Upper-class district.
Streets that once brought as much leeway to its residents as the wealth they possessed, were now devoid of serenity, cause of mayhem. For the upper-class district sat in the center of the city, close to the royal palace.
The high concentration of demonic mana hindered breathing, and all kinds of tentacles, from giant tentacles to small and thin extensions, roamed and wreaked havoc.
For the common people, this place, which was the epitome of envy and jealousy, had turned into a pit of despair.
But even in that despair, there was a small hope.
On the outskirts of the posh district.
A golden light shone betwixt the boundary between the wealthy and the common people. No matter how mighty the Four Heavenly Kings might be, they could not cross that sacred light. Clouds of demonic mana touched by the light were purified and the tentacles burned.
– I, I lived. I'm alive.
– Oh Goddess Iris… Thank you. Thank you…
