It is said that the hero who united the Tereus Empire died in the arms of the Empress.
Hanz Ludwig Von Eltz, commander of the imperial army during the reunification, and once the beloved of Charlotte Von Tereus. His death remains the root of the Empress's cold and merciless reign.
They were a beautiful couple. Their youth was built on a bond so strong that not even the mightiest Ma'ta could sever it. But then, duty called. The former king ordered Eltz to bring glory to the empire by reclaiming the territories that once belonged to Tereus. Only through victory would he be allowed to marry Charlotte.
And so, for six long years, Hanz waged war in the name of the crown. When he returned, he found his lover seated upon the imperial throne, flanked by a husband and a child.
That night, under the light of the fourth moon in the inner garden, they met one final time. There, he died in her arms, succumbing to the wounds he had carried home.
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Elizabeth woke with a jolt as the wagon bounced along the uneven road. The dream she had was vague—nostalgic even—as if she'd lived the Empress's life herself.
She had heard whispers of her mother's lost love, a tragic romance that was deemed necessary. The Empress had loved the knight dearly, but fate could not allow them to remain together.
Lately, Elizabeth only saw her mother in the audience hall or in the garden where the knight had drawn his last breath. There, the Empress often sat in silence—humming a sorrowful tune or asleep while the servants tended the flowers.
Once, Elizabeth stood beside her. The Empress had muttered words she couldn't understand, yet their meaning somehow felt familiar. There was grief in her eyes as she looked up—grief Elizabeth could feel, even without explanation.
The same woman who had killed her father.
It was a cruel act, but one her mother claimed was born out of necessity. The Empress suspected a coup—led by Elizabeth's father, the prince consort. She believed he was consumed by ambition, and left her no choice.
Yes, she had personally ended her husband's life.
Elizabeth should have hated her. Her father was the one who had taught her to fight, to understand the world beyond politics. And yet… she couldn't bring herself to resent her mother.
Because the Empress had never truly healed after losing her knight. Perhaps that was why her father acted as he did—perhaps others mistook her sorrow for weakness.
Ironically, Elizabeth knew no ruler more capable than her mother.
The wagon bounced again, lifting her slightly off the seat before dropping her back down with a thud. Beside her sat her maid—her assigned personal servant, as was tradition for all imperial family members. These attendants were highly trained, some in secret arts, chosen to ensure the comfort and safety of their charges.
Her name was Arabella. She had served Elizabeth since the age of nine, once a playmate, later a distant aide after Elizabeth came of age. Yet Elizabeth insisted on keeping her close—so close she had formally requested it from her mother. And with the Empress's word, even the empire could shift course.
Today, they traveled to the Kingdom of Brauks. The Empress had ordered Elizabeth to accompany the diplomatic delegation as a gesture of goodwill. Officially, it was meant to ease tensions—many neighboring nations remained wary of Tereus after it reclaimed its ancestral lands.
But Elizabeth knew her mother too well to believe such a gesture was sincere.
She suspected the true goal was the Setyx Region—a land so inhospitable it had earned the title of Hell. Legend spoke of the Great Six Beasts who once ravaged the world, now slumbering beneath Setyx's towering mountains. Each beast's lingering essence warped the region's environment, making it nearly unlivable.
Until now.
Scouts reported that four of the six micro-regions had stabilized. The extreme weather had calmed, the terrain grown passable. That was when the Empress began to move.
Setyx remained unclaimed, though the Kingdom of Brauks had overseen it for centuries. Brauks was a realm focused more on magic than technology, and while their affinity for magic was deep, their methods were inefficient—more spiritual than practical.
To them, magic was sacred—its subjective experience more important than results. The Empress, pragmatic as ever, saw this as an opportunity: if Brauks relinquished oversight, Tereus could assume control and claim Setyx.
But fate rarely bows to plans.
Without warning, the royal wagon shook violently—struck by a magic missile. A deadly, shield-penetrating spell.
And yet, the shield held. A good sign. The protective enchantments placed by imperial sages had done their job against the surprise attack.
Still, it was bold—someone had dared to target a member of the imperial family.
Elizabeth quickly composed herself and pulled back the curtain to look outside.
The knights had already formed up around the wagon, their bodies and horses creating a moving wall of steel and flesh.
"Defensive formation! Mobile pursuit!" shouted the knight-captain.
At once, the entire unit surged into motion. The wagon accelerated, surrounded by galloping horses. Swords were drawn—each blade etched with glowing azure runes, their magic imbued with freezing power capable of stopping even the most resilient foes.
But it wasn't enough.
A second, far stronger magic missile slammed into the wagon. The protective shield rippled, nearly shattering from the impact. The sheer force overturned the entire carriage, sending the horses sprawling onto the roadside.
Elizabeth screamed as she was thrown about inside. But Arabella, ever-trained, held firm—gripping the doorframe with one hand and catching Elizabeth with the other before she could be injured.
Dust and debris surged into the overturned wagon, soiling Elizabeth's elegant green dress. But appearances were the least of her concerns now.
Outside, the knights faced their attackers.
Figures in dark green robes emerged from the treeline, cloaked in even deeper hues—clearly meant to blend with the forest surroundings. Their camouflage had served well for the ambush, but now, exposed, it lost its advantage.
Mercenaries.
Elizabeth recognized their tactics: efficient, ruthless, and void of loyalty beyond coin.
The knights sprang into action, encircling the overturned wagon in what they called the Golden Sphere—an elite defensive formation used to protect high-value targets. From a shattered window, Elizabeth peered out as the clash began.
The captain was the first to be struck. A blast of magic hit him squarely in the chest, sending him stumbling. But his enchanted armor absorbed the blow—its maroon and gold plating flaring brightly with runes that shimmered in defiance.
The armor itself was forged for intimidation as much as protection. It radiated fire magic drawn from Faeriu, one of the Great Beasts. A single strike from the captain's sword could match the destructive force of that primordial creature.