Fifteen years after the Great Wall was erected to divide the continent—a barrier meant to contain the undead horde, those lingering spirits of an ancient civilization haunting the frozen peaks of the north—a battlefield sat at the heart of the central continent, the exact border where the world's three great kingdoms collided.
"Clang!"
"Charge!"
A middle-aged man wearing a crown hoisted his spear and sprinted toward the enemy forces surrounding his camp.
"Uwoooooh!"
Behind him, a sea of soldiers surged forward, following their king as he charged headlong into the fray. He carried a breathtaking, shimmering blue weapon—a trident that pulsed with light. Facing him, the enemy stood in disciplined ranks, spears leveled and ready.
Behind the infantry, archers waited for the perfect moment to loose their volleys. And behind them sat the heavy cavalry, led by a middle-aged woman in a crown. Her face was half-hidden behind a mask, and she wore the exquisite armor of a queen.
She drew her twin axes and raised them high. As the king and his men reached the center of the open field, she dropped her weapons in a sharp command, and the archers released their arrows. The king, leading from the front, saw thousands of shafts blotting out the sun.
He raised his trident, and a brilliant light erupted from it, forming a shimmering blue, semi-circular shield that protected his men like the depths of the ocean.
"Don't falter! Move! Those arrows can't touch us!" he roared.
"Push forward! Long live King Alfonso!" shouted a knight commander running at the king's side.
The arrows fell like rain, drumming against Alfonso's shield. Without stopping, Alfonso continued to lead the charge. He had accepted the worst; the enemy was at his final defense. Rather than die quietly, he chose to stand until the last second of his kingdom's collapse. Finally, Alfonso and his men crashed into the enemy infantry, breaking their line.
The slaughter began. With a single sweep of his trident, Alfonso could fell ten men at once. His elite guard followed his lead, carving a path through the chaos. Five hundred men, led by Alfonso himself, fought against a thousand infantry, archers, and cavalry. Bodies piled up on both sides, but the strength of Alfonso's elite force was undeniable. Within hours, they had decimated the enemy numbers.
Gasping for air, his body drenched in the blood of his foes, Alfonso finally stood before the Queen and her personal guard. He leveled his trident at her.
"Finally, we meet... Queen Anabelle Gracela Regenas," Alfonso said.
"Greetings, King Alfonso Heldis Neptunia. You are every bit as strong as your reputation suggests," Anabelle replied, unfastening her cloak.
She dismounted and handed the cloak to a confused guard. "Let me handle him," she said.
She walked toward Alfonso, the soldiers parting to let her pass. Gripping her twin single-edged axes, she stopped directly in front of him. "Click." She removed the mask covering the right side of her face. She was undeniably beautiful, but a birthmark resembling a massive burn scar covered the skin she had hidden. Her blue eyes locked onto Alfonso's with a cold, piercing gaze.
"You look beautiful, Your Majesty," Alfonso said.
"Spare me the lies. I know you're disgusted by my face," Anabelle snapped.
"Hahaha, you haven't changed a bit," Alfonso remarked.
"There is no time for the past. Your kingdom and my empire are at war. There is no room for nostalgia," she said.
"Even with that mark, I have always thought you were beautiful," Alfonso insisted.
"No more words, Alfonso. Come," Anabelle said, leveling her axes.
Alfonso spun his trident, dropping into a combat stance. Anabelle did the same, but suddenly, she paused. She stood up straight and sheathed her axes on her back.
"What are you doing? Why put your weapons away?" Alfonso asked, confused.
"Shink!"
Suddenly, a massive lightning-shaped sword with a white blade—now stained red—pierced through Alfonso's chest from behind. "Gaaah!" Alfonso spat out a mouthful of blood. He looked down and saw a blade white as a cloud protruding from his ribs. "Clang." Alfonso dropped his trident. Slowly, agonizingly, he turned his head.
"Alicia... Cleo... Zenodia..." Alfonso wheezed.
"Hello, my husband. Ah, wait. Now that I am officially the Queen of Zenodia, I suppose you're my ex-husband," Alicia replied.
"Crrrack!" Alicia wrenched the sword out. Alfonso collapsed to his knees, clutching the hole in his chest. He looked up at a beautiful middle-aged woman wearing a crown, her long white hair flowing over a suit of full plate armor.
"Queen... Alicia of Zenodia... why... why are you here?" Alfonso gasped.
"Ha... I simply wanted to help my husband depart this world along with his kingdom," Alicia laughed.
"You're my wife... shouldn't you... be helping me defend my borders?"
"Hmm... true. See for yourself," Alicia said, pointing behind him.
Alfonso's eyes widened. His elite guard was being slaughtered by a fresh wave of soldiers in white armor, flying the banners of the Kingdom of Zenodia. He looked back at Alicia, who was now standing side-by-side with Anabelle.
Everything became clear. The noble rebellion in his kingdom, the sudden death of the King of Zenodia that led to Alicia's coronation and their divorce, the declaration of war from the Regenas Empire over a trivial border skirmish—it all made sense. The two queens standing before him were partners.
"Hahahahahaha," Alfonso let out a bitter, broken laugh. "So, you two have been working together behind my back this whole time?"
"We aren't going to destroy your kingdom, Alfonso. We are going to build a new one on top of its ruins," Anabelle answered. "We may have our differences, but our enemy remains the same. As long as they exist, the three kingdoms that support this world must not fall."
"That's right, my dear. Now you can leave this world in peace and finally rest," Alicia added.
"So this was the plan all along... the secret movements in my court, the nobles jumping ship, the merchants fleeing to Zenodia... it was all you," Alfonso said.
"You finally realized. I didn't marry you for politics, Alfonso. Anabelle and I have been planning your downfall for fifteen years," Alicia said.
"But why? What did I do? I loved you both like sisters! We were raised together!" Alfonso's voice trembled with agony.
"If you truly only saw us as sisters, today wouldn't be happening," Anabelle said.
"Exactly," Alicia added. "Anabelle and I are closer than sisters. But when you were forced to choose fifteen years ago... you chose me. That was the problem."
"What? I had to choose to finish the Wall! If I could have picked both of you, I would have! I chose you, Alicia, because Neptunia and Zenodia are neighbors—we were small compared to the Regenas Empire. I thought we could strengthen each other! And unlike Anabelle, who was already a Queen, you weren't became one yet!" Alfonso cried out, unable to grasp their logic.
"My brother said the same thing. That's why I got rid of him and took the throne," Alicia replied.
"With my help, of course," Anabelle added.
Alfonso was hollow. The two women he cherished were standing over him, taking his kingdom, his life, and his legacy for reasons that felt utterly insane. They were resolute; there was no talking his way out of this.
"Hahahahahaha!" This time, his laugh was raw and primal, echoing across the battlefield like a wounded animal facing death. He reached for his trident and, with agonizing effort, hauled himself to his feet. He spun the weapon one last time.
"Fine. If this is what you want, then if I go down, you're coming with me," Alfonso said, a wide, sad smile on his face.
"Wait... what are you doing?" Anabelle and Alicia shouted, their eyes going wide.
"I'm separating my kingdom from yours... for Cronus!" Alfonso screamed.
"No! Stop!"
The queens lunged to stop him, knowing exactly what was coming. Alfonso slammed his trident into the earth with everything he had. The world shook. The ground split open with a violent crack, and seawater geysered up from the fissures, flooding the battlefield. Everything was swallowed by the ocean—Alfonso, Anabelle, and Alicia alike.
A new strait was born, physically severing the central continent from the south. This new land would later be known as the Black Continent—the home of demons and the sunken ruins of the Oceania Kingdom.
After the Regenas Empire, the Neptunia Kingdom, and the Zenodia Kingdom were shattered—their kings and queens perishing together in that final, violent act—the remaining leaders of the three realms made a desperate pact. They vowed that no such tragedy would ever stain the world again.
To unite the people, they founded a new religion centered on the worship of three deities: Soranus, the God of the Sky; Cronus, the God of the Sea; and Terranus, the God of the Land. They also established a single, unified government to rule over the ruins of the old world. This new realm was named the Vanadias Empire, and the faith that guided it was known as Esvana.
The final war of the three kingdoms, which had once balanced the world like the three hands of a clock, remains etched in history. It is remembered as the dark turning point—the moment the light of the old age went out, and the shadows began to swallow the world.