoenixes, and Qilins—viewed such unions with disdain. Their legacies were ancient, with 1 Godlord divine beast each. Their Paragon and Empyrean forces are unrivaled. Yet, despite their contempt, they could not stop the spread.
The Divine Beast Alliance was not a single clan, but a force of nine major divine beast clans. Among them, two unexpected clans also had birthed Godlords:
The Void Serpent Nagarajin Clan and The Lunafae Moonlight Clan, children of moon and starlight.
Lastly, Celestial Hall—home to the Angels.
They possessed five Godlords and one eternal hatred.
They had never forgiven the Asuras.
Not since the war that scorched eons.
Not since an Angelic Godlord had fallen to the Godlords of the Doom Clan.
The wound had never healed.
Below the Holy Lands, a rare status existed—Quasi-Holy Domains. Neither Supreme Lands nor true Holy Lands. They held multiple Godlords and stood as rising forces.
Only two existed.
Seraphel Dominion Clan
Made of a Race called Solari with two Godlords
The Solari were Ascended Kin—mortal-born beings uplifted by Angelic blood. Wings of fire, halos inscribed with celestial script, and bodies aglow with light. Though not true Angels, they served as divine weapons, wielders of Radiance, Light, and Judgment.
In war, they marched beside their angelic creators, a golden legion of wrath.
Vulkran Pyreclan
Made of a race called Ifryx, created by the Doom Clan with three Godlords
The Ifryx were chaos incarnate—born from fire-elemental spirits and Asura blood. Bodies of molten stone, horns of obsidian, and eyes that burned like suns. They didn't rise—they erupted. On battlefields, they were nightmares. In war, they were inevitable.
Where the Solari shone with order, the Ifryx roared with destruction.
Both domains were bound to greater powers—yet both teetered on the edge of something more.
Below the quasi-holy lands are the multiple supreme lands with one God lord each.
The 8 primes can be considered as one of the most powerful prime worlds in existence due to having multiple Godlord entities.