The Return of Corey

During the Great War, countless lives were lost—humans, elves, dwarves, and many others. It was a massacre of unprecedented proportions, one where hope was as fleeting as a fading star. The culprits behind this carnage? The demons, creatures who vehemently refused to bow before the hands of the gods. These divine beings, striving to maintain peace, urged their rebellious creations to relent. Yet, their pleas fell on deaf ears.

But why, one might ask, could the gods not subdue their own creations?

The answer lay in their divine nature. As guardians of reality's delicate balance, the gods were bound to their celestial thrones, unable to interfere directly. They could only act through proxies, lending fragments of their immense power to mortals. Thus, four chosen ones, each from a different race, were bestowed with divine blessings. These youths, once frail and powerless, became the world's defenders—rulers appointed by the heavens to confront the demonic scourge.

With newfound might, the four champions rallied their forces and struck back against the demons. Yet, as victory seemed within reach, the demons resorted to subterfuge, retreating into the shadows to plot their resurgence.

But amidst the chaos, one god wove a scheme far beyond mortal comprehension, one even their divine kin could not foresee. The god of wisdom, Athena, was driven mad by the unending destruction and the loss of her cherished children. Her despair led to a fateful error—she poured her divine power into the hands of the very demons she sought to oppose.

This catastrophic mistake tipped the scales irrevocably. The demons, emboldened by Athena's power, crushed their enemies with renewed fervor. Even the four chosen rulers fell before their might, reduced to vassals of the Demon King Astaroth—a being whose strength rivaled the gods themselves.

Astaroth, a tyrant of unparalleled power, ruled the world for centuries, his reign unchallenged. The gods, desperate to reclaim balance, resolved to take a dangerous gamble: they would grant their blessings not to champions, but to their races as a whole. This "Blessing" was unlike anything before—a system of power that allowed mortals to grow stronger indefinitely through experience and combat. With each victory, their strength would ascend beyond mortal limits, granting them immortality and unimaginable abilities.

The gods placed their hopes in four newborns, each from a different race. These infants, unwittingly chosen, were destined to bear the burden of salvation. They would become humanity's pillars, the last hope in a world consumed by darkness.

The Four Souls of Prósopon, the races ruled by the demons:

An Elf: Eleanor Astor, the daughter of the former Elf Queen, received the Blessing of Aphrodite. This Blessing bestowed upon her an incredible aptitude for magic, as well as an unfathomable supply of mana. Her magical prowess was so remarkable that she didn't need to study magic—it flowed from her like a natural extension of her being, an inherent part of her soul. It was as though the world itself bent to her will.

A Dwarf: Robert Smedsson, born to a Dwarf who had been a slave to one of the Demon King's wives. With his father having been so close to a ruler of the world, Robert was abandoned with the Elf Queen— the furthest removed from the demonic royalty. The Dwarf exhibited exceptional talent with any weapon, combining his craftsmanship with a modest amount of magic. His Blessing, granted by the god Hephaestus, the god of smithing, gave him the ability to create any weapon he could imagine—so long as his mana reserves allowed. His skill was unparalleled, his creations seemingly born from his very soul.

A Beastman: Raynold Cohen, the son of a drug dealer, was not born through a normal delivery. From the moment of his birth, Raynold used his Blessing, manifesting an incredible strength that allowed him to carry mountains even as a child. Given the Blessing of Mars, the god of war, Raynold was granted not only immense physical power but also extraordinary magical abilities—two aspects in which he excelled. His physical form alone could rival the might of a hundred warriors.

And lastly, a Half-Blood:

Coreygrey Gallant, a child born of both human and dragon blood. His father, a human slave and assistant to the Demon King Astaroth, and his mother, a half-dragon, the daughter of the Demon King's brother, Belcebú, were never meant to be. Coreygrey was abandoned on a distant island, far from the last remaining continent, the world's lone sanctuary. His Blessing, a gift from his draconic heritage, transformed him into a being of obsidian armor, with his body cloaked in its dark sheen. His transformation was striking—horns grew from his skull, curling backward with sharp, forked tips that twisted in a display of ominous power.

When Coreygrey reunited with the other three blessed children, he was hailed as the "perfect hybrid," his power unmatched. His strength, magic, mana, and weapon mastery placed him far above his peers, earning him the title of captain of the Four Souls of Prósopon. He was, in essence, the embodiment of divine potential—a force capable of reshaping the very world.

But how did they meet, if they were so separated? The gods, recognizing the necessity of unification, assigned an assistant to each child—each one an Archangel. Yet, these assistants, despite their divine origin, were powerless against the demons. Their arrogance and pride, a product of their celestial nature, rendered them impotent in the face of the demon threat.

War Declaration: A Letter from Grey to Astaroth

The king rose from his throne, his body rippling with unholy energy as he began his massacre, slaughtering a large portion of the battalion under Grey's command. The battlefield was cramped, chaotic, with every inch a struggle for survival. Within days, the King descended from his castle, facing the Four Blessed Children, who had begun to take their place in the world's epic conflict.

The first clash of their powers shook the earth itself, thunder splitting the heavens. The four souls momentarily faltered, allowing the king's devastating assault to push them back. But Grey seized the opportunity, darting behind Astaroth as the king struggled to maintain his dominance. Eleanor, ever tactical, unleashed gravitational magic, trapping the king beneath the earth with all her might, his resistance faltering. Robert and Raynold, ready to fight to the bitter end, thrust their spears into the king's body, hoping to pierce through the great beast's defenses.

Cornered, Astaroth unleashed a devastating shockwave from within, sending ripples through the ground. Grey, however, had already positioned himself, his blade—crafted by Robert—sinking into the king's heart. The weapon, Zadkiel, was no ordinary sword; its unique ability to extend like a whip granted it an edge in the midst of battle.

But the king, battered and on the verge of collapse, summoned every last ounce of power. He detonated his own body in a violent explosion, taking Grey with him in a final act of defiance. The blast obliterated everything around them, wiping out most of the forces on the battlefield. When the dust cleared, Grey lay on the ground, his body broken, yet his immortality began to heal him.

But something was wrong—his regeneration didn't take hold. Screaming in agony, Grey called out for help, his body burned beyond recognition. Three figures approached, watching him with disdain: Raynold, Robert, and Eleanor. His supposed closest allies, now cold and indifferent, stood over him as he writhed in pain. They did nothing but watch, offering no mercy.

When Grey finally lost consciousness, the three souls placed him in a coffin, binding him with magic to sleep eternally in a cave deep within the heart of the earth. Meanwhile, the three souls ruled over all races, their reigns unchallenged. They became kings of their respective realms, and the human continent was ruled by the person who had contributed most to the war effort—the disciple of Coreygrey Gallant.

And so, the immortality of the three souls was believed to ensure their reign would never end. Or so it was thought...