In the shadowed halls beneath the palace of Kalyon,
the leaders of the Flame Alliance gathered.
Once cautious, now bold, the seven kingdoms stood united.
The air was thick with resolve.
The old king of Kalyon raised his hand and spoke,
his voice like steel on stone:
"Van has crossed every line.
He is no longer an emperor…
He is a tyrant who rules by sword and fire.
Today… we stop him."
---
From across the continent, the legions of the alliance began to gather.
Seven hundred thousand soldiers.
Armed. Trained. Ready for war.
Cavalry. War wagons. Infantry.
And battalions of mages wielding ancient magic.
The banners of the Flame Alliance soared into the sky,
as the war camps thundered with chants:
"For freedom… for victory!"
---
Step by step, the massive army marched toward imperial lands.
The earth trembled beneath their boots.
Even rivers seemed to thin beneath their weight.
At the front rode the King of Kalyon, cautious but firm,
with the rulers of the other six kingdoms behind him—
their eyes filled with both hope and dread.
---
Meanwhile, in the Golden Fortress, Van stood reading the reports.
A general bowed low and said:
"The Flame Alliance is advancing… seven hundred thousand strong."
Van looked up and smiled—cold, unshaken.
"They think they can burn the Empire…
Let them try.
We'll show them who the Black Knight truly is."