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.