Calca Bessarez was known as the Holy Queen of the Roble Holy Kingdom. At the bottom end of the line of succession, she had miraculously taken power through a variety of factors only she would be privy to.

However, she did not rule the entirety of Roble, rather, the kingdom had been split in half between north and south.

Her succession as the first queen was met with much discontent from the Southern Nobles who had favoured her elder brother despite said brother conceding his claim to the throne to her.

It was a mess, one fueled by a never-ending supply of coals being tossed into the fire.

Political turmoil, constant strife, and the strain of having to maintain vigil of the Abelion Hills where numerous Demi-Human species lived and threatened the kingdom, was exhausting.

The weight of duty itself would have been overwhelming for Calca if not for the support of her two closest allies, one the High Priestess Kelart, and the other, Paladin Grandmaster Remedios.

Recently, massive upheavals have been occurring in the south of the kingdom such that even many reputable knights and rangers from the north were migrating to the southern land.

Camelot, the Holy Valkyrie, and the reemergence of Evil, heralding a return to the harshness of the Dark Ages.

That was the primary driving factor spurring change throughout the kingdom.

Calca, Remedios, and Kelart themselves were no exception after a delegation of Knights from the rumoured Camelot had paid them an official visit in the Northern Castle, palace of the Queen.

Those prior events led to the current situation where a first official meeting was planned by the current powers of the South and North.

The sound of a carriage's wheels and spokes turning over a paved stone road echoed while Calca rested her chin over one of her hands. Seated within the carriage, numerous thoughts were running across her mind in her capacity as Queen of the North.

Not the least of which was the reminder that this wouldn't be the first time the north and south would meet again.

Just as the southern nobles had thought negatively of Calca's rise to Queen, the northern nobles steepled in their tradition thought no better. The Dukes and Marquis of the south were also likely to be involved in the meeting.

Camelot and its leader could not simply be said to have influence in the south if they didn't have the tacit support of the southern nobles and their political sway.

Calca knew her impression and reputation in the north was also far from stellar.

Even now, she fretted over what words those nobles might have already said to the Valkyrie pertaining to her?

The wrong idea was likely constructed in the Valkyrie's mind already, meaning an up-hill battle.

Still, Calca could not, and would not shirk away. It was her duty for her older brother who entrusted power to her, and for her own sake.

Perhaps, for the first time in years, the chance to reunite both halves of the kingdom, was at hand.

By combining the military and economic power of the north and south, there would be enough personnel and money to finance a stronger watch of the Abelion Hills. The poor would not have to go hungry, as food banks or churches can be set up to distribute emergency food.

The prospects were tempting, but everything hinged on this first meeting.

Calca's hands felt clammy, the constant tension and nervousness outweighing everything else.

Not even the sight of the dashing Knights of the Round who were escorting the carriage on horseback outside could alleviate her stress.

Remedios was not so hard pressed. Riding in the same carriage as Calca, Remedios was the only Paladin assigned to the Queen due to her capability.

Unlike Calca who was silently brooding, Remedios's attention was drawn to the appearance of the Knights escorting them outside the carriage. Although it was considered vigilance to keep an eye on them, Remedios was not fooling Calca or Kelart in the least.

The Knights of the Round established in the southern kingdom were not just capable enough to draw admiration from Remedios, but they were all handsome. A Knight order of pretty boys, handsome men, and aloof warriors…

Even now, Remedios found the hairs on the back of her neck rising as she recalled the time she spent sparring with them in the north.

Remedios was far more eager for the escort to break camp so that she could use the time to spar and converse with them again. However, that was unlikely as the carriage was due to reach Camelot within the day.

A pity.

"…" Kelart coughed, nudging Remedios on the side to get her sister to stop making such a disappointed expression. "Sister. Focus on the task at hand."

"R-Right," Remedios straightened her back before shaking her head. "The Queen has nothing to fear with both of us here together. Sir Lancelot has spoken nothing but praise for the Holy Valkyrie and her character. Sir Gawain even goes as far as to call her the King of Knights. Treachery should not be a concern."

"It's whether or not she truly is Roble's Valkyrie that matters," Kelart interjected with a degree of skeptic schadenfreude. "The delegation Knights and public opinion may not always reflect the nature of their leader. For example, would you believe popular sentiment in the south that insists that you, me, and the Queen are involved in a scandalous three-way relationship?"

Remedios scowled heavily, while even Calca flinched as her cheeks reddened with humiliation. It was a wound that would scab, and then be constantly picked at until it bled again.

"T-That's not true," Calca pouted, almost hissing at Kelart. "And keep your voice down. What if Sir Lancelot and the others hear and get the wrong idea of us?"

Kelart blushed at the notion, but seeing Calca in a fluster rather than brooding meant she'd achieved the desired result.

"You're too tense Calca," Kelart said. "You'll come off as stiff at this rate if you keep too many thoughts in your mind. At times like this, try to be like Remedios- not a care in the world."

"Hey!" Remedios grumbled.

Calca laughed, causing the edges of Remedios's lips to curve up even as she shook her head at Kelart's antics.

They were all going to be fine.

This meeting would turn out fine.

"Sound the trumpets and alert the Enforcement Knights of our arrival!" Sir Lancelot's voice boomed from outside the carriage, causing all three women inside to glance out of the carriage windows. "We will enter Camelot and head straight to the palace!"

Beyond the road trod over by the passing carriage and the sound of horse-hooves clopping, a sturdy ivory wall could be seen in the distance.

Banners of a roaring lion and three golden crowns upon an azure field were hung down like rafters.

The scale of the wall left little to imagine about the size of the kingdom inside. At the center was a tall spire stretching towards the sky, far bigger than any building Calca and the others had ever seen.

Lined atop the wall were patrolling knights that had paused in their tasks upon hearing the sound of the trumpets.

Calca noted that as soon as Sir Lancelot and the others were sighted, a flurry of activity commenced before clinking chains and creaking oak doors revealed the gates of Camelot opening.

High Priestess Kelart let out a soft exclamation as Calca and Remedios found themselves sitting straighter in their seats.

On either side of the entrance, rows upon rows of Enforcement Knights saluted on the roadside leading to the white castle at the center of the walled kingdom.

Behind the saluting knights were busy streets filled with people trying to peer towards the carriage with curiosity. Children, too small to be easily blocked were peering through the legs of adults while held by their mothers.

Compared to the south, the general atmosphere of this place, and the expression of its people were…

"I-It's bustling."

It was nothing like the current state of the south and the constant threat of a Demi-Human invasion.

It was no wonder Pabel of the nine colors took his family over to live here.

"Remedios, Calca, look at that." Kelart pointed out in the growing disparity of north and south.

Up ahead, Kelart could sense a dense gathering of divine and magic energy converged over an altar where people gathered and prayed with clasped hands. Upon the alter was a stone statue dedicated to the Holy Valkyrie.

Across from the altar was even a magic hall teaming with aspiring magic casters.

The smell of booze and the echo of laughter were contagious in this space.

In contrast to the land Calca ruled in the north, the south was prospering.

Seeing everything first-hand, a wave of shame came over Calca from being unable to produce a similar result. B-But it wasn't like this before.

None of it was like this before.

The rapid changes that occurred in the south came as a result of recent developments outside her own understanding.

In which case, it gave credence to the rumours of the Holy Valkyrie's return. Only with her as the national hero of the kingdom could such change be enacted with no opposition.

"…Is it truly the Valkyrie?" Kelart murmured just loud enough for the other two beside her to hear.

Calca and Remedios could not answer, rather, they were immersed in the jubilation of the crowd and what was awaiting before them as they were led to the royal castle ground.

Fields of grass were sprawled out between courtyards, each filled with various training or leisure facilities.

The cost to build everything was beyond any spending power Calca had access to, let alone collectively extol from her own citizens in the south.

Eventually, the three were escorted to the front of an audience chamber where Remedios found herself staring absently at the air.

Carefully reaching forward, Remedios extended a hand and allowed an object to land on her finger.

A tender warmth, regal, yet inspiring loyalty and devotion.

Light?

Motes of golden light were seeping through the doors of the audience hall, dancing through the air, it was clear that the audience hall was full of it.

"Golden dust…?" Calca trailed off before growing mute as the door opened.

Seated on a throne, a single individual was waiting with spotless features and piercing teal-colored eyes.

What was before Calca, Kelart, and Remedios was the rumoured Valkyrie herself.

The sheer regality of her presence, the dignity in her gaze, and the hue of the golden luster that seeped forth from her sheathed sword took the three's breath away.

Their nerves felt frayed; anything they had wanted or planned to say and discuss, fled their minds.

"We have returned, my King," Lancelot and the other escort knights entered, bowed, and took a knee.

"Rise and stand at ease." Arturia spoke candidly while slightly nodding her head. "You've all done well."

"We give thanks for your praise," Lancelot wasted no time following Arturia's command, as did the others who took up positions by the king's back.

Calca tensed when Arturia's gaze settled on her. As a ruler, she felt that she shouldn't falter in the face of another woman in a similar position as herself, but she couldn't quite meet Arturia's eyes.

"You must be the Queen of the North?" Arturia pretended as if she did not notice the slip, letting Calca breath out a sigh of relief. "I welcome you to Camelot as its leader, Arturia Pendragon- Roble's Holy Valkyrie."

Another knight, Agravain had coughed before Arturia had tacked on Roble's Holy Valkyrie to her name. Yet, by the looks of it, Arturia made a strained expression.

It was almost like she was flustered at the title in the same way Calca was flustered at the false slander of being in an illicit relationship.

Calca felt the edge of her lips tug.

Commonality, at least they had that.

"My name is Calca Bessarez, Queen of southern Roble." Calca did a small curtsy before gesturing to Remedios and Kelart. "These are my most trusted friends and subordinates, the High Priestess Kelart, and Paladin Grandmaster Remedios. I am pleased to make your acquaintance and have come to inquire about recent events in the south?"

"Ahem," Agravain coughed, drawing attention to him before Arturia nodded, allowing Agravain to take stage on her behalf.

Arturia was already doing her best to keep a straight face while putting a façade. Asking more from her would be too much.

"Old Evils are returning to this land," Agravain said with his hands clasped behind his back. "Yet we stand divided as a kingdom. To survive the coming age, what we must do is to return to the kingdom's roots, not as two self-governing regions, but as a single whole."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves Sir Knight, what is this evil you speak of?" Calca interjected. It wasn't that she didn't agree with the notion of reunification between the north and south, but it was how and why they went about doing it that mattered. "Am I right that you imply I concede authority?"

"In the face of evil, there is no greater enemy than internal weakness. Let me ask you this in my capacity as a Knight of the newly established Round Table, can you defend our kingdom?" Agravain asked.

A scoff escaped Remedios lips, but she contained herself as Calca herself took stage.

"It would be my duty," Calca said without hesitation.

"Then how would you defend it against an attack that could wipe out an entire army in a single swing?" Agravain sharpened his tone.

"You can't be serious?" Remedios muttered under her breath, but from the atmosphere of the room, it was more than just serious.

It was literal.

"I beg your pardon?" Calca could only blink at the face of Agravain's inquiry.

"Sir Gawain, if you would." Agravain gestured for Gawain to step forward before pointing at a distant hill through one of Camelot's windows.

Gawain paused, looking to Arturia first.

"Treat his words as mine for the duration of this audience," Arturia gave permission.

"Understood." Gawain bowed.

Much to the confusion of Calca and the others, Gawain walked out of the room.

"If I may ask, what point are you trying to make here?" Kelart said, frowning at Agravain.

It was true that Arturia's demeanor and presence were extraordinary, but that did not entail a right to kingship or law even against a supposed 'return of evil.'

Whatever notion Kelart was going to use as an argument to uplift Calca position in Camelot's audience hall died in her throat as the entire castle began to shake.

A suffocating heat passed through the area, causing cold sweat and terror to course through Calca's veins.

Kelart and Remedios immediately took guard of Calca, but no one else made any move as if this were the expected result.

Remedios moved to question what had just happened, but her mouth clacked shut when she noticed the direction Kelart and Calca were staring at in a daze.

Unexpectedly, Calca and Kelart were looking through the very window Agravain had pointed out to see a barren flatland scorched black from iridescent flames.

Flatland?

The word appeared in Remedios's thoughts before she recalled a hill once existing there.

With the sound of clinking metal, Gawain re-entered the audience room and retook his place by the Round Table Knights.

By this point, Calca and the others connected the dots, staring at Gawain and his fellow knights in a new light.

Such fire power and capability were unprecedented in the present era. It was like the fables of the old age.

More importantly, Calca's expression grew ashen.

"Well?" Agravain pressed in a muted tone. "Can you defend our kingdom? The forces that stand against us may rival such power."

Calca could not answer because the answer was obvious. Against such adversaries, her castle and territories in the south would be annihilated without question.

"Where is your proof of this 'evil's return?" Remedios stood up in behalf of a disheartened Calca.

"Have you not heard of the distant news pertaining to the capital of other kingdoms?" Agravain sighed.

Now that it was mentioned, there was that supposed attack by a demon in Re-Estize.

Kelart wore an uncharacteristically stony expression on her face, as she changed her mindset and imagined how it would be like if she took everything that Agravain had said at face value.

The age of man and humanity's hegemony in the new world would be flipped on its head.

"Will you not join hands with Camelot and stand against the forces of the dark?" Agravain said, pressuring Calca with his stern hawk-like expression.

"I will have to think on it." Calca managed to retain her composure by drawing mental strength from past failures.

In the midst of discussion, the meeting took an unexpected turn.

A storm of rose petals filled the room and took the shape of portal. Opening, the petals fell down like a stream before two people stepped through the stream and appeared in Camelot's audience hall.

The sight of the two gave Arturia pause, but it wasn't as if she couldn't recognize the individuals.

In contrast, Remedios had a hand on the hilt of her sword while Kelart had divine based spells on the tip of her lips.

"At ease," Arturia took over Agravain, showing more enthusiasm upon doing so. "This is Merlin, Grand Magic Caster of Camelot, and that's Shirou. I'm sure you've made their acquaintance as they were part of the original delegation to the south, but had to leave on short notice due to circumstances."

Kelart, Calca, and Remedios gradually nodded their heads, the three more intrigued regarding the magic that had somehow transported people from seemingly out of nowhere.

If that were some sort of portal magic, Calca shuddered at the thought of creating a gate that connected the north and south. The economic and military aspect of such a method of transport could change everything throughout the world.

"Ah, was this bad timing?" Merlin said nonchalantly while his gaze focused on Calca, Kelart, and Remedios's feminine features.

It was an action that the women did not fail to notice. Remedios frowned quickly while Kelart stepped between Merlin and Calca.

However, Arturia's attention was on Shirou and the sheer intensity in the way he was looking at her. Her heart was doing funny things, and it made it difficult to appear indifferent or worldly to her present audience.

"Is something the matter?" Arturia couldn't help but ask Shirou.

Yet Shirou remained silent, eyes never straying far from Arturia, making her feel more and more self-conscious that she'd done something wrong or was doing something wrong.

Merlin suddenly clapped in the awkwardness, drawing the attention to him.

"It seems we are interrupting a meeting," Merlin grinned. "Perhaps its about the return of the Evil ones?"

"That is correct," Remedios said on Calca's behalf. "Yet, I still find the notion hard to believe."

"Is that so?" Merlin drawled before tapping his black staff over the ground. "Then perhaps I should show you the battlefield where my colleague and I just departed from?"

Another storm of flower petals took shape in front of Calca, Remedios, and Kelart before revealing glimpses of the battle between the Demons, the Undead Magic Caster, and the annual war between Re-Estize and the Empire.

The stretching silence and the beads of sweat that formed over Kelart and Calca's temples spoke volumes for everyone.

"The enemy's numbers are vast. For each person slain, the lich creates new fodder and a never ending, never tiring hoard." Merlin shared his observations. "The Demons are at his beck and call, and perhaps somewhere out in the world are more allies that have yet to reveal themselves. We cannot remain divided as humans. Nations, religion, doctrines, none of that matters in the face of this darkness. What we need are allies."

"What are you suggesting? That we find such allies and make them believe in something that's hard to wrap one's mind around?" Kelart interjected.

"There is a place in mind," Merlin said, before backing up as someone else took center stage.

Leave it to Merlin to understand and comprehend the root of a matter with just a glance.

"Before even that, we must focus inward at the state of our own kingdom. We cannot afford to remain divided. Not for our sake, but for the people who look up to us." Arturia spoke up, striding towards Calca to meet her face to face.

"Join us."

Elsewhere,

Deep in the heart of the Baharuth Empire, the muted return of the army was met with mixed cheers and confused hearts.

Supposedly, it was the Empire that turned out with least causalities and the most to gain from this annual war, but the faces of the soldiers that returned were ashen and restless.

At the center of it all, there were rumours that someone of great importance had been injured and the emperor himself saw it fit to oversee her treatment.

"How is she?" Jircniv asked after entering a secluded room deep in the heart of his palace.

The security in the area was tight, the Four Imperial Knights themselves guarding without pause or hesitation.

Inside the room lay an unconscious Nero. Her wounds were cleaned and her clothes changed into a silken long gown.

Her body was placed on a luxurious bed surrounded by red rose petals, a laurel wreath adorned over her head.

By Nero's side, an old physician was carefully doing a health inspection under the scrutiny of Jircniv himself.

"She's asleep, but unresponsive." The old healer was at a loss for words. "I've not seen anything like it."

Nero was healed. For all intents and purposes, the old healer could see nothing wrong. But purportedly, Nero had not woken up in days, something that was far too unusual.

"Could it be a curse?" Jircniv pursed his lips, jaw clenching.

"I do not know," the old healer said. "Her condition is fine. Her wounds are mended, her breathing is stable, and yet she does not wake as if her mind is elsewhere."

"That's not the answer I wanted to hear," Jircniv balled his hands into fists.

"But it's the only one I can presently give," the old healer wilted under the intensity of Jircniv's stare.

"See to it that she's healed." Jircniv turned around, glaring as he noticed that the old healer had been snacking on refreshments while tending to Nero as if there were nothing to do. Useless. "…For your sake."

The physician swallowed, eyes widening as if he'd finally registered the gravity of his current position.

Before him was not simply the pragmatic and logical ruler of the Empire, but the Bloody Emperor who had not hesitated to commit a purge.

"B-By your word, Emperor."

Jircniv was no longer listening, having already left the room with a nod to his four imperial knights.

No one was to get in, or out without his consent.

The sight he saw, the voices he'd heard, and the revelations he'd been given were gnawing on Jircniv's mind. Yet that wasn't all.

Beyond his feeling for Nero, the rational side of Jircniv understood that the Empire was vulnerable.

Jircniv began to pull at his hair, lost in deep thought regarding the Undead Magic Caster.

That sort of power, that sort of capability, entire kingdoms could be swarmed and annihilated overnight.

Was this the terror of the dark age of the Evils?

Shuddering, Jircniv hardened his resolve.

The Empire would not die in his hands.

"Your majesty, a letter from Roble."

Hmm?

It was in the midst of Jircniv's musings that a delegate from an embassy the empire had set up in Roble came to report.

Jircniv wasted no time.

With all things considered and the fact that he'd been warned of the demons by Roble before, it meant that Roble likely had an idea of what the world was facing in the coming age.

Opening the letter delivered by the messenger, Jircniv fell into further thought.

It was a request to hold a Council of Humanity for all those who would choose to participate.

All things held the same, it was likely that other neighboring kingdoms were also sent the same invitation.

Such a thing had never been heard of before.

Thanks for reading!

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