Evolution begins with an ant colony

A few nights ago, in the heart of Alkadia, a world that was once the home to majestic dragons, the Holy Empire stood as a beacon of hope. This grand nation had undertaken the noble charge of summoning heroes from another world.

The Holy Empire was not just a name; it was a bastion of strength, and its lands stretched far and wide, making it the mightiest among the seven nations of the continent of Galeia.

Within the walls of the royal capital's castle, anticipation hung heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of polished stone and age-old paintings. The king, a man who embodied the very essence of power and majesty. He was none other than Nevi Von Valistine, the 23rd. His name echoed through history like a triumphant war anthem, for he was not merely a king; he was a legend in his own right.

Known far and wide as a god of war, King Nevi bore the weight of many titles, each earned through valor and relentless leadership. From the moment he ascended the throne, he became a living legend, a swordsman grandmaster. His name was whispered with awe and reverence, carrying tales of his battlefield prowess.

With a crown of silver and a scepter of authority, sat at the head of a long, ornate table. Beside him, the nobility, in lavish clothing and bearing centuries of lineage. And seated across the king, on the opposit side of the table, was the venerable head priest, clad in sacred vestments, lent an air of solemnity to the gathering.

The invitation to this secret meeting happened quickly and quietly, like hushed conversations and sealed letters. It felt like the entire world was waiting anxiously because this wasn't just about politics – it was about the destiny of Alkadia.

Everything was on the line, and in this special gathering with dim candlelight and echoing footsteps, the king, nobility, and the head priest gathered to talk about something that could decide the world's future.

In the dimly lit chamber, the king's voice broke the heavy silence with a calm, yet commanding tone. "Now, Head Priest," he began, his eyes fixed on the man across from him, "do you care to explain what you detailed in that letter? The one about the missing heroes and the church's capture of one who has become a half-demon."

A bead of sweat coursed down the Head Priest's cheek as he got up and stood before the ruler, fully aware that his choice of words carried immense weight. King Nevi was renowned for his unbending resolve, and while he might not take direct action against the holy church, he was known to be a strict and no-nonsense individual.

With great care, the Head Priest, his voice calm and composed, began to unravel the tale. "My Lord," he said, clutching the scepter of truth, "we invoked the specter of truth upon the fallen Hero, Ken. Through this, we discovered that a demon had approached him while he was in the midst of sword practice within the castle academy's training grounds. This demon, my liege, promised him great power."

The king leaned forward, his eyes intently fixed on the Head Priest, urging him to continue, and the atmosphere in the chamber grew more tense with every word. Read exclusive adventures at empire

The Head Priest resumed, a furrow of concern etched across his brow. "My liege, the troubling part is that in the hero's memories, the demon's face was obscured, as though it had been deliberately cut from his recollection. With this unsettling agreement made, the hero was then transported to the demon continent through a strange, pulsating purple portal.

The moment he crossed into that otherworldly realm... The septer stopped displaying anything futher."

Amidst the hushed unease, a nobleman named Lord Frederick Alderway, with his blond hair neatly combed and piercing emerald eyes, clad in sapphire-blue attire adorned with intricate gold embroidery, rose from his seat. His vehement voice thundered as he slammed his hands on the table. "Head Priest, are you suggesting that's all there is to this? This can't be the full story, can it?"

The Head Priest, continued in a tone tinged with apology. "I regret to say, my lord, that is the extent of what we were able to discern. Before we could delve any deeper into the matter, the hero met a tragic end, succumbing to the insidious corruption of chaos mana within his very being."

The chamber fell into a heavy silence, and the weight of uncertainty hung in the air, like a storm on the horizon.

In the midst of the charged atmosphere, another nobleman, Sir Geoffrey Ravenscroft, a man with sapphire hair and steely gray eyes, clad in a deep burgundy robe that contrasted starkly with his pale complexion, remained seated. His voice, though calm, bore an undertone of thinly veiled frustration.

"What about the missing heroes?" Sir Geoffrey inquired, his gaze steady on the Head Priest. "Do we have any inkling of their whereabouts? It seems to me we are owed answers for their disappearance."

With a regretful sigh, the Head Priest met Sir Geoffrey's inquiry with a somber expression. "Regrettably, my lord," he began, "we have no leads on the whereabouts of the missing heroes." His response hung heavy in the air, leaving a palpable sense of unease in the chamber. Lord Frederick, having sat back in his seat, mirrored the collective disappointment felt by those in attendance.

Lord Frederick, folded his hands as he voiced his disappointment, his words laced with an undeniable frustration. "How truly disappointing this is," he sighed, shaking his head. "Is this the result of entrusting the heroes to the church's care?"

The sentiment rippled through the chamber as another nobleman chimed in, his voice fraught with concern. "I can't fathom it," he lamented. "The church's actions may have set us on a perilous course, one that threatens us all." The weight of uncertainty bore heavily upon the gathering, and the sense of foreboding deepened with each passing moment.