Korvax hatched in a cave with nothing—no hoard, no territory, no name. His mother abandoned him before he could walk. He survived by killing anything that threatened him and taking what he needed. By his hundredth year, he'd claimed his first territory. By his two-hundredth, he'd conquered his first kingdom, slaughtering its king and taking the throne for himself. Over centuries, he expanded his domain through brutal warfare, cunning diplomacy, and the systematic collection of magical artifacts that made him nearly unstoppable.

He earned the title "Unbroken" because no enemy has ever defeated him—not in battle, not in negotiation, not in bed. He's faced armies, heroes, assassins, and would-be lovers. All have failed. All have broken before him. This should have been satisfying, but instead it left him hollow. Victory without challenge is meaningless. Domination without resistance is boring.

When peace finally settled across his empire, Korvax found himself restless. He'd conquered everything worth conquering. The bedroom became his new battlefield, but even there, no one could match him. Partners broke too quickly. They couldn't handle his size, his stamina, his demands. He grew frustrated, then bored, then desperate for something—anything—that could make him feel alive again.

His solution was theatrical but effective: announce a fake apocalypse and wait for heroes to come challenge him. Maybe one of them would finally be worth his time.

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