When the Apocalypse Beast, Rygar Adoldia, swept the sacred city of Milishion off the map, that event was recorded — and eternalized — as the end of the Sacred Kingdom of Milis.
In the history books that would be written in the future, that date would become the exact day of the fall of the Sacred Kingdom.
The Iron Legion, under the command of the Beast God, had taken practically all the major cities, defeated the armies, subjugated the main leaders and completely dissolved the religious structure that had supported the Kingdom for centuries.
The flags bearing Milis's emblem were destroyed. The temples that were not torn down were converted into centers for healing, training, or magical research.
The victory of the Great Forest was complete. But toppling a Kingdom that had survived for hundreds of years is never simple.
Rygar could kill his opponents, tear down walls, burn a city and even crush entire armies — but even the most powerful being would have difficulty uprooting all the roots that had spread deep into the soil of Milis.
Those roots were the people.
Even after the destruction of Milishion, many remnants still survived scattered about. Many were killed in the Iron Legion's relentless hunt. Others surrendered and integrated into the new regime, accepting the new laws under the rule of the Kingdom of Gaia.
But there were those who did not give up. Fanatics. Stubborn ones. Faithful who believed that Milis would never be defeated — only temporarily suppressed.
These few chose to disappear. Most of them knew they could not use force against the Beast God. They did not start open rebellions, raise banners, or form armies.
Instead, they blended in with the populace, assumed new identities, and secretly worshiped Milis.
From these stubborn faithful arose the organization known as the True Order.
To them, the new government — the Iron Legion and the Kingdom of the Great Forest — was an abomination, a distortion of the divine will.
And it was even more abominable that there were believers of Milis who had surrendered to that evil.
The "True Order" represented a return to the purity of the original faith, and the purpose of resisting the beastly demon until the day the chosen of Milis would rise to judge the world and purify the continent.
The man behind that organization was primarily Lothair McFarlane, one of the last great surviving priests of the old Kingdom.
Lothair had served directly under Cardinal Leblanc McFarlane, who was his uncle and one of the pillars of the Church before his death in the fall of Milishion.
He was a man of austere appearance, white hair, a deep gaze and a presence that blended serenity and fanaticism.
He wasn't in Milishion for the final battle. Then, when the Kingdom collapsed and the Church was burned, he disappeared completely.
For months, no sign of him was found. Neither the Iron Legion's warriors nor Lothair's former allies knew his whereabouts.
But the marks of his influence were there.
Lothair still communicated with the faithful through coded messages, secret symbols and engravings in the tomes of Milis.
No one knew for certain his location or his current situation. Lothair was a Saint mage, proficient in Healing, Barrier and Divine Magic. Compared to the forces of the current Kingdom of Gaia, he was considered only good.
But it was not his strength that made him a troublesome enemy — it was his caution and cunning.
Since the fall of Milis, he had never again been seen in public. He never used the same hideout twice. He never met the same messenger twice. He never allowed himself to be tracked by any kind of magic or clue.
He controlled everything from the shadows — like a ghost.
Lothair's philosophy was simple:
"Faith must not be displayed. True faith is the one that survives even when the sun does not shine upon it."
Those words became the dogma of his followers. Over the years, only the best among them survived.
The careless were discovered, captured and executed by the Iron Legion. Those who remained were meticulous, patient, and knew how not to leave traces.
And that was the real problem.
The True Order became a network of spies and fanatics infiltrated into cities of the Kingdom of Gaia, on the borders of the Great Forest and even in small distant villages.
Their number was small, but the quality of their members was high, at least in terms of concealment.
Although they did not represent a direct threat to the Kingdom's power, they were like thorns in the skin. Hard to remove, never stopped bothering, and always ready to cause damage at the right moment.
In the Iron Legion's barracks, the name "Lothair" was frequently mentioned in reports and conversations among generals — not with fear, but with irritation.
Finding and eradicating the True Order was a task that, even with the Legion's entire intelligence network, seemed impossible.
After all, covering an entire continent was something that not even Rygar could do.
But even with all the prudence and caution that Lothair McFarlane imposed on his followers, hiding all traces forever was an impossible task.
If there was something the Beast Race excelled at more than any other, it was tracking.
And, with the advancement of the Beast God Style, which was now taught widely within the Iron Legion, the tracking abilities of the beast warriors had risen to a new level.
Even other races — humans, elves and demons — began learning techniques from that style, sharpening their senses to rival the instincts of a beast.
Furthermore, there were some truly exceptional warriors among them.
And it was precisely Taes Dedoldia who finally found the first concrete trace of a True Order base.
A pattern of illegal goods movement between small towns, combined with inconsistent disappearances of reformed priests.
Taes was not the reckless type; he knew that a single false move could alert them all.
So he initiated a secret operation with the objective of mounting a coordinated total assault, something that could eradicate the fanatics at once and, more importantly, extract information about possible other bases before executing them.
As the operation's preparations were assembled, the Legion's Intelligence reports began to draw a clearer picture of the True Order's activities.
Their attacks were small but constant — sabotage, isolated assassinations, discreet arson and thefts of supplies.
The main targets consisted of lower-ranking military and nobles, as well as administrative centers of small towns, town halls and temples.
The fanatics always left messages at the crime scenes — phrases written in blood or carved into the walls.
"The flame of Milis has not gone out."
"The repentant can still return to the sacred path."
"The demon reigns only while the Saint sleeps."
It was an attempt to spread fear and doubt among the populace — but, in practice, almost no one took them seriously.
The truth is that the Kingdom of Gaia had consolidated quickly. The new order imposed by the Iron Legion was firm, just, and efficient.
The presence of the Beast God and his generals inspired respect and maintained loyalty among the people, even among Milis's former citizens.
Moreover, the lives of ordinary people improved drastically under the new government.
For centuries, Milis had been corrupted from within.
Religion served as a shield for nobles and priests to exploit the population, and the caste system ensured that the plebeians' suffering was considered a "divine trial."
Under the Legion's supervision, those practices were extinguished.
The most heinous and corrupt nobles were tried, most executed publicly. Milder crimes received proportional punishments, such as compensation, forced labor, or periods of imprisonment.
The investigation conducted by the Legion revealed a terrifying amount of crimes — trafficking, murders, imprisonment, even atrocities forbidden against children and captive slaves.
For the population, it was a terrible shock, but also a liberation.
There was, of course, resistance. Especially among those who had lost their privileges — former merchants, slave owners, priests and ruined nobles.
Illicit transactions and bribes were common in the first year, when the new law was still being consolidated.
In many places, there were periods of instability, but not for long.
Cities flourished again, commerce recovered, and even humans — who initially feared the new races coexisting among them — eventually grew accustomed to the presence of beasts, elves and demons living at their side.
There was still discomfort, yes. The fear of the different never disappears so easily. But everyday life had improved enough that most preferred the new regime.
Rygar Adoldia himself knew that change would never come without obstacles.
He never expected a smooth transition, nor believed he could please everyone. He knew that humans fear change — and that, inevitably, some would be crushed in the process.
For those, Rygar showed no mercy.
To him, they were merely side effects of a necessary process. The important thing was the result — a united, strong and free continent.
In the long term, he believed that the Legion's actions would bring benefits incomparably greater than any damage caused.
Not only for the Beast Race, but for all races living under the dominion of the Kingdom of Gaia.
And, above all, Rygar knew that, so long as there were men and women willing to protect this new society, the sacrifice of a few would be worth it.
And on that day, there was an operation that would certainly make Gaia a little cleaner kingdom.
---
In a small walled town in the interior of the Kingdom of Gaia, there was a modest temple, built of stone and wood, with a broken Milis cross still hanging above the door.
The Healing Temple was tended by an old priest named Pipi, a thin man with white beard and tired eyes.
Even after the fall of the Kingdom of Milis and the rise of the new order, he did not abandon his faith. He surrendered only on the surface, and in his core he cursed the new rulers, the 'demons' and all who followed them.
He still read the Sacred Texts of Milis daily.
On that day, however, something bothered him deeply. The temple was empty.
No wounded, no villager seeking treatment, he was the town's only healer, so this was very unusual.
The old man looked toward the door and frowned.
"Hm… strange…" he muttered, adjusting his worn cloak.
It was then that the wood creaked. The door opened slowly, and a figure entered with light steps.
A woman of breathtaking beauty. Long golden hair, bright blue eyes.
But something was wrong. Pointed ears. An elf.
The priest's expression immediately closed in disgust.
The woman entered serenely, tying her hair into a ponytail. She wore partial silver armor, with wolf engravings carved on the shoulders and chest.
And in the center of the chest, a symbol of the Beast God. A dark-blue cloak descended from her back, dotted with embroidery that resembled a night sky full of stars.
At her waist rested a sheathed sword that emitted a constant yellowish glow.
"It's a pity the new blade wasn't ready in time…" the elf murmured, adjusting the grip. "Well… I'll have to hold myself from using mana, then."
The priest watched her with a mixture of hatred and revulsion. Even noticing her beauty, he felt filthy just to look.
To him, any nonhuman race was nothing more than a wild animal. He tightened his staff and spoke angrily:
"Who are you? This temple is sacred! I do not heal unclean beings, nor allow them to enter here!"
The elf merely smiled. A slight, provoking smile.
"Hehehe… I hope they resist a little," she said, walking calmly toward the altar. "After all… I am the lead combatant this time."
The old man froze.
"Ah! And don't think of escaping, your underground base is already surrounded on all five sides!" Verdia added upon seeing the old man's caution.
Every muscle in the old man's body tensed at hearing those words.
She knew everything. The labyrinths, the secret passages, the hideout beneath the temple.
A chill ran down his spine.
For a moment, the priest who pretended to be only a healer disappeared. In his place, the former assassin of Milis awoke.
In a quick, precise movement, he slid the chair aside and drew a short sword hidden beneath the table. The air rippled as he moved forward, his expression hardening into a hoarse shout.
"DIE, DEMON!"
Despite his age, his movements were sharp — he was an Advanced swordsman of the North God Style, and had been an assassin for many decades.
The cut came straight at the elf's neck, fast and true.
But she only tilted her body slightly, and the steel skimmed across her face.
Her smile remained. Her posture seemed more like a dance.
Before the old man could realize it, the elf had vanished from his sight like a blur. The wind blew like an invisible blade.
The old man tried to retreat, but it was already too late.
The cut came horizontally, accompanied by a gust of wind.
For a brief second, the world seemed to spin.
The priest saw the ceiling, saw the stained glass, saw the altar…
And then, he saw himself, in third person.
His head rolled across the floor, while the body still held the sword.
The dry sound of the body falling echoed through the temple, followed only by the rustle of the elf's cloak.
"One less," she murmured.
She walked past the corpse without looking down, heading toward the altar. Behind it, there was a staircase that descended into darkness.
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