Inside the kingdom of Deryal, in one of its ancient palaces, a group of knights stood in silence. In fact, it wasn't just the knights—everyone was standing, except for one person: Gerard. With his bulging muscles and striking red hair, he sat on his throne in a majestic display that reflected his status—the status of the king of Deryal, the god of pride.
Amidst this order, a man dressed in noble attire stepped forward. He was a demi-human with somewhat timid eyes. He walked along the extended red carpet until he reached a spot where he could clearly see Gerard seated proudly on his throne. Instead of standing, he dropped to his knees and said: "Your Majesty, we need to completely reconsider the attack. We've lost our camp—the only region where we had broken through Yarum's borders. If we're to attack again, we'll have to breach the borders once more, and that will be harder now with those heroes present."
"That's why we formed an alliance with Talvan. Their military leaders and some strategists have already arrived. Discuss matters with them and build a plan to breach Yarum's borders together," Gerard replied.
"It will be done, Your Majesty," the demi-human murmured before withdrawing from the throne room.
It seemed Talvan's support was now present in Deryal, and the planning phase was beginning. This put all three kingdoms on the brink of another clash. But this time, unlike previous occasions, it wouldn't just be a response from Deryal—it would be a war effort from two kingdoms. The flames of war were growing stronger and stronger. With every ember that died out, a new one flared up even fiercer.
But far from the noise of war and political tension, in the same kingdom, within one of the neighborhoods of Deryal's capital—Ryolha, the Blue Town—everything was peaceful. The palaces harmonized with one another in shades of blue, with charming shrubs spread throughout the gardens. Near the entrance of one palace stood a man radiating joy.
He was bald, dressed in fine clothes, and though his face showed happiness, he held back his smile. This was Simon. He stood in front of a palace door, as if waiting for something. Eventually, a plump woman exited the palace. Her body was full in most places, her red hair curly, and she wore a noblewoman's dress. She approached Simon and said: "What do you want?"
"It's obvious what I want. I'm not here to see your face. Bring me my daughter," Simon replied.
"Damn it… I hope they fire you from that job soon, so you lose that arrogance of yours," she muttered as she turned back inside the palace.
This was Simon at the home of his ex-wife to take his daughter for a brief visit. After a bit of waiting, the woman finally brought the girl out. She was small, wearing an elegant dress, and had red hair like her mother. She walked her outside and handed her over to Simon. Before he left, she said: "She doesn't drink milk anymore. It's better to give her orange juice. And don't let her stay up late. I know how careless you are."
"I know how to take care of my daughter," Simon said as he climbed into his luxurious carriage.
As the carriage rolled along, the little girl's joy became more apparent. She seemed very comfortable with her father, and Simon too looked overjoyed. After a while, he opened a bag placed in the carriage and pulled out a turtle toy. When the girl saw it, she lit up with a wide smile and hugged the toy tightly.
"Thank you, Papa!"
"You have to give it a name, Mera."
"Hmm… Tompa!"
"Tompa? That's awesome!" Simon replied excitedly, smiling at his daughter.
The carriage continued until it reached another palace. It was a large one, but unlike the others in that neighborhood, it wasn't blue. The carriage stopped, and Simon and his daughter Mera got out. This was clearly Simon's splendid palace, and it was obvious that Mera loved it.
"I have a surprise for you, Mera!"
"Really? What is it, Papa??"
"Well, I said it's a surprise! Come on, let me show you."
Mera began walking faster, even hopping like a bunny. As Simon watched her, his smile slowly faded, as if sadness had begun to take its place. When Mera entered the palace, some servants welcomed her, removed her shoes, and offered her some sweets.
Simon continued on to another part of the palace, with Mera excitedly following behind him. They reached a closed door with a sign that read: "Mera's Magical Room." When he opened it, everything inside was pink. The windows were covered with curtains decorated with stars, pointed witch hats were everywhere, along with wands and staves. The shelves were filled with books—everything related to magic was there.
"I heard you wanted to become a witch."
"Pa… pa…" Mera muttered, her mouth wide open.
"What is it?"
"This is the best thing I've ever seen in my life!"
She then ran all around the room in pure joy, trying on every hat, waving the wands, and pretending to cast spells. She did everything a child would do to show how happy they were. But with every adorable laugh, Simon's smile grew fainter.
"Hey, Mera. Tell me, what do you think about the kingdom's law—that the mother gets custody of the children?"
"That law is stupid. I think it's better if the child chooses," Mera replied, pointing her wand at a witch doll sitting nearby.
"Well, it's your eighth birthday. Enjoy it."
"Papa, I've decided! I'm going to become a witch so I can grow your hair back!"
"Am I ugly without hair?"
"No, Papa! But Papa Two has hair, and I don't want only one of my papas to be bald."
"Papa Two? You mean that merchant your mom married?"
"Yes! He's nice to me."
"But you shouldn't call him Papa Two. You only have one papa in this world, Mera—and that's me."
"But he asks me to call him that."
A silence spread between them, and neither spoke. Simon hugged his daughter tightly, clearly consumed by sorrow. This was Simon's life after the divorce, and how he suffered under the kingdom's law—which allowed mothers to take full custody of the children, while fathers could only see them five days a month. Simon hated that law deeply. And this was without even losing his job—if a man was unemployed, he wasn't even allowed those five days.
"Mera, I love you."
◆ ◆ ◆
Inside another palace in Deryal, the place resembled a council room. Around a round table sat several distinguished individuals—some wore armor, others fancy clothes. Behind a few of them stood guards, emphasizing the importance of the attendees.
"So, the plan is clear, right?" said a knight in armor adorned with a red cloak. He had dark skin and black hair with a few white strands.
"I'll summarize one last time… ahem. Talvan's soldiers will attack an area far from the palace. That will serve as a distraction. Then, on the night following that assault, Deryal's soldiers will strike the palace," explained a demi-human with sharp wolf ears.
"Yes, and don't forget our top priority—bringing down the palace. That will give us control over the most important area in the far east of Yarum, Taking it down will deal a heavy blow."
After that, everyone left the table and headed to the balcony of the spacious room. The balcony overlooked a large square where soldiers from both Deryal and Talvan had gathered. In front of them stood a man with a lion's head, wearing luxurious clothes. His fierce features reflected his power and status.
"Soldiers, you've heard the plan. We suffered a heavy loss to Yarum. How can you accept such defeat without your hearts burning for victory? We were humiliated, disgraced—but instead of killing ourselves in shame, we'll wipe that shame off the nearest wall, pick up our weapons with more strength, and crush the enemy!!" roared the Lionian, his mane fluttering in the breeze.
This was Egoren, the commander in charge of preparing the troops for war. He was of the Lionian race, a race rarely seen in the continent of Sevios. His speech was truly inspiring. His anger and shouting didn't annoy—they fired people up. His calculated insults made soldiers see their own weakness and hate it. As he always said: "Wipe your shame off the nearest wall, then keep going."
"You must crush them. Don't return until you've avenged us! As for those heroes—grind down their pride and send them back to their world!!" Egoren shouted even louder.
"And finally... victory to Deryal and its allies!!!" yelled the Lionian with madness in his eyes.
"Victory to Deryal and its allies!!!" the soldiers shouted in unison.
"Impressive. Egoren never fails to stir the troops," remarked one of the observers on the palace balcony.
"Of course not. He's one of the strongest figures in the kingdom. Strong and fierce—a true warrior," another replied.
"I've never seen a Lionian before," said a man dressed in the attire of the Talvan kingdom.
"Yes, it's rare to see one in Sevios. I heard his parents migrated from Marsell to Yarum and then settled in Deryal. He might be the only Lionian in the kingdom. But what truly sets him apart isn't his race—it's his personality," said the dark-skinned man in the red-caped armor.
That was the preparation for the second clash, which was nearly complete. Now, battle was inevitable—two kingdoms against one. A war like this hadn't happened in centuries. But far from the soldiers of Deryal and Talvan and their war preparations, inside Princess Tiana's palace, things were just as serious.
"I think sending her is the best option," said Laos to Sabrina, who stood in front of him.
"But aren't you afraid of being reprimanded? She was punished by Tiana herself," Sabrina replied.
"I sent her to my palace. I'm me—one of the heroes. There's no way they'll make a fuss just because I freed an old friend."
"Hmph, looks like another clash is about to begin. We need a new plan. Bonnie, have the strategists arrived yet?" Vinnel shouted as he stepped out from one of the rooms on the first floor.
"Did the owl bring any new letters?" asked Sabrina, staring at the one-eyed knight and ignoring Laos who stood in front of her.
"No, the letter came from underground. What kind of question is that?!"
"Alright, it looks like the strategists haven't arrived yet. We'll have to wait. How long until the enemy reaches us?"
"I don't know, but spies say the warriors are fully prepared, so they'll definitely arrive by morning," Vinnel replied.
"Sir Vinnel, all soldiers are in position at the borders," a knight suddenly reported as he entered the palace.
"Good. Now we just need more troops..." Vinnel said as he walked outside.
"Sabrina, send a letter to the council… Let's see where this clash will take us… Ralce, I wish you were here to experience something like this."