The grand throne room of the Eastern Empire was vast and imposing. The golden walls shimmered under the ever-present glow of enchanted crystals embedded high in the ceiling. On a raised dais at the center sat Emperor Rudra, garbed in regal crimson and silver, his sharp eyes reflecting both wisdom and weariness. Beside him stood Velgrynd, his ever-loyal guardian and ypunger sister of the Ice Dragon, Velzard. Her arms were crossed, her expression unreadable—neither relaxed nor alert, just contemplative.
Around them stood the highest-ranking officers of the Empire—Damrada, the imperial shadow with connections through the underworld; General Kondou, clad in his pristine white officer's garb, calm but deadly; and a handful of elite generals, including strategists and intelligence officers, all assembled for an emergency meeting that had stirred the entire court into silence.
The room was heavy with tension.
A tall general stepped forward, bowing. "Your Majesty, we've received updated intelligence regarding the expansion of Nyvaris—the newly formed monster kingdom in the Jura Forest. Its borders now stretch to nearly match the entire region once unclaimed and disorganized."
Another officer added grimly, "Our attempts to infiltrate it have all failed. Not a single spy has returned. According to the last report before silence, the moment they crossed the outer field, a pulse of magicules incinerated them or forcibly teleported them back—stripped of memory, sometimes even sanity."
The court murmured.
Velgrynd narrowed her eyes slightly. "A barrier that targets intent… not just strength. That's rare." Her gaze shifted to Rudra. "And Velzard is within it, you said?"
Damrada nodded. "Confirmed. The Ice Dragon Velzard has taken residence within Nyvaris. She is often seen flying across its territories and has been spotted alongside Varvatos, its ruler."
At that name, the room darkened—not from any magic, but from the shift in atmosphere.
"Varvatos…" Kondou muttered. "There is no record of him in any of our historical archives. No mention of his origin, no traceable appearance until he emerged in the Jura Forest. And yet, he defeated Guy Crimson, subdued Milim Nava, and crushed the entire Demon Lord Council's resistance during Walpurgis… with a flick of his fingers."
A cold sweat ran down one of the younger general's temples.
"He held them all in place like insects beneath divine weight," Kondou added, his voice calm but grim. "If he wished it, he could've laid waste to the entire Cardinal World by now."
Rudra remained silent for a long moment, resting his chin on his gloved hand. His mind wandered back to the words of Veldanava, his teacher—the godlike creator of the Cardinal World.
"There will always come a time when something beyond this world descends. When it does, you must not greet it with arrogance... but with understanding."
Was this the time Veldanava spoke of?
Rudra exhaled softly through his nose, his gaze flicking to Velgrynd. "Your sister… Velzard. What do you think of her siding with him?"
Velgrynd's gaze softened—just barely. "Velzard never gives loyalty lightly. If she's aligned herself with this Varvatos, then either he is even older than we suspect… or his strength is beyond any of us. Maybe both. She respects power—but only bows to a certain kind of presence."
Damrada added, "We've received confirmation from Dwargon as well. King Gazel has entered into full alliance with Nyvaris. They're exchanging technology, magicule engineering, weapons, and cultural trade. The monster kingdom is not just growing—it's stabilizing into a powerhouse."
Rudra stood.
His voice was quiet, but every soul in the room felt its weight.
"Then it's time I sought counsel."
The generals looked up, confused.
"With whom, Your Majesty?" Kondou asked.
Rudra turned, eyes sharp and resolute. "Guy Crimson. If there's one being in this world who might have some semblance of insight into Varvatos, it's him."
Velgrynd tilted her head, intrigued. "You think he'll be honest?"
Rudra smirked faintly. "Guy values power, but he fears imbalance. And unlike the others, he's not blinded by pride. He's a mediator for a reason. If he thinks this world is under threat, he won't lie."
Kondou bowed. "Shall I prepare an envoy?"
Rudra shook his head. "No. This is a conversation that must be held between equals. I will go alone… with Velgrynd."
The court exploded in worried protests, but Rudra raised a hand and silence fell instantly.
"This is not a declaration of conflict. It's a move to ensure survival. If this world is to remain intact, we must know who Varvatos truly is… and what he wants."
Velgrynd stepped forward, placing a hand on her hip. "Then let's waste no more time."
As the golden gates of the throne room opened to the imperial teleportation chamber, the mood in the Eastern Empire shifted from dominance… to quiet caution.
Far to the west, in a world blanketed by magicules and guarded by divine force, Nyvaris stood unconcerned—an empire not born from ambition, but from presence itself.
And the rest of the world was finally beginning to realize it.
----____----
The sky above the Ice Continent churned with storm clouds and divine tension. Two beings cut through the heavens like meteorites—one a golden brilliance, radiant and controlled, the other an inferno of blazing crimson, untamable and proud. Rudra Nam Ul Nasca, Emperor of the Eastern Empire, and Velgrynd, the Crimson Despair, had come not for battle—but for answers.
They arrived at the gates of Pandemonium, the fortress-palace carved into the icy mountains, a citadel built not just of stone and magic, but of legacy and absolute power. Waiting for them were Rain and Misery, Guy Crimson's ever-faithful aides. They bowed, elegance in motion.
"Emperor Rudra. Lady Velgrynd," Rain greeted with a measured nod. "Lord Guy has been expecting you."
Misery's eyes sparkled faintly. "Please, follow us. He's quite eager to… reconnect."
Rudra's face remained unreadable as he stepped inside, memories flickering like shadows in his mind—centuries of rivalry with the ancient Demon Lord.
They were not enemies. Nor were they friends in the conventional sense. They were cosmic adversaries—two titans locked in a game far older than most remembered. In the past, they had clashed across continents, fighting for the sheer thrill of dominance. Their battles almost always ended in stalemates, earth-shaking draws that left the world trembling.
But at some point, they'd grown tired of the same old dance.
So they devised a new game—a contest of influence, of conquest through others. It was then that Guy Crimson formed the Demon Lord Council, while Rudra established his Empire on the doctrine of strength. They became kings of unseen war boards, their soldiers pawns, their empires arenas.
Now, that delicate equilibrium was shifting.
They entered the throne room—a vast, glacial cathedral lit with floating crystals of cold fire. And there, lounging on his throne with one leg slung over the armrest, was Guy Crimson, his crimson gaze gleaming.
"Well, well…" he drawled, sitting up with an amused smirk. "If it isn't the golden tyrant himself. What brings you to my frozen doorstep? Looking to get your royal ass kicked again?"
Rudra's tone was serious, voice like thunder restrained.
"This isn't a social call, Guy. Something is stirring. And we need to talk."
Guy's smirk faded into interest. "I figured. Come then—let's speak where the winds don't eavesdrop."
He led them to the enchanted balcony, a suspended terrace of black ice and glowing runes, shielded from the freezing wind by arcane barriers. Rain and Misery joined shortly after, placing down goblets of enchanted mead and plates of warm delicacies.
Guy raised a brow as they took their seats. "Now… tell me, Emperor. What clouds your golden mind?"
Rudra took a slow sip, then said the name that had haunted his council chambers for weeks:
"Varvatos."
The air stilled. Even the flames from the torches seemed to freeze.
Velgrynd added, her tone sharper than obsidian, "Nyvaris has become a fortress of enigma. Its borders are sealed with magic that rejects even divine surveillance. None of our agents have returned. Not even a whisper from the winds. And now… Velzard lives there."
Guy's fingers tapped his goblet.
"She chose to stay. That much is true."
Rudra leaned forward, voice low. "You know what that means. She never chooses lightly."
Guy didn't argue.
Rudra continued, "You know I've maintained the Tenma Protocol for millennia. Every five centuries, when a nation rises unnaturally fast, when ambition spirals beyond containment—I send the Angels. Not to conquer. To balance."
Velgrynd nodded. "We cull excess. We preserve the flow of power across the world. If left unchecked, civilizations collapse under their own growth. Wars break out. Gods wake from their sleep."
Guy raised a hand, his tone unreadable. "And have you sent your Tenma to Nyvaris?"
Rudra's voice was hard. "No. Not yet."
A pause.
"I… hesitated."
Guy's lips curved slightly. "Now that's unlike you."
Rudra's golden eyes locked onto his. "Because something about Varvatos doesn't feel like a mistake. It feels like a counterweight. A balancing force we weren't expecting."
Velgrynd frowned. "Still… if his power becomes too great, if he threatens to tilt the world's axis, we might have no choice."
That was when Guy stood, the faintest trace of fire behind his crimson irises.
"I'll tell you this once, Rudra—don't make him your enemy."
Rudra's expression darkened. "You sound afraid."
"I'm not afraid," Guy said. "I'm aware."
He looked out across the icy horizon, his voice low.
"Varvatos doesn't build empires for glory. He builds them to last. To shelter. And if Velzard, of all beings, has sided with him… that means he's seen something. Something bigger than your angels. Bigger than my council."
Rudra asked, quietly, "Then what is he preparing for?"
Guy looked over his shoulder. "I don't know. But I do know this—if you send your angels to purge Nyvaris, you won't get a second chance to regret it."
Velgrynd's flames rippled, her instincts warring with her loyalty.
Rudra closed his eyes, weighing his next move.
"Then I won't send the angels," he said slowly. "Not yet."
Guy smirked. "That's the emperor I know. Always one move ahead."
"But I need answers," Rudra said firmly. "Not speculation. I'll visit him myself. If he's building something bigger than us—I want to know what."
Guy raised his glass.
"Then may fate favor your tongue."