Knight_Plot

Birth rates are decreasing. Hope is vanishing. The world has gone gray.

Humanity, drifting in quiet collapse, receives an email.

Every person on Earth. Simultaneously.

The Aegis Mandate.

Disguised as a cosmic aptitude test, it triggers The Incident of Separation—a global psychic cataclysm that erases identities, wipes memories, and divides all survivors into three factions: Law, Neutral, and Chaos. Overnight, cities become battlegrounds. Apartments become dungeons. Ordinary people become monsters—or the ones who hunt them.

Ragnar Vhagar was just a loner university student. Now, thanks to a system he didn’t ask for, he’s a newly minted Demon King, locked in a crumbling apartment with goblins under his sofa and a glowing soul crystal next to his frozen peas. His new job? Build a deadly domain, defend it from invading “Heroes,” and somehow level up fast enough to not die.

Alongside him is Isabelle Thorne, a razor-sharp warrior of few words and one very sharp sword. Their reluctant alliance, born in blood and snark, evolves into trust—and maybe something dangerously close to affection—as they rise together through the layers of the game-like world they’re trapped in.

With each conquered domain and defeated boss, Ragnar realizes the truth: the dungeons aren’t meant to crown a winner. They’re meant to break the players. The Law faction wants control. The Chaos faction craves destruction. But Ragnar? He wants something they’re all too afraid to say out loud:

Freedom.

In the ruins of Kanta’s ogre stronghold, Ragnar and his misfit warband take their biggest step yet—claiming a kingdom, unifying a fractured system, and preparing for what comes next. The Heroes are watching. The gods are stirring. The world is watching a war.

And somewhere deep beneath it all... Ragnar is rewriting the rules.

I Can Easily Defeat SSS Ranks... This World Is Already Mine

His B-Rank Alchemy skill wasn't just a stat on a screen; it was a torrent of instinct and knowledge that flowed through his hands.

He could feel the stress points in the metal, sense the perfect temperature for quenching, and see the faint lines of power waiting to be etched into a blade.

He hammered, folded, and shaped the ingots he'd smelted from Gorgon's leftover arsenal, turning crude iron clubs and ogre armor into gleaming, high-grade steel.

He was a demonic blacksmith, forging the tools of his coming empire.

On the fourth day, he was finished.

He stood back from the anvil, wiping a sheen of sweat from his pale brow, and admired his handiwork.

Five masterpieces lay cooling on a stone slab.

He called his core Bloodkin to the Throne Room.

Isabelle, Chloe, Reina, Fenris, and Grunt assembled before him, their monstrous and elegant forms a bizarre but formidable tableau.

The Quartermaster King