Chapter 1

The grand hall of the Solar Empire's palace shimmered under golden chandeliers, each flame enchanted with celestial fire that never flickered. Ministers and generals stood in a single motion, their ceremonial robes brushing the marble floors as the heavy gates creaked open.

A guard’s voice echoed across the high-vaulted ceiling, reverent and booming:

“All rise for His Majesty, the Greatest Human Emperor—Veeratya Ashwaha, the One Blessed by the Gods and Loved by the Mortal World.”

A hush fell over the assembly as Emperor Veeratya Ashwaha entered, his regal form exuding unmatched grace. Every step was deliberate, his silver-lined crimson robes trailing like blood-stained light. Though his face bore the wear of age, the fire in his eyes had not dimmed.

His aura silenced even the boldest of warriors. A quiet fear—no, reverence—spread in his presence, as if the world itself dared not speak without his permission.

With a single sweeping motion, he seated himself upon the golden throne inlaid with divine runes and dragonbone.

"Let the Assembly begin," he commanded, voice deep, controlled, but tinged with fatigue.

A nervous minister stepped forward, bowing low.

“Your Majesty, there is news—good and grave. Crown Prince Arvandyr has once again proven himself. He led a successful defense in the Eastern Province, saving hundreds from a demonic siege. The people sing his name.”

A ripple of relieved murmurs followed, but the air turned heavy as the minister continued.

“However… the demons are no longer isolated. Attacks have begun on the northern and southern outskirts as well. The balance once kept has begun to falter. Prince Arvandyr is doing all he can, but—he is only one man.”

Another minister whispered, “The war between the Gods and the Demonic Clans has reignited. The celestial balance is shattering.”

Emperor Veeratya closed his eyes for a moment.

“We will support the Heavenly Emperor in this war… in every way possible. This is not just their war—it is ours, too.”

His words sparked debate and panic. Voices clashed in the hall—about resources, armies, prophecies, and portents. Until—

A clear voice sliced through the chaos like a blade:

“Have you forgotten where you stand, Minister Kael?”

The hall went still.

All turned toward the speaker.

Princess Mahitri, daughter of Emperor Veeratya, stood tall—her black hair flowing like nightshade, and eyes the color of ancient sapphire. She wore no crown, no jewels. Only the armor of a warrior, and the quiet power of one born to lead.

“This is the Hall of Kings, not a marketplace of panic,” she said, voice sharp. “I will look into the matter personally. Please, Father—grant me this duty.”

The emperor looked at her for a long moment, his weathered hand clutching the armrest of his throne.

Then he nodded.

“Permission granted. Go with my blessing, my daughter.”

The Assembly was dismissed, but the heavy air lingered.

As the guards filed out, Mahitri noticed something. Her father’s hand trembled. A sudden cough wracked his body, harsh and lingering.

“Father…” she stepped forward, voice low, worried.

The Emperor smiled faintly.

“My time grows short, Mahitri. I feel it in my bones. But I am not afraid. I believe in you… and your brothers. Our legacy lies in your hands now.”

“No,” Mahitri said, her voice breaking. “Don’t say that. We still need you.”

Before more could be said, a royal guard approached and bowed.

“My Lord, you must rest.” He turned to Mahitri. “Princess, please excuse us. His Majesty’s health grows fragile.”

Mahitri nodded reluctantly.

“Yes. Take care of him… please.”

That Night

In her chamber, Mahitri laid out her ingredients under moonlight. Dozens of herbs and vials glowed faintly—but the medicine was still incomplete.

She stared at a blank space on her wooden tray.

The Leaf of the Heaven Tree.

The final ingredient. A leaf so rare it was believed to only grow in the Forests of Kaira, a place crawling with beasts and demonic scouts.

She tightened her cloak and prepared her sword.

From the door, a voice whispered urgently.

“Princess, where are you going?”

It was Shikha, her loyal maid and companion since childhood. Petite, fierce-eyed, and protective to a fault.

“I must leave tonight, Shikha,” Mahitri said, fastening her boots. “The medicine needs the Heaven Leaf. Time is slipping.”

“But the forest—”

“I’ll go alone if I must.”

“Then I’m coming too.” Shikha grabbed a blade from the wall. Two guards followed silently behind, sworn to secrecy.

Within the Forest of Kaira

The wind howled through ancient trees. Strange growls echoed all around.

Shikha, clutching her lantern, whispered:

“Princess… if the Emperor learns you left in secret, and without revealing your identity—we’ll all be punished.”

Mahitri’s voice was calm.

“Let him punish me. If I return with the cure, he’ll never have to.”

Just then, something rustled in the trees. The ground shook faintly.

Mahitri unsheathed her sword, its edge shimmering with a celestial glow.

“Stay close. We’re not alone.”

_____****______

World Context: The Balance Between Realms

Once, there was balance—Three Realms in harmony:

The Mortal Realm, governed by Emperor Veeratya and the Human Kingdoms.

The Divine Realm, ruled by the Heavenly Emperor and the gods.

The Nether Realm, home to demons, once bound by ancient treaties.

But all changed with the rise of the New Demon Lord: Zyvaron.

Under Zyvaron, the demons shattered the Pact of Balance. He opened portals between realms and sent his legions to weaken both gods and men. His goal? Unknown. But rumors speak of a plan to merge the realms—ending the cycle of reincarnation and creating a world ruled by shadow and chaos.

Now, human cities burn, divine temples crumble, and whispers of betrayal echo even among the gods.

And at the heart of it all…

Princess Mahitri, the warrior princess, walks into a cursed forest—hoping to save her father, unaware that her journey will uncover secrets older than empires… and awaken powers she never knew she had.

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