Many years had passed.
On the throne of Thyanos, a figure sat with firm posture and a cold gaze. The one who had been proclaimed Queen after the death of Edrian and Kyoka Babadar now ruled with an iron fist. Her eyes stared at the castle gates — expressionless, empty.
The doors burst open with a loud crash. A man stormed in, clutching a knife and shouting:
— You wretched monster! This is all your fault! My daughter was so young!
He ran toward the throne, but before he could take two steps, his body collapsed. His head rolled across the floor, stopping at the feet of the Empress.
Without changing her expression, she simply said:
— Clean this up. Now.
Twenty years after the tragedy, Ana Izius Babadar had become Empress of Thyanos. A kingdom founded by Edrian after winning the great war against the demons — he was hailed as the Hero-King. But that heroic legacy had long since vanished.
The kingdom had plunged into decay. The peasants worked themselves to exhaustion and still barely had enough to eat. The Empress, cold and ruthless, was feared by all. People whispered about her eyes:
— She... she has no soul. She looks like a demon.
When contradicted, she ordered executions. One glance was enough. A single gesture sealed someone's fate.
One night, while observing a distant village on a map, she muttered to herself:
— What if... I became a hero too?
She crossed out the words "Next Prison" on the map with a large X.
Days later, 46 goblins invaded the small village. Chaos erupted. Homes were destroyed. People were slaughtered.
Suddenly, a figure appeared — dark purple hair, gleaming golden armor. It was Ana Babadar.
— DO NOT FEAR! EVERYTHING IS FINE NOW! I, ANA BABADAR, HAVE COME TO SAVE YOU!
With a single leap, she crushed a goblin with her warhammer. Her troops arrived moments later.
— Advance!
The battle was fierce, but in the end, she raised her sword and declared:
— The battle is over! The goblins are dead!
The villagers cheered:
— Long live our heroine! Babadar!
A twisted, eerie smile formed on her face.
— Yes... That's right.
Ten years passed. The village had grown into an imperial city. Annual festivals were held to honor Babadar. People lived happily. However, inside the castle, the Empress screamed, shattered furniture, and tore out her own hair.
— AAAAAAAAAAH!
Another ten years passed. Now, high walls surrounded the city. There were no more celebrations. The streets were silent. People died of hunger in the alleys. The Empress had gone mad. Taxes rose. Cruel laws were imposed.
An old man, caught stealing a single potato, was imprisoned. On "Judgment Day," he was brought before a crowd, kneeling. Ana watched from her throne and asked:
— Why did you steal?
Crying, the man replied:
— My granddaughter... she hasn't eaten in 13 days...
Ana snapped her fingers. A guard dragged in the girl — thin, malnourished — and threw her to the ground.
— Is this the one?
The old man pleaded:
— NO! SHE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS! SPAR—
His head hit the ground seconds later.
The guard turned to the crowd and declared:
— He broke three laws: theft, failure to pay taxes, and the worst of all — he dared demand mercy from the Empress!
He bowed:
— Empress, what should we do with the child? Shall we execute her too?
Ana stared at the girl for a few seconds. Then, calmly, she answered:
— Since I can't bear children... she will be my daughter.
Gasps echoed through the audience. Ana stood and commanded:
— Bring her to me.
Years passed. The girl grew and was named Laura Babadar. She became a skilled swordswoman with a natural affinity for fire magic. At nineteen, she was appointed First Commander of the Imperial Army.
In time, another talent emerged: Oliver Gyoi, eighteen, tactical and swift, mastered a technique called "Space and Wind." He could vanish into thin air and defeat opponents within seconds. He was named Second Commander.
Soon after, Anistina Caustin — a brilliant strategist known as "Blind Knives" — was appointed as the Third Commander at age twenty.
The iron triumvirate of Empress Babadar was complete.
Five years passed.
On another "Judgment Day," the stage for execution was set. This time, the condemned was a thirty-two-year-old man accused of stealing clothing from a store.
Before the crowd and the Empress's gaze, he knelt, shaking violently.
— P-please... have mercy... I won't do it again... please...
Anistina — now known as the Executioner — stood above him, silent. The man wept, his tears falling like final prayers. The order was given. Without hesitation, she raised her sword and, with a clean strike, beheaded him.
The sharp sound echoed. His head rolled, eyes still glistening. Watching it, Anistina bit her lip with restrained anger.
After the execution, she wandered through the city streets. She walked in silence, observing misery — starving families lying on the ground, skeletal children begging for scraps. She said nothing. She only watched... and mourned.
Then a voice called from a nearby alley:
— So, you also enjoy walking around and witnessing the people's misery, Commander Anistina?
She turned at once, alert and serious. A mysterious man stood watching her, a sword at his side.
— Why are you carrying a sword? — she asked with authority. — Civilians are strictly forbidden to bear weapons!
The man smiled calmly and said:
— I know who you are... but do you know who I am?
Suspicious, Anistina raised her hand.
— Identify yourself. Now.
The man stepped forward, unfazed.
— Grant Bolier. Former Captain of the Royal Guard and swordmaster to the Hero-King Edrian Izius. A pleasure to finally meet you, Commander.
At the sound of that name, a chill ran down her spine. Her eyes widened. That man was a legend of the past... and, as far as everyone knew, long dead.
Now, standing before her — in flesh and blood — the past had returned to shake the very foundation of the present.