Seven centuries before the great war, the continent of Valaska stood as a symbol of a balance that was never meant to last.
The great kingdoms did more than coexist—they were bound by shared interests. Trade routes remained open, treaties were honored with care, and their rulers came to agree on one thing: stability was worth more than ambition.
For a long time, that peace endured.
Too long..
And like anything that outlives its time, it began to lose its meaning. Not because of war. But because people had come to believe war would never happen.
It was in that certainty that a man appeared.
No one knew where he came from. He carried no royal crest, spoke in no familiar tongue, and had no clear purpose. Yet his presence spread in a way that could not be stopped. Through words.
He did not threaten. He did not persuade.
He only repeated one thing.
That Valaska would fall.
That a war unlike anything seen before would sweep across the continent, erasing every illusion of peace they had come to trust.
At first, he was ignored.
But words, once spoken, never truly vanish.
They linger. They settle. They turn into whispers… and then into doubt.
Until, eventually, the question began to change. Not whether it was true, but if it was… who would start it?
From that moment on, distance began to grow.
The man was captured. Not because he was believed, but because he was considered dangerous. He was interrogated, pressed to explain himself, yet nothing was uncovered but one thing. Consistency.
He never changed his story. Never defended himself. And most unsettling of all.. he never tried to convince anyone.
As if what he spoke of was not something to be believed, but something inevitable.
King Calis of Pelvis personally oversaw the interrogation. Yet even before a king, the man offered nothing more than he already had.
Until one final moment, when questions themselves had lost their meaning, he gave a different answer. That humans have always needed something to believe in. And this time, they chose to call it the will of the Goddess.
That alone should have been enough to dismiss him as mad.
But before it ended, the man did something he should not have done.
He spoke the king's name.
Without title. Without hesitation.
"Calis…"
And for the first time, he was not speaking to the world—but to a single man.
He said that when the conflict finally began, the Kingdom of Pelvis would not be a victim.. but the center of it all. The force that would break the balance upheld for centuries.
And then, he spoke of something no one could even verify.
That within the destruction, someone would appear—someone with no ties to power.
A pawn.
Someone insignificant at first… yet destined to shape the course of the entire conflict.
He gave no name.
Only a single word.
Ille.
No one understood it at the time.
But change had already begun.
Not through open war, but through small fractures that slowly eroded centuries of trust.
Meetings grew shorter. Agreements were questioned. And what was once absolute began to crack.
Until, at last, an incident occurred.
Not enough to be called the beginning of war.
But enough to destroy the final belief that war would never come.
And from that moment on, Valaska was no longer moving toward peace…
But toward something no one would be able to stop.