Death God Nakbet stood midair above the Ajia Royal City, scrutinizing every mortal that came and went within the city.
The scythe, once shimmering with a frosty glint, was now darkened to a purplish-black hue. Upon close observation, one could see the blade's patterns etched with skulls the size of heads; some screamed shrilly, some struggled fiercely, some awaited in silence, some appeared serene and gentle...
These were the souls Nakbet had reaped from among the Three-eyed Ape People these days.
Like a diligent farmer welcoming the harvest season, the reaper tirelessly raised and dropped his scythe, cutting down the heads of countless wheat stalks awaiting their fate. With every fall of Death God's scythe, an untold number of mortals also left their bodies for good.
