Ancient Empire Calendar, Year 1834
During the invasion of the Sapharos race in 1813, fifty thousand Sapharos soldiers were taken prisoner.
Half of these prisoners were sent to Kislathor, the other half to Ashterah.
Savage experiments, beyond the imagination of the human mind, were performed on the prisoners.
These experiments were inconclusive, revealing that the biological differences of the Sapharos race from the Human race were their horns, wings, and tails.
Half of the prisoners died during the experiments, either from the wounds inflicted or from intense stress and pain.
The remaining Sapharos were subjected to crossbreeding experiments.
Male and female Sapharos were paired with ordinary men and women from the populace, as well as those carrying Kislavein and Ashterah blood.
The hybrids born from these unions varied according to their lineage.
From the union of a male Sapharos and a woman of Kislavein blood, a hybrid race was born: three meters tall, with immense muscle mass, strength, and near-limitless endurance, possessing sharp teeth and claws.
This race was named Orcelorc, meaning in the Ancient Imperial tongue "large-built, powerful person."
From the union of a male Sapharos and a woman of Ashterah blood, a hybrid race was born with sun-yellow wings resembling those of birds.
They had long, straight hair and bright yellow eyes. The women were slim-waisted and slender, while the men were large and burly. They were highly skilled in combat and Aura.
This race was named Merqhilim, meaning "beautiful bird" in the Ancient Imperial tongue.
From the union of a male Sapharos and an ordinary woman from the populace, a hybrid race was born. Instead of arms, they had a pair of wings allowing rapid movement through the sky. They had massive feet with huge claws, capable of shattering even iron armor, compared to their slender legs. They were cursed with distorted faces.
This race was named Harqalos, meaning "disgusting bird" in the Ancient tongue.
From the union of a male Kislavein and a female Sapharos, a hybrid race was born, barely taller than a ten-year-old child.
They were quite plump but possessed dense muscle mass, skilled enough to wield massive weapons as if waving a knife. They drew attention with their long, bushy beards and handlebar mustaches, and had bulbous noses. They were highly skilled in crafts requiring finesse, detail, and care, as well as in blacksmithing.
This race was named Dwarf, due to their stature. However, they became the most loved and adopted race among the Hybrid Races.
The main reason for this was less their skills and more their witty, humorous temperament.
They were a race so jocular they could make even the sternest, most serious people laugh.
From the union of a male Ashterah and a female Sapharos, a hybrid race was born with slim waists, slender arms and legs, and pointed, long ears. Both males and females possessed beautiful faces and sexy bodies. They were exceptionally talented in archery and magic.
This hybrid race was named Elferied, meaning "beautiful-faced" or "slender and slim" in the Ancient Imperial tongue.
From the union of an ordinary man and a female Sapharos, the most horrifying race was born.
Their faces and bodies were nauseatingly hideous, so terrible that even Ricardo couldn't bear to look at them. He ordered them all to cover their faces and bodies with clothes or armor.
This hybrid race, subjected to endless bullying due to their appearance, were actually docile, introverted, and extremely loyal companions.
They were deathly loyal and protective towards their leaders, whom they saw as masters.
But despite all these good qualities, they were named Hilqap, meaning "disgusting, nauseating" in the Ancient tongue.
For these experiments, each male Sapharos was married to three women: one Kislavein, one Ashterah, and one ordinary woman from the populace.
The Sapharos women were divided into three groups: one group married to men of Kislavein blood, the other groups to men of Ashterah blood and ordinary men.
For this reason, the number of hybrids born from male Sapharos was naturally higher than the number born from female Sapharos.
As a result of all these crossbreeding experiments, many hybrids were born. During the war, support Legions were formed from these hybrids for emergencies.
Consisting of a total of 200,000 soldiers, these support units, responding to Marco Kislavein's call for aid, set out on a campaign towards the Southern Lands under the command of Dynasty Lady Xiao Meiran Ashterah.
"My Lady, are you sure you wish to command the army?"
Barmung Payrist VII, son of Arlek and the 30th Dynasty Lord of the Payrist Dynasty.
Barmung had silver hair and silver eyes, characteristic of the Payrist Dynasty. His appearance resembled his father's youth.
He was a handsome 19-year-old, short-haired, tall, and muscular.
"What do I lack compared to Marilin, Barmung? I can fight just like her. The blood of the 121st Ashbrum Dynasty Lord flows in my veins. I am talented in both Aura and Magic."
Barmung voiced his concerns again.
"But you have no battle experience. You have spent your whole life in the Palace. And who will govern the Western Lands while you are away?"
"I have left the governance to Lady Dilara Constantinos. Though she is a peasant girl, she learns quickly and can handle the administration."
"And your children?"
"Enough, Barmung. You speak too much on matters that are not your concern."
Meiran took a deep breath and calmed down.
"I understand your concerns, but I can trust Dilara blindly. In this palace, we have lived through the first period where the blood of babies and children did not flow. We all formed good friendships. Our children formed a strong bond of brotherhood. So, my mind is at ease. Let yours be at ease too."
"Very well, My Lady. As you see fit," said Barmung, and he withdrew on his horse.
Towards the end of the campaign, the fleet under the command of Hadrada Eulel IV, Lord of Flulel Harbor, anchored off the coast to transport the Hybrid Legions to the Eastern Lands.
Hadrada Eulel IV knelt, bowed his head, and presented his respects to Meiran.
"I greet the Dynasty Lady. I am Hadrada Eulel IV, Lord of Flulel Harbor, of the Eulel Dynasty. I am at your service, My Lady."
Meiran gestured for Hadrada to raise his head.
"If all preparations are complete, let us go, Lord Hadrada."
Hadrada replied.
"As you command, My Lady."
The Hybrid Legions boarded the ships. A day later, they landed in the Southern Lands. On the same day, 200,000 soldiers under the command of Jamshid III Arfas, Dynasty Lord of Arfas, lined up against them.
Jamshid III and the Arfas soldiers were shocked when they saw the army before them.
Jamshid strengthened his eyes with mana.
"What in the world are these? What kind of army is this? Are they flying? What are these disgusting monsters? Are those children?"
Jamshid gazed in amazement at the army before him, from the flying Merqhilim and Harqalos, to the colossal Orcelorcs, to the child-sized Dwarves.
"What kind of creatures are these? They are even more terrifying than the demons in the Ancient Holy Books."
Xiao Meiran could see and feel the looks of shock and fear in the Arfas army from kilometers away.
"This is the perfect time to attack, My Lady. Please give the order."
Mathew Kislavein, son of Marco Kislavein.
He had long, dark blood-red hair and dark blood-red eyes. He was an average-height, muscular, and handsome 18-year-old.
"Mathew, Lord Barmung. The killer of your fathers stands right before you. I will support you with my magic. Take that killer's head."
Mathew and Barmung bowed their heads in obedience.
"AS YOU COMMAND, MY LADY!"
Meiran gave the order to attack.
"ATTACK!"
The Hybrid army charged towards the Arfas army.
Barmung and Mathew led the assault.
The Harqalos dove from the sky like hawks focused on their prey, tearing dozens of soldiers apart in a single attack.
"AHHHH!"
"WHAT ARE THESE THINGS?"
"DEMONS!"
The Merqhilim made swift dives from the sky, engaging the Arfas soldiers in hand-to-hand combat with swords, spears, and similar weapons shaped from their sun-yellow Auras.
"THEY'RE SO STRONG! AAHHH! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"
The Orcelorcs, leveraging their gigantic size and muscles, needed no weapons. Simply swinging their fists, they crushed Arfas soldiers' bones and organs in a single blow, killing them.
"MONSTER!"
Despite their short stature, the Dwarves slaughtered Arfas soldiers effortlessly with their massive weapons.
"HOW CAN THEY BE SO SMALL YET SO STRONG?"
The arrows shot and spells cast by the Elferied soldiers from vast distances caused the Arfas soldiers to panic in fear, unable to comprehend where they were coming from.
"WHERE THE HELL ARE THESE ARROWS COMING FROM?"
"AHH, DAMN IT!"
But despite all this, the thing that terrified the Arfas soldiers the most were the Hilqap, with their disgusting appearance.
"DISGUSTING! SO DISGUSTING! DISGUSTING!"
When Arfas soldiers killed Hilqap soldiers, the flesh and blood that got on their swords spread an unbearable stench, making the Arfas soldiers vomit.
"URGH!"
Meiran did not join the very front lines of the battle but rained death upon the Arfas soldiers alongside her mages.
She earned the appreciation and admiration of the soldiers beside her and those fighting on the front lines.
"The Dynasty Lady is stronger than she looks."
"Well, she is the daughter of the last Ashbrum Dynasty Lord. It's normal for her to be strong."
As the battlefield was painted with blood, flesh, and vomit, within less than an hour, the entire Arfas army was annihilated.
In return, the Kislavein Hybrid Army lost only a few thousand soldiers.
Jamshid saw no surviving soldiers around him.
"Are they all dead?"
Realizing he had lost, Jamshid looked for ways to escape, but he was surrounded on all sides by Hybrids.
"Shit."
The Hybrid soldiers parted, and two people approached Jamshid.
"Are you the commanders?" Jamshid asked.
Barmung replied.
"Yes. We have come for revenge for our fathers."
"I have killed many fathers. Which ones' children are you?"
Mathew answered.
"I am Mathew Kislavein, son of Commander-in-Chief Marco Kislavein, whom you massacred."
"And I am Barmung, son of Arlek Payrist."
"Marco, yes, I remember him. But I don't recall killing anyone with silver hair. Probably one of my soldiers did it."
Barmung looked into Jamshid's eyes, studying his reactions and body language. Convinced he wasn't lying, he stepped aside.
"This man isn't lying, Mathew. His blood is your right. I won't interfere."
As Barmung withdrew, Jamshid and Mathew began a one-on-one duel.
This battle, with clashing swords and exploding spells, continued for a very long time.
Finally, Mathew pierced Jamshid's heart with his sword, taking his life.
Jamshid fell onto his back on the sand and breathed his last.
The Hybrid soldiers began cheering for Mathew.
"MATHEW! MATHEW! MATHEW!"
After the battle, the Hybrids buried their dead and celebrated their victory in the evening.
"We salute your first victory, My Lady," said Barmung.
"We raise our glasses in your honor, My Lady," said Mathew.
"I congratulate you all as well. You were all magnificent."
The commanders were pleased with the compliment.
"My Lady, what are your plans for our next movement?" asked Mathew.
Meiran replied.
"We will conquer the Western Regions. Dynasty Lord Krael II will attack from the North. Ashterah Dynasty Lord Marco Ashterah will advance from the Eastern Regions. Within a few years, we will reach the Arfas center, Mah-Ehrem."
The late hours of the night were spent with conversations, plans, and entertainment. Eventually, the talk turned to marriages.
"Barmung, you are married, aren't you?" asked Meiran.
Barmung replied.
"Yes, My Lady. And I have a son. His name is Kervin."
"You were just a child yesterday, and now you are a father. Time truly flies. The days I got married and became a mother are fresh in my mind. By the way, are you alright? Both your father and your aunt died in the war. If it's too hard for you, you can return."
Feeling a motherly affection from Meiran that he had forgotten years ago, Barmung was overcome with an indescribable flood of emotion.
"This is so strange. I haven't felt anything like this since my mother died of illness," Barmung thought.
"I am fine, My Lady. On the other hand, I must continue fighting to avenge my father and aunt," said Barmung.
Satisfied with the answer, Meiran turned to Mathew.
"Mathew, you are 18 years old and still single. When will you get married?"
Mathew hated this kind of conversation, but since the question came from the Kislavein Dynasty Lord's wife, he had to answer.
"Well... I still haven't found anyone to marry, My Lady. And I doubt I will find anyone even after this war ends."
Meiran was surprised.
"A handsome young man like you wouldn't be left alone by girls. Normally, weren't there any girls you talked to at the Magic Academy?"
Mathew replied sheepishly.
"There were, but I never had a long-term relationship with any of them. All my friends got married. Only I remained."
Meiran smiled slyly.
"Then, would you like to marry my daughter?"
Mathew looked at Meiran, speechless. Barmung and the other commanders were just as surprised as Mathew.
"My Lady, such matters are subject to the Dynasty Lord's will. It wouldn't be right for us to comment."
"Don't worry. The Dynasty Lord already plans to marry you to either Selia or Demether."
"But they are both younger than me."
"Don't exaggerate, Mathew. There's only three years between you and the girls. If age is an issue, you should have found someone your own age at the Academy."
"You are right, Dynasty Lady."
The commanders listened silently and in amazement to this unusually informal conversation.
After a while, Barmung broke the silence.
"Well, My Lady, if you will permit me, may I ask a question?"
Meiran replied with a smiling face.
"Of course, Barmung."
"Who do you think is the most potential candidate?"
"Well, this is just my opinion, but it will most likely be Demether."
"May I ask why?"
"The reason is this: Although Marco Ashterah, the founder of the Ashterah Dynasty, is loved by the people, he was a distant relative of the last Ashbrum Dynasty Lord, my late brother Junric IX. Despite closer relatives being available, Marco's ascension to the throne still draws criticism from many."
Mathew found this problem absurd and meaningless.
"Is that important?"
Meiran replied.
"Unlike the Kislavein, where everything is based on power, in the East everything is built on merit and lineage. Marco was worthy of the throne; that is an indisputable fact. However, because he is a distant relative of the last Ashbrum Dynasty Lord, there are those who do not accept him. It's not important now, but this idea will grow and grow among future generations. That is the nature of the Eastern people."
Barmung saw the bigger picture with Meiran's explanations.
"In short, to silence these thoughts early, the marriage of the Ashterah Dynasty Heir with Lady Selia, the niece of the last Ashbrum Dynasty Lord Junric IX, will consolidate the legitimacy of the Ashterah Dynasty."
The conversations continued for a while longer. Feeling sleepy, Meiran stood up.
"Right. Well, that's enough for tonight. Good night, everyone."
Meiran retired to her tent, lay down on her bed, and closed her eyes. Her mind was still filled with the pride of her victory.
"The Dynasty Lord will be proud of me. I feel it. Ahh, I'm so happy. Anyway, I must pull myself together. I must act my age. Ah well. I had to be overly serious and formal throughout both my childhood and my old age. At least in my own mind, in my own world of thought, let me act how I want to be."
As Meiran slowly drifted off to sleep, her daughter Selia, now a grown young woman, came to mind.
"She grew up so fast. I wish she had stayed a child a little longer. I want to love her and spoil her more. But on the other hand, my princess will marry soon, and I will have grandchildren. I am so happy! I wish she would marry right now so I could hold my grandchildren."
When Meiran opened her eyes briefly, she saw her aging facial features in the mirror. The reality of her aging struck her once more.
"The years have passed so quickly. My childhood, my youth, Selia's birth and growth... Life is truly so short and so fast."
As Meiran fell asleep with her emotions, the Commanders and Hybrids slowly began to wind down their entertainment.
At that moment, one million soldiers under the command of Merco Ashterah, the Ashterah Dynasty Lord, landed in the Eastern Region of the Southern Lands.