Haellagoria: The Demon Lord's Hidden Empire
The Withered Land. True to its name, it was a barren wasteland devoid of all life. This vast expanse in the southern reaches of the continent had long served as a haven for malevolent beings, and over time, their forces had steadily grown.
The wicked aura permeating the wasteland drew in hordes of monsters and demons, who engaged in ceaseless slaughter against one another day after day. Thanks to this, the Kingdom of Melos, which shared its border with the wasteland, was spared from direct assaults by these evil entities. The king of Melos confidently declared that the wasteland's monsters, consumed by mutual hatred in their endless battles, would eventually annihilate themselves.
But in the end, a being emerged who put an end to that long, protracted war and unified the wasteland: the great demon Haellagos.
Haellagos amassed his power while always eyeing the lands of Melos with predatory intent. In response, Melos reinforced its walls and bolstered its armies, casting a massive dark cloud over the border regions.
This is all the game lore I remember.
Yoahim glanced around, surveying his surroundings.
But... this doesn't look quite like what I remember?
Having passed through the gate alongside the Death Knight, Yoahim had arrived directly in the heart of the Withered Land—or more precisely, at a castle situated in its central region.
The sturdy walls, carved from massive stone blocks, were enormous, and the gate—reinforced with thick timber banded in iron—looked impervious to all but the mightiest assaults.
A castle? Here?
In Yoahim's memory, the Withered Land was nothing but a true wasteland. Populated solely by wild monsters, starving demons, and the solitary Spire Tower jutting from the earth. He had no recollection of a fortress this well-constructed.
This doesn't match the game knowledge I had.
Gargoyles flitted above the battlements, shrieking eerily as they circled before returning to their perches and reverting to stone statues. Yoahim tilted his head in puzzlement and followed the Death Knight across the barren ground.
A dry wind stung his cheeks. Soon, they stood before the imposing gates firmly planted amid the wasteland.
“O―pen―the―ga―te!”
It wasn't a mere shout—it was a thunderous roar that shook the soul itself. Yoahim startled and shot a glance at the Death Knight, who fell silent as a mute once more. In that moment, the massive gates creaked open.
“Welcome home, Sir Aljes.”
Waiting at the gates to greet the Death Knight and Yoahim was an elderly gentleman impeccably dressed in a crisp uniform. Yoahim's eyes widened—he hadn't expected to encounter a human-like figure in this wasteland.
The old man noticed his reaction and offered a small smile.
“……”
Death Knight Aljes merely dipped his head in acknowledgment of the greeting and strode inward. In a low voice, he added,
“A―com―pa―ny―ion―is―with―me.”
Each syllable dragged out—it seemed to be Aljes's peculiar habit. The old man nodded.
“There will be priests at the temple. Is this one Master's guest? I'll guide him there. You head to the temple, Sir Aljes.”
Aljes nodded and veered toward the temple. The old man turned to Yoahim with a genial smile.
“Pleased to meet you. I am Halbert, one of the five lieutenants who serve Master.”
Bowing with perfect poise, Halbert resembled a seasoned butler. But Yoahim knew he was no mere servant.
That much was obvious.
“You're no human. You're a Ma demon.”
He could tell at a glance. Halbert's appearance mimicked a human's, but he was no such thing. His true nature was that of a Ma demon—a race born in darkness, just like the demons. A fearsome being who had fought for the evil god in the ancient war between Laelro and Kakali.
Halbert's level was probably on par with Aljes's.
“Sharp eyes you've got. Correct—I am a Ma demon. But no need to worry. I don't eat people.”
The rumor that Ma demons devoured humans had circulated among mankind for ages. Of course, it was just malicious gossip about their kind. Yoahim couldn't tell if this was meant as a joke or a casual remark.
He forced an awkward smile.
“Nice to meet you. I'm Yoahim.”
“Apostle Yoahim.”
Halbert's eyes gleamed.
“Master was overjoyed after meeting you. He proclaimed that our god had sent an apostle. Whether you're truly worthy of bearing our fate remains to be seen, though…”
His gaze turned icy, as if challenging, What can a punk like you possibly do?
Yoahim swallowed hard but refused to look away.
Fuck, what're you gonna do, glare at me? He stared back with wide eyes, and Halbert burst into hearty laughter.
“Hahaha! No skill, but plenty of guts. Well, you can fill in the gaps from here on out, right? And I have high hopes for you. Whether you'll resolve our long-standing headache or not.”
“Headache?”
“I could explain now, but you'd best hear the details from Master himself. This way.”
Yoahim nodded and trailed after Halbert. Passing through the gates revealed a grand avenue ahead—paved so finely it rivaled the streets of Barakan, a major city.
Flanking the road were countless buildings: not just residences, but bustling shops, eateries, and inns. To an outsider, it might seem like a thriving metropolis within a kingdom.
Of course, this wasn't the Withered Land Yoahim remembered.
Well-maintained roads, abundant structures, vibrant streets.
“……Impressive.”
Calling the Withered Land Haellagos's domain had always been more metaphor than fact. A ruler couldn't govern nothingness. But witnessing this, Haellagos was truly the grand lord of the Withered Land in every sense. If he'd forged this city's prosperity from barren soil, it was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
“Amazed by the city, are you? Understandable. The people of Melos think there's nothing here but wasteland.”
Yoahim nodded at Halbert's words.
“Never imagined a city this developed in the Withered Land. All Haellagos's doing?”
Halbert didn't chide him for using his master's name so casually. He smiled and replied,
“This city's name is Haellagoria—the city of the great demon Haellagos. If you're asking whether its prosperity is his achievement, then yes. All thanks to Master's designs.”
Yoahim marveled at the sights. Haellagos seemed to possess a temperament utterly unlike what he'd imagined.
“But the residents here…”
Halbert nodded.
“Ma demons and dark elves dwell within the city. Not exclusively—undead live here too. Demons, due to their size, reside outside, but we don't discriminate. Race doesn't matter; all are Master's subjects.”
Most figures traversing Haellagoria were Ma demons and dark elves. What surprised Yoahim was the sheer number of dark elves. Take Leon and Sasha—they were exceptions, but most dark elves had converted to Laelro's faith or been hunted by holy knights. Those faithful to Kakali were all but extinct.
Yet Haellagoria teemed with them, enough to suggest every last Kakali-worshipping dark elf had gathered here.
“We Ma demons could never blend with humans, so we accepted Master's rule. But the dark elves came of their own accord. They're all content with life here.”
Halbert spoke with evident pride in Haellagos's reign. Yoahim nodded slowly.
“Truly astonishing. Who'd have thought Haellagos governed a city so masterfully. But then why…”
Yoahim trailed off, but Halbert grasped his meaning.
“Why doesn't the great demon rule his minions through brute force? True, that's more demonic—and effective.”
All creatures forget favors easily but never the lash's sting. To dominate, the whip outshines the carrot. Haellagos had no need to build a city or shelter Ma demons, dark elves, and undead. His overwhelming might ensured none could defy him, mercy or no.
“But what would be the point? Master's goal is to rule this world, not lead it to ruin. Toppling all foes and standing at the world's center means nothing if there's nothing left to govern.”
Haellagos sought not the world's destruction, but dominion over it in Kakali's name. Thus, he ruled not by force alone. He was the grand lord of Haellagoria, wielding mercy and dignity.
Though that mercy extended solely to his followers. It would never touch Melos—or any servant of Laelro.
“I see… Haellagos is greater than I imagined.”
“Hahaha. Naturally. He's the one I serve as master. I don't pledge myself to just anyone.”
Halbert brimmed with pride in his lord—and himself. Yoahim nodded and kept pace.
“Not everyone welcomes Master's will, though. Even sharing a god, interpretations of doctrine vary. Some see the God of Death as an absolute destroyer, believing only annihilation is true worship.”
“Who're they?”
“Who else? The mightiest among us: the Ashen Dragon Bellrallion. He believes all must be destroyed, their souls offered to Kakali—even himself in the end.”
Yoahim furrowed his brow at the name.
“And many echo his views. Fools, all of them. Death is but one side of a coin with life. You can't separate the faces, just as life and death are inseparable. Death without birth—what meaning could it hold?”
Yoahim hummed thoughtfully. Haellagos was far less demonic than expected—not just in governance, but in his philosophy on life and death. Granting power, saving his life, even offering training, all for being Kakali's apostle… Maybe Haellagos wasn't such a bad demon after all?
Lost in such thoughts, Yoahim suddenly bumped into something. Looking up, he saw Halbert halted, smiling faintly.
“We've arrived. This is Master's residence.”
Yoahim gazed upward. A colossal tower, tapering skyward in dizzying spirals—the symbol of the Withered Land, the Spire Tower.