The King Of All Pussy

My name is Alyssa Roshka. For nearly two millennia, my ancestors ruled over the Ore Fortress.

Warlords, nations, and potential empires tried to dethrone us, greedy for the fortune that the crystal mountain offered us, but none broke through our barriers. They crashed against our walls like waves of the sea, only to be ruined by our magic.

They all failed... until Crownol arrived.

Suddenly, my family's reign came to an end.

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She lifted her head as they ascended the Stairway, known as Triumph. Uniformed guards watched over the staircase every twelve steps, but Alyssa's steadfast and determined gaze was fixed straight ahead. It was the girl's first time in the capital, but she refused to show any awe or to observe her surroundings like a provincial commoner. She came from the Ore Fortress, and royal blood flowed in her veins.

Magical guards in dark metal armor stood on either side of the staircase. The ore used to forge their armor came from the depths beneath Alyssa's home in the mountains. All the finest metal in Crownol had its origin there, in the underground abysses beneath the mountains. Unfortunately, it had been that way for five generations, ever since the kingdom was conquered by Crownol and incorporated into the empire.

Red banners fluttered in the dry wind of that afternoon as the group ascended the stairs. The scent of burnt magical energy and smoke reached them on the warm breeze. In Crownol, the forges rarely cooled down.

The Bastion loomed before them, dark and imposing.

"They flaunt luxury and wealth while our people live in misery," Oram said. She gave her disapproving look to her brother, who followed closely behind.

Oram Arkhan, broad-shouldered, strong-armed, and undeniably skilled in the domination of magical creatures, but in Alyssa's opinion, all of that came with a certain arrogance and intellectual limitation. However, she disguised her disdain behind an impassive and expressionless mask. He was older, even if only by a matter of minutes, and he was just two steps away from reigning supreme over the Ore Fortress. Alyssa knew her place well.

To an outsider's eyes, it was obvious that Alyssa and Oram were twins. Both were tall and athletic, and both had inherited the cold gaze of their family, as well as the haughty posture of those born into nobility. The siblings had long black hair braided tightly, angular facial tattoos, and gray cloaks that covered their armor.

They reached the top of the staircase. A flutter of wings disturbed the air, and a raven swooped low over their heads.

By instinct, Alyssa almost ducked, but she managed to restrain herself. "Could this be a bad omen, brother?" she asked.

She saw Oram clenching his fists.

"We have filled Crownol's coffers and protected their soldiers for so long," he growled, making no attempt to keep his voice from being heard by the guards. "And for what?" To survive, Alyssa thought, but she didn't speak it aloud.

Two fully armored warriors awaited the siblings on the other side of the palace's massive metal doors. They looked up. Their gauntlets tightly held two heavy runes, and the three indentations on their breastplates, along with their wine-colored cloaks and tabards, told Alyssa that these were not ordinary guards.

In a nation of assassins, Legion X, composed solely of elite members, was feared and respected by all, both allies and enemies. It was said that their mere presence could conquer entire cities and nations that had no hope of facing them in battle.

"It is an honor for us," Alyssa said.

"Come, brother. It is time to personally meet the famous 'Council of Crownol'."

The first thing one saw upon entering the audience chamber was the throne of the former emperors of Crownol. It was an immense object, carved from obsidian, angular and obtuse, and the numerous banners hung on the walls, pillars erected at sharp angles, and torches lit along the hall directed the gaze toward the throne. The entire space was dominated by the piece.

However, the throne had been empty since the Great General of Crownol had died.

Died, no, Alyssa corrected herself in her thoughts. Since he had been executed.

Without an emperor for Crownol, without a tyrant on the throne. That was in the past.

Before leaving the Ore Fortress, Alyssa had received advice regarding this new leadership.

"It is the 'Trax'," her father's chief advisor informed her. "Three powers united, each representing the essential principles of strength: Vision, Might, and Cunning. The theory is that if before a single individual could ruin Crownol due to incompetence, madness, or corruption, now there will be two others to hold them accountable for their actions."

To Alyssa, it was an intriguing concept, but one that had yet to be tested in practice.

The chamber had a cavernous air. It was large enough to accommodate over a thousand petitioners, but at that moment, it was completely empty, except for the three figures seated at a simple marble table at the foot of the throne platform.

The two stoic warriors of Legion X led Alyssa and her brother to the trio, their footsteps echoing heavily on the cold floor. The three were engaged in heated speculation but ceased their conversation as the siblings from the Ore Fortress approached. They sat in a row, facing the newcomers like a silent tribunal.

Alyssa knew two of them by reputation. As for the third... no one really knew him.

In the center, with an attentive and unmoving gaze, was Aelius Veridius--the renowned visionary, the new Great General. Some members of the noble houses still called him a usurper, for he had dethroned the madman, Octavio Malvolia, but none of them dared say it to his face. His gaze, which seemed to see too much, first landed on Oram, then shifted to Alyssa. She resisted the urge to look at the sleeve of the general's left arm, hidden within the dark coat. It was said that he had lost the limb during a failed invasion when some kind of blade witch severed it in that supernatural archipelago.

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