Africa Leveling

The demon lord's right hand, Liko, chants in an ancient, guttural language, "Garamto Saburaba Leralus Kamtaga Sidel Forisia Mok! I call upon Ragma—take this pile of a thousand human bodies and bring forth a hero from the abyss!" His voice resonates in perfect harmony with four other mage-demons, each positioned in a ritual circle.

Between them lies the offering: a mound of mangled human bodies, pale and lifeless, their expressions frozen in terror.

The air grows thick and stifling, dark clouds gather in the cavernous chamber, and the ground rumbles. A sickly purple light spills from the summoning circle, casting sinister shadows across the walls. Suddenly, a hand bursts through the pile of bodies, clawing its way out, fingers grasping for life amidst the decay.

Slowly, a figure rises—a man draped in a pristine white cloak, his skin deathly pale, and wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

"Welcome, hero, to a new world. Your purpose is to help us take over this continent," says Liko, his face cold and unreadable. His voice cuts through the silence like a blade.

The hero, looking around in bewilderment, stammers, "Where… where am I? I was just… I was dying… And why do you have horns? Am I in hell?"

Liko's face twists with annoyance. "The horns are our birthright. Are you… being racist, hero?"

"Oh! No, no… Just… amazed, I suppose," the hero stutters, clearly rattled.

"Liko," comes a voice dripping with malice from the shadowy throne, "throw this hero into the dungeon and torture him until he's obedient."

The figure on the throne leans forward, a glint of light catching his cruel smile. The demon lord himself, shrouded in shadow save for his mouth, reveals just enough to make his presence all the more terrifying.

"Wait!" the hero shouts, his hands raised in submission. "I'm obedient—I just… I have a few questions. One: do you discriminate against evil scientists? Two: am I free to conduct any experiment I want? And three: what's in it for me?"

Liko raises a brow, intrigued despite himself. "When a hero completes his assigned mission in this world, he returns to his world with all the power he's gained here. And as for your other questions… we have no limitations on experimentation. We… encourage it."

The hero's eyes gleam with interest, curiosity overpowering his fear. "Interesting. And what if I told you I have a way for you to conquer not just this continent, but the entire world?"

The demon lord, who had been silently observing, shifts forward in his throne. The light reveals his face—a horrifying visage, with jet-black skin and eyes that burn with malice. His lips twist into a smirk. "You are starting to get… interesting."

A dark laughter fills the chamber, spilling from the demon lord, Liko, and even the newly summoned hero. Their maniacal chuckling echoes against the cavern walls, a symphony of malevolence.

Meanwhile, in a distant realm, the council of the four major kingdoms has also enacted their plan. In the majestic chamber of the human king, a group of heroes, including Kit Mi Kai, Jajwok, Kipkemboi, and Olamsuri, stand at attention before the king. His ornate robes shimmer in the torchlight as he addresses them in a rich, deep voice.

"The continent of Westoria has four major kingdoms: the Elves, the Orcs, the Dwarves, and our own, the Kingdom of Humans," he begins. "In a united decision, we have called upon heroes to help us defeat the demon lord, who threatens to turn our kingdoms to ash and bring ruin to all innocent lives."

Kit Mi Kai exchanges a glance with his comrades. The atmosphere in the chamber is heavy with anticipation.

"Each hero summoned here," the king continues, "is promised the strength to face the demons, and when the task is done, they may return to their world with all the power they've earned here. You'll begin your training in the Mage Academy, to grow your skills over the next two months. After that, an assessment will determine which kingdom will nurture you further."

Jajwok, tuning out the king's words, fidgets impatiently, muttering to himself, "What is he even saying? It's all gibberish."

The king's wife whispers to her husband, noticing the confused glances among the heroes. "My dear, I think they cannot understand you. It seems our communication mage has not yet performed the translation spell."

The king's expression hardens. "Where is the translation mage? And where is the third prince?" His frustration is evident.

The eldest prince steps forward and responds, "He's… still asleep, Father."

"That lazy boy will be the death of me one day!" the king mutters, struggling to maintain his composure in front of the assembled heroes.

Olamsuri, ever alert and perceptive, leans toward Kipkemboi. "Kipkemboi… notice anything odd? His skin tone… it doesn't look like ours."

Kipkemboi nods, he explains to her because she was yet to encounter different people

Before anyone can ask further questions, a figure rushes into the room—the third prince, haphazardly dressed and still looking drowsy. He bows awkwardly before the king and begins the translation spell, casting a soft blue glow that washes over the heroes.

The king, now translated in their own tongue, repeats, "Heroes, our world faces a crisis. You have been summoned here not merely as champions, but as the last hope of our kingdoms. Train well, strengthen your powers, and may you bring an end to this darkness."

The king's speech concludes with a grand gesture, and the heroes are led to their quarters in the sprawling palace, each lost in thoughts of the immense challenge ahead.

In a distant lair, the demon lord finishes laughing and leans back in his throne. He speaks to the scientist, who grins with barely contained enthusiasm. "Heroes may be strong," the demon lord says, his voice like gravel, "but I think we may have just found our answer."

A foreboding silence settles. Across the lands, heroes and villains alike prepare, for a conflict that will test the bounds of power and darkness.