The lone king’s path reaches its end, and Hremont dies embracing the secret known only to him. Vildya, obscured by gunpowder smoke, in the endless killing with no tomorrow, the legend of Harga’s secret buried treasure gradually becomes known, but no one finds that gold vault.
Someone steps into the treasure-filled cave again, only many years later.
The kingdom newly established, Melot Dynasty’s founder Clovi I is in high spirits. He rides his horse, suddenly reining in, circling in place to show off his riding skills, then dismounts and looks at his respectful subjects: “Is it really Harga’s treasure in the cave?”
Lord Clair bows and answers: “Your Majesty, blessed by the goddess, inheriting the hero’s treasures is only natural.”
Clovi laughs, slapping Clair’s shoulder, and walks into the cave, falling silent while looking at the glittering treasures. He says flatly to the marquis: “This must be kept secret.”
The other’s expression tightens, and he bows deeply: “Understood.”
The Claire family was originally powerful, and even if Clovis had thoughts of silencing them, it would be impossible to implement. Rather than becoming enemies, it was better to join forces and share the treasure.
From that time on, the Merlo dynasty prospered and grew strong, with prosperous and obedient territories. His Majesty the King was wise and capable, and the people lived in peace and happiness. The oracles of Noen Palace always said that the goddess blessed all directions, and this was the best of times.
However, by the third generation of the kingdom, the territories gradually became restless. The political situation was still turbulent, with civil war imminent. Chancellor Pepin mediated between the Claire family and the Aquin Duchy, but tensions remained high.
The flames of war were inevitably burning across the continent. People were killing each other for inexplicable reasons, calling it glory. This time, however, the killing was more brutal than ever. Knights, royalty, mages, priests – everyone was adding fuel to this catastrophe. Forces more powerful than the legendary era collided on the battlefield, with spilled blood staining the sky. Rumors of the apocalypse made refugees fleeing the war increasingly anxious.
Later, no one knew what they were fighting for anymore.
Everyone only knew that if they stopped fighting, they would surely die.
