Revenge: A Path of Destruction
Chapter 132: Europe (1)

Chapter 132: Europe (1)

Europe —

Unlike the Earth Domain—formerly known as Africa—Europe had retained its name. It was more than nostalgia. It was defiance. A belief that even in a world rewritten by gods and monsters, some names deserved to endure.

Names carried weight, legacy, a memory of what once was. And for the humans of Europe, history mattered.

But memory was no shield against change.

Change had come anyway—slow at first, then sudden, like a fault line splitting beneath the surface. The continent was now quite literally divided, not just in power but in geography.

A colossal wall, taller than the highest towers of old London and longer than the Great Wall of China, now splits East from West. A new scar was carved across the land.

On the eastern side, humanity still held its ground—58% of the continent’s landmass, governed by a hierarchy of clans and bloodlines. Organized. Defended. Claimed.

On the western side, the wild ruled. Magical beasts, unchained, dominated 42% of the terrain. It was a realm of primal force, untouched by civilization, where nature evolved under the influence of magic.

The dividing line was not random. It cleaved through the heart of the old world—through Germany’s forests, Austria’s peaks, Switzerland’s valleys, and fragments of the Czech Republic—turning old nations into boundary zones, each one now little more than a memory beneath the structure of war.

The wall itself was a marvel—a fusion of magic and technology, its foundations carved deep into the earth and its surface layered with mana-forged alloys, enchanted stone, and embedded watchtowers.

It traversed mountains and rivers with equal indifference, stretching past old cities, weaving through them, consuming them. Some parts of the wall were built atop ruins; others swallowed entire towns that had refused to evacuate in time.

To the people, it was more than a defense—it was a line of psychological order. A reminder that despite everything, they had drawn a boundary and said: "This far, no further."

But the wall was not invincible.

Winged beasts still flew over it. Tunnelers dug beneath it. And worse, some creatures never breached it because they were already inside.

Though rare, magical beasts still roamed the human side, living in deep forests, mountains, or cities, with the highest being in the King- and Queen-ranked. Their presence was tolerated only until confirmed—and then eradicated.

But should an Emperor or Empress-ranked beast ever emerge on this side of the wall, the response would be immediate. Brutal. Absolute.

That was the role of the clans. Not governments. Not councils. Not presidents or parliaments. Clans.

Human Europe was no longer unified by nation-states—it was structured by power, lineage, and elemental dominion. A triple-layered ring of civilization, each zone reflecting its own purpose, privilege, and peril.

The Outer Ring

This was the edge—the first line of defense. The cities here were fortresses, walled and warded, constantly buzzing with activity. Airships passed overhead in rotation. Scouts and sensor mages patrolled the skies. Defensive enchantments glowed faintly on rooftops, powered by underground mana conduits.

Here lived the Lesser Clans—families whose godly ancestry was from lesser gods. Fire, ice, stone, wind—each clan specialized, and each was tasked with defending its assigned sector of the wall.

It was not a quiet life.

The Outer Ring was a crucible, where children learned combat before literacy, and blood on one’s blade meant one had survived another day. Cities rose like bastions from the broken earth, and between them stretched no-man’s-lands of ruined towns, charred soil, and ancient battlefields that never stayed silent for long.

Yet for all its hardship, the Outer Ring was a place of honor.

To survive, there was to earn the respect of even the highest bloodlines. It was where young warriors were forged, where clans tested their worth, and where the names of the fallen were etched into stone obelisks that lined the wall itself.

The wall stood, not because it could not be breached, but because the people who lived beside it refused to let it fall.

The Middle Ring

As the distance from the wall increased, the sky grew quieter, and the land more orderly. Roads were paved. Mana trains hummed along their tracks. Cities here were designed not to repel invasion, but to produce, coordinate, and maintain.

This was the realm of the Intermediate Clans.

With bloodlines to intermediate gods, they served as the administrators of Europe’s war machine. They were the logisticians, the architects, the artificers. Their cities housed mana forges, training academies, arcane laboratories, and command centers carved deep underground.

These clans did not stand on the wall, but they ensured the wall could stand.

They crafted the armor, refined the enchantments, bred warbeasts, calibrated drones, and maintained communication between the layers. Trade flowed here, as did knowledge. And though their hands were clean of daily bloodshed, their decisions often determined the survival of thousands.

Where the Outer Ring lived in fire and steel, the Middle Ring ran on discipline and information. Here, battles were not won, but wars were planned.

Then there was the Core part.

At the center of the human-controlled territory, nestled within dense mountain ranges, untouchable forests, and river systems, lay the Core—a land few ever saw, and fewer dared to approach without invitation.

This was the domain of the Wind Clan, one of the Four Higher Clans—and the only one that ruled from Europe.

Their cities did not rise—they floated, suspended by spells. Most of their strongholds were built on mountain peaks where air thinned and mortals faltered. Storms curled lazily around their territory, as if waiting for a command.

The Wind Clan ruled not through enforcement, but through presence.

They did not defend the wall because they did not need to, as they were the ruler of the continent. No army had ever reached them. None ever would.

As they controlled everything with an iron grip, while also benevolent to those who were loyal.

As they ensured everything was under their control, it became tamed and loyal only to its masters.

And in their midst was the ruler of the Wind Clan, Cassius Aeolus.

The Legend rank Knight.