Where did it all go wrong?1

By the time the Apostle of Nightmare realized that his meticulously crafted plan was flawed, it was already too late.1

Even in that critical moment, his eyes darted around, scanning his surroundings. Countless souls were sinking into the boundless depths of the Sea of the Afterlife. In that vast abyss floated the abandoned souls, their faces devoid of expression, drifting aimlessly without purpose.0

But this was just the surface of a much darker reality. If he looked deeper, he would see the countless dregs that had sunk below, far too plentiful to count. It was a sight so unsettling that any living being would gaze upon it with a deep, instinctive disgust. Indeed, the Sea of the Afterlife was nothing less than a vast landfill, layered with the rotting remains of the dead.0

And yet to the Apostle of Nightmare, the scene was mesmerizing. Here, there was power—power that could make all his desires a reality.0

A Monarch was not simply a ruler, but the primordial darkness itself. The title of Monarch meant little. It was the primordial darkness that mattered most0

After years of careful study, the Apostle had learned that the World Tree served as a conduit,...0