Fifteen years ago. The Great Solaria Empire — Imperial Palace Gardens.
Sunlight filtered through the towering white birches, dappling the lush grass in gold. A gentle breeze drifted through the gardens, causing the blossoms in the nearby flowerbeds to sway in a soft, rhythmic dance.
An eight-year-old Rhine, drenched in sweat, was sprawled on the grass, struggling through a set of push-ups.
"Twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty—!"
His strength finally gave out, and he collapsed onto the turf with a heavy thud, gasping for air. "Teach... Teacher... that's thirty..."
A short distance away, beneath the cooling canopy of a tree, Gerald was leaning lazily against the trunk. His hat was pulled down over his face, looking for all the world like he was in the middle of a deep afternoon nap.
At the sound of the boy's voice, he slowly tilted the brim of his hat up just enough to peek out and let out a long, leisurely yawn.
"Hmm? Did you say something?" He rubbed his eyes, looking hopelessly drowsy. "Ah... sorry. I think I fell asleep around the fifth count."
He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Too slow. Do another set."
Rhine's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he scrambled up from the grass. "Teacher!! That was already my second set of thirty!"
Gerald looked down, ostentatiously counting on his fingers as if performing a complex calculation. Then, he tilted his head and offered a cheeky grin.
"Second set?" He hummed thoughtfully. "Then don't you still have twenty-eight to go?"
Rhine stomped his foot in a fit of rage. "Two sets of thirty makes sixty!!"
Gerald burst into a hearty laugh. "Not bad, kid. Your math is improving." He pointed toward Rhine's feet. "Keep those legs moving. Stomping is part of the training, too."
Rhine's face flushed a deep, frustrated crimson. "All we ever do is this boring basic training! When are you actually going to teach me a finishing move!?"
Gerald finally stood up and strolled over, reaching out to ruffle the boy's messy hair. "What are you talking about? I am teaching you one right now."
He put on a deadpan, serious expression. "It's called the—'Stomping Finisher.'" He made a dramatic gesture with his foot. "If you can manage to stomp on an enemy's stomach like that a few dozen times, there's no way they're walking away from it."
Rhine looked ready to explode.
Just then, a voice—warm, yet layered with an undeniable authority—drifted from the far side of the gardens.
"Now, now... Rhine."
"Is that any way to speak to your teacher?"
The Solar Emperor emerged from a winding garden path, dressed in simple, casual attire. His expression was composed and gentle as he approached. Gerald immediately shed his lazy posture, snapping to attention with a respectful bow.
"Your Majesty."
Rhine, however, didn't bother with formalities. He sprinted over and clung to his father's arm, his face a mask of indignation as he pointed a finger at Gerald.
"Father! You have to listen to me! Gerald is bullying me again! He refuses to teach me anything actually useful!"
The Emperor chuckled softly, reaching down to stroke the boy's hair. "Rhine, you must show proper respect to your mentor. Gerald became the Empire's strongest warrior at the age of eighteen. Whatever he teaches you, there is a reason behind it."
Rhine puffed out his cheeks, muttering under his breath, "But..." He shot a glare back at Gerald. "Every day it's just basic training, over and over, while he just stands there daydreaming!"
The Emperor shook his head gently. "No matter what path you choose in life, the foundation is everything." He shifted his gaze toward Gerald, who was standing nearby. "Besides, Gerald is constantly observing your physical limits. He uses those excuses to keep you training until you are right on the edge of exhaustion."
He added in a soothing tone, "The process may be grueling, but he is teaching you with the utmost sincerity."
Rhine blinked, turning to look at his teacher. He caught Gerald standing there with a smug, thievish grin on his face. Rhine immediately stuck his tongue out at him.
Turning back to the Emperor, Rhine tugged at his father's sleeve, his voice dropping to a hopeful whisper. "But... the lessons have been so long lately. Father, why don't you stay and play with me for a while? I'm bored to death with these classes. I don't want to study anymore."
The Solar Emperor let out a soft, weary sigh.
"I'm afraid not."
His tone remained gentle, yet it carried an immovable weight of resolve. "Rhine, you are the only Prince of this Empire. You must master the knowledge required of your station."
He spoke slowly, letting each word sink in. "The Empire has many ministers to manage its affairs, but if you become Emperor one day and remain ignorant of how the world works—if a minister with ill intent decides to deceive or manipulate you—the catastrophe brought upon our people would be unimaginable."
Rhine puffed out his cheeks and looked away, muttering under his breath. "The country this... the Prince that... it's always the same."
The Emperor patted his shoulder lightly. "I'm sorry, Rhine." A flicker of deep exhaustion crossed his eyes. "I haven't been able to spend much time with you lately. The legions of Lunaris are drawing closer every day, and there is much that demands my attention."
He slowly knelt until he was at eye level with his son. "Tell you what," he said with a faint, hopeful smile. "Once you've mastered these lessons, you can help me handle the affairs of state. That way, won't we naturally have more time to spend together?"
Rhine knit his brows, considering the offer. "Hmm..." After a long moment of internal struggle, he gave a reluctant nod. "Fine... I guess."
Just then, Gerald clapped his hands together, a playful grin returning to his face. "Alright, Rhine! To make that 'Stomping Finisher' of yours truly unstoppable—" He pointed toward the outer perimeter of the gardens. "Starting now, thirty laps around the courtyard. Move!"
Rhine's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "Again!? I won't do it!!"
The Emperor could only offer a wry, helpless smile as he shook his head. "Now, Rhine. Do as Master Gerald says."
Rhine let out an aggrieved huff. Wiping a stray tear from his eye and sniffing back his frustration, he began to trot around the courtyard with an air of tragic heroism.
"Ugh... thirty laps is way too many..." His voice grew faint as he disappeared into the distance.
The Solar Emperor and Gerald remained standing under the cool shade of the birch tree, silently watching the small, determined figure running through the golden sunlight.
Gerald spoke suddenly, his voice low and steady.
"Your Majesty."
He gazed toward the distant horizon beyond the garden walls, his expression hardening. "I heard that Lunaris captured another border city yesterday." He tightened his fist, his knuckles turning white. "Let me go to the front lines. I want to see for myself—just how powerful these 'magical creatures' truly are."
The Solar Emperor remained silent for a long moment. Then, he slowly shook his head.
"Gerald..." His voice was deep, carrying a heavy calm. "War is never won by the strength of a single man."
He looked toward the far end of the courtyard, where Rhine was still dutifully running his laps. "No matter how powerful you are, how many thousands of magical beasts can you cut down before you tire? Helan is already leading the main host at the front. But here, at the capital... our defenses are hollow. I need you here."
Gerald knit his brows. "But I—"
The Emperor raised a hand, gently cutting him off. His gaze became exceptionally somber.
"If the day comes..." he whispered, the words hanging heavy in the air. "If the Empire collapses. If the Capital falls."
The air seemed to freeze in that heartbeat. The Emperor continued, "I need you to take Rhine and flee. Ensure the last of the Solarel bloodline survives. Wait for the future... wait for the chance to rise again."
Gerald's expression turned deathly serious. "Is the situation at the front... truly that dire?"
The Emperor let out a long, weary sigh. "The magical creatures... they are powerful, savage, and their numbers are staggering. Even if you are a divine blade capable of slaying them, you cannot change the tide of this war alone." His eyes grew distant. "What we truly need is a way for ordinary soldiers to stand against them."
A heavy silence followed. Finally, the Emperor gave a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Never mind. We can discuss these things later." He turned to leave. "I have much to attend to. Rhine... I leave him in your hands."
With that, he walked slowly out of the gardens. The setting sun stretched his shadow across the grass—longer and longer, until it vanished into the dusk.
Gerald watched the Emperor's retreating figure in silence for a long time. Finally, he let out a soft, weary sigh.
"Haaa..."
He turned back toward the courtyard and beckoned with his hand. "Rhine."
Rhine came jogging over, panting for breath. Sweat poured down his cheeks, yet he didn't say a word; he simply stood there with a sullen pout, glaring at Gerald.
Gerald couldn't help but chuckle. "What's that look for? Weren't you the one constantly pestering me to learn a finishing move?"
Rhine snapped his head up. His eyes instantly lit up like stars. "You're actually going to teach me!?"
Gerald let a wicked, playful smirk cross his face. "First, I'll let you in on a secret. Those things people call 'finishing moves' or 'ultimate techniques'—most of them are just a load of rubbish meant to fool the gullible."
Rhine froze, looking utterly confused. "Eh?"
Gerald held up a single finger. "Listen well. Whether you are using your bare hands, a sword, a blade, a spear, or a bow... their true lethality—when you boil it all down—comes from only one place."
Rhine blinked. "One place?"
Gerald nodded. "The exact moment and point where the weapon connects with the enemy." He tapped the air lightly with his fingertip. "That single point of contact."
"To hit that point perfectly, you don't need fancy forms or flashy sequences," he continued. "What you need are the fundamentals. The basics."
"The slash."
"The thrust."
"The sweep."
"The grapple."
"The strike."
"The dodge."
Gerald looked Rhine dead in the eye, his tone suddenly turning sharp and serious. "Refine these basics until they reach their absolute limit—until they are as natural as breathing. Then, every single movement you make becomes a finishing move."
He smiled softly. "The so-called 'ultimates' are nothing more than gaudy packaging. What truly matters is always the simplest thing."
Rhine puffed out his cheeks, muttering under his breath, "But... they still sound so cool."
Gerald laughed. "Cool? Sure, they're cool. But no matter how flashy or beautiful a move looks—if it doesn't land on the enemy, it's utterly worthless." He raised a fist and gave the air a short, sharp jab. "If you can knock someone down with a single punch... why on earth would you circle them three times and perform a dance before swinging?"
Rhine knit his brows, eyeing his teacher with deep suspicion. "When you put it that way..."
He squinted at Gerald. "It just sounds like you don't actually have any cool moves to teach me, doesn't it?"
Gerald blinked, caught off guard. "You little—"
Suddenly—
A sharp, frantic blast of a horn tore through the sky!
Wooooo—!!!
The sound was low, mournful, and piercing, echoing relentlessly over the rooftops of the Imperial Capital. Rhine flinched, his eyes wide with sudden fear. "Wh-what is that sound?!"
Gerald's expression shifted instantly. His face went pale, then hardened into a mask of grim focus. "The Capital alarm." His voice was low and taut with tension. "Enemy attack."
He didn't waste another word. He seized Rhine's arm in a vice-like grip. "Move!"
The two of them sprinted toward the heart of the palace, their figures blurring into the lengthening shadows.
Inside the Throne Room.
Attendants were scurrying about, frantically helping the Solar Emperor don his battle armor. It was a suit of golden imperial plate that shimmered with a solemn, majestic light amidst the flickering torches and candlelight—a final, shining symbol of the Empire's glory.
"Gerald."
The Emperor spoke without turning around. "You've arrived just in time." His voice remained calm, yet it was laced with an underlying sense of finality.
Gerald stepped forward, his voice a low growl. "Your Majesty—is it them? The magical legions of Lunaris?"
The Solar Emperor slowly turned to face them. To their shock, a faint, weary smile rested on his lips. "It is. And they've arrived a full month earlier than our scouts predicted."
He let out a soft, resigned sigh. "It seems... the destiny of the Great Solaria Empire ends here."
Rhine stood by the side, his small face drained of all color. His voice trembled as he spoke. "Father... are we... are we going to lose?"
The Emperor looked at him. His gaze suddenly softened, filled with a profound tenderness. He reached out and gently cupped Rhine's cheek.
"I will do everything in my power to seize victory," he whispered. "However—"
He offered a small, encouraging smile. "Even if I lose this time... I know that one day, in the future, you will be the one to win it all back."
Gerald surged forward, his voice tight with desperation.
"Your Majesty!"
"Please, come with us! I know I can break through the lines and get you to safety!"
The Solar Emperor slowly shook his head, his gaze steady and tranquil. "I am the Emperor of this nation. How could I possibly abandon my soldiers while they are still bleeding on the field? How could I betray the trust my people have placed in me?"
He lifted his head, his imperial majesty radiating from him without restraint.
"I... must stay. Even if I am to fall here, I shall do so with no regrets."
A heavy silence fell over the hall, broken only by the mournful wail of the alarm horns echoing from the distant city walls.
Rhine let out a choked, tearful sob. "Fa... Father... let's run away together... please... I beg you..."
The Emperor gazed at Rhine in silence, as if trying to etch every detail of his son's face into his soul forever. "Gerald," he commanded, his voice deep and resonant. "Take the Empress and Rhine. Use the secret passage and leave immediately."
The Empress stepped forward, gently taking her husband's hand. "I am not leaving. As much as it pains me to leave Rhine, I will not let you face death alone."
The Emperor let out a booming laugh. "How could I be alone? My soldiers will stand with me until the end. And the enemy—they shall accompany us on our final journey!"
The Empress offered a soft, bittersweet smile. "Then one more companion shouldn't hurt, should it?"
The Emperor gazed at her, his eyes flashing with a sudden, overwhelming wave of emotion.
At that moment, a soldier burst into the hall. "Your Majesty! The enemy has breached the gates! The Royal Guard is our final line of defense!"
The Emperor drew his sword, his golden armor shimmering brilliantly in the torchlight. "Splendid! Let me see for myself what these 'Magical Legions' that have terrorized the world for a decade truly look like! Gerald, protect the Prince! Go now!"
"No!! Father!! Mother!!"
Rhine's screams were heart-wrenching, tearing through the air. Gerald fought back his own tears, sweeping the boy up and holding him tight. "Your Majesty... I obey!"
Without looking back, he turned and sprinted toward the secret passage, leaving the screams of a son and the duty of a King behind him.
The Solar Emperor slowly sat back upon his throne, his golden armor gleaming with a defiant light, the Empress standing steadfast by his side, their hands entwined. Before the throne, the remaining soldiers formed a final, unbreakable phalanx, their faces set toward the great doors—vowing to never retreat.
Then, with a thunderous CRACK, the massive doors shattered into splinters.
From beyond the ruins of the gateway, a colossal shadow began to crawl into the throne room.
The first things to emerge through the gloom were eight points of crimson light, glowing like dying embers. As the dust and smoke gradually settled, the true nightmare was revealed—a spider, massive and as black as the midnight sky. Its eight long, spindly legs tapped rhythmically against the stone floor with a heavy, muffled thud, sounding like the footsteps of Death itself marching through the hallowed hall.
And upon its broad, chitinous back sat a figure in vivid red.
She appeared no older than her early twenties, with hair as dark as the night that drifted like silk with every movement of the spider. She wore a form-fitting crimson robe that looked as if it had been woven from fresh blood, a striking contrast to her skin and a perfect match for her ruby-red eyes.
She reclined lazily on the spider's back, propping her chin on one hand, her posture casual and effortless.
The sight was hauntingly beautiful—and suffocatingly dangerous.
CLANG!
The Solar Emperor struck the floor heavily with the scabbard of his sword, the sharp sound echoing through the vast chamber. His gaze was as sharp as a blade, radiating an aura of absolute command.
"Who goes there—identify yourself!"
The woman seemed entirely unaffected by his overwhelming pressure. She shifted her weight, pushing herself up slightly, and let out a soft, melodic laugh. Her voice was enchanting and seductive, yet it carried a strange, almost innocent lightness.
"So, you are the Emperor of the Great Solaria Empire?"
The Emperor rose slowly from his throne. Wrapped in his golden plate and bathed in the flickering torchlight, his silhouette appeared impossibly tall and imposing.
"I am Amat Solarel," he declared, his voice echoing with the weight of history. "The seventeenth Emperor of the Great Solaria Empire."
He fixed his gaze directly on the woman. "Now, tell me—who are you?"
The woman stood up slowly and took a single step forward. She did not fall; instead, the spider's four front legs rose in a synchronized crisscross, forming a living staircase to meet her feet. She descended from the beast's back with a predatory grace, her red robes swaying like a flickering flame.
She came to a halt before the throne, delicately pinching her skirts as she offered an elegant, mocking bow.
"I am... Selphira Vesperis."
The Solar Emperor's brow twitched slightly.
"The Queen of Lunaris herself."
"I did not expect you to set foot in my throne room personally."
Selphira offered a soft, airy laugh. "I really had no choice."
"Our High General claimed it would take another month or two to completely bring the Great Solaria Empire to its knees." She tilted her head, a bone-chilling smile spreading across her lips. "But... I simply didn't want to wait that long."
She lifted a hand, delicately masking her mouth as she giggled. "So—I decided to come and take it myself."
The Emperor let out a cold, defiant snort.
SHING—
His longsword left its scabbard. In an instant, roaring white-hot flames surged along the blade, transforming it into a pillar of living fire. The entire throne room was instantly bathed in a fierce, crimson radiance.
"Hmph! Do you truly believe that with nothing but a single arachnid beast, you can take my head?"
Selphira gently stroked the massive spider's head, her smile as bright as a blooming flower. "Oh, you've misunderstood me... This little one was just here to give me a ride. He's actually... not very good at fighting."
The Emperor's gaze darkened. "Are you implying that you believe you alone—a woman with no weapon in hand—can defeat me?"
BOOM—
Blazing fire erupted from the Emperor's entire body, the flames roaring toward the vaulted ceiling. In that heartbeat, he looked like the very Sun itself had descended into the mortal realm.
Selphira lightly tapped her lower lip. She watched the flames consuming the air around the Emperor, a look of childlike wonder surfacing in her eyes.
"Hmm... these flames..."
"Is this the legendary power left behind by the Sun God?" Her lips curled upward into a slow, predatory grin. The crimson in her eyes began to glow with a feverish light. "Ah... how fascinating. I want it. I want it so much..."
The Emperor's gaze turned ice-cold. He leveled his burning sword at her.
"Soldiers—TAKE HER!"
His roar was like a thunderclap shaking the foundations of the hall. Before the throne, the Royal Guard stepped forward as one, their armor clanking in a unified, deadly rhythm as they drew their blades.
No one dared to underestimate the woman with the flowery smile.
Not because she was the Queen of Lunaris, and not even because that spine-chilling, colossal arachnid crouched at her feet like a common pet. It was the sheer, suffocating aura she radiated.
As the soldiers charged, Selphira didn't even flinch. She simply, slowly, raised a single finger.
Her voice was faint, as if she were mentioning a trivial, everyday matter.
"—Shadow-Eater."
In the next heartbeat, a streak of pitch-black light tore across the hall.
It wasn't fire. It wasn't lightning. It was a fragment of the abyss itself, a void that hungered for the light.
As the black light swept through the chamber, all sound vanished.
Silence. A heavy, deathly silence.
And then—the Royal Guard in the front rank.
Their upper bodies simply... disappeared.
It was as if some invisible, monstrous entity had swallowed them whole in a single bite. For a split second, they remained standing, and then the blood erupted—a geyser of crimson that drenched the stone floor, spreading rapidly into a macabre, shimmering carpet of red.
The heavy thud of severed torsos hitting the ground was the only sound left in the throne room.
The Solar Emperor's pupils constricted in a sudden, violent shock.
Selphira tilted her chin up slightly. She watched him, a playful, mocking glint dancing in her ruby eyes.
"Oh, by the way."
She tilted her head, her raven hair sliding silkily over her shoulder. Her voice remained as gentle as a casual conversation.
"I believe I forgot to mention one small thing."
Her crimson eyes flashed brilliantly in the fading firelight.
"My maiden name..."
"It is Vesperis."