Vandoria, Dawn Province
After days of forced marching, Duke Pierre and what remains of his army finally reach the border of Dawn Province. What was once a proud force of 30,000 Vandorian troops had withered into a ragged column of barely a few thousand—wounded, limping, battered, humbled.
"Sir," an officer reported, "we should reach the city by nightfall."
"Good. Once we arrive, we'll contact the capital. Tell the men to keep moving," Pierre replies, his voice gravelly with exhaustion and humiliation.
They march through the serene, fertile countryside of Dawn. Green pastures. Rolling hills. Quiet streams. All beautiful—yet tainted by the stares of beastmen and human farmers working the fields. These people, originally Ravendawn citizens, had suffered under Vandoria's taxes for years. And now, when they see the arrogant Vandorian army staggering past—wounded, bruised, humiliated—they don't show sympathy. Some even smirk.
Pierre catches the expressions.
Laugh while you still can, you cowards…
When my army is reinforced, you'll be the first to pay. You'll regret betraying Vandoria.
His thoughts boiled, dark and vindictive.
A few hours later, his columns halt. An army blocks their path—thousands strong, Ravendawn banners fluttering, wyvern riders circling overhead. Smoke rises from the city of Dawn behind them.
At the front of the formation, mounted on a white steed, is Prince Luxius.
Pierre's face twisted.
"Y-You damned prince! You abandoned your position and cost us the battle!"
Luxius calmly raises his chin. "What do you mean? I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be—standing in a city that belongs to my people. And my battle is just about to begin."
"You made a deal with the demons!?"
"I'll make deals with any demon," Luxius said calmly, "if it lets me punish you."
"You traitor!"
Luxius raised his sword.
"RAVENDAWN-CHAAARGE!"
The field erupted into a roar as the prince's army surged forward.
Valinor, Capital City of Elvandar
Valinor is a beautiful and typical fantasy elf capital where somehow a huge city and a lush forest with giant trees can coexist together. Towering trees serve as skyscrapers, connected by elegant hanging bridges. Floating islands drift lazily overhead.
Oh, and don't forget the huge monstrous tree at the center that is so tall its crown disappears into the clouds. People can call it either Yggdrasil or the tree of life.
Graceful perytons (basically a deer with a wing) carried elves through the air. Massive roc birds transported goods between districts. Magic hummed through the leaves, and sunlight glowed emerald through enchanted canopies.
Elvandar wasn't just green—it was aggressively green.
Clean energy, clean magic, clean souls.
No meat. No alcohol.
And as expected from vegans in any universe, they think they are better than anyone else.
Their perfection made them an isolated kingdom, simply because no one else could survive the constant lectures. But other nations won't dare to openly go against the Elvandars, since not only are they the masters of beauty cares and anti-aging, they are also the masters of environmental warfare.
Inside the gleaming white palace built around Yggdrasil's trunk, the elven leadership gathers around a mana-comm crystal:
· The beautiful elf Queen, Thessalia Ulmaris
· The handsome Grand Druid, Vulred Neremin
· The equally handsome Grand Magus, Paerith Elkhazel
· Several Great Druids and Archmages, all angelic in appearance
A sweating technician crouches beside the mana-comm, surrounded by bubble wrap and an open box. He held an iPod in one hand, instructions in the other.
"Let's see… scroll until I find the Bluetooth setting…" he mutters.
"How much longer?" Queen Thessalia asks, her beauty so radiant it somehow increases the technician's panic sweats.
"Y-Yes, my queen, I'm still trying to activate it."
The Grand Druid wrinkles his perfect nose. "Ugh, a demonic device in our sacred halls…"
"At least it's better than letting an actual demon set foot inside," the Grand Magus replied. "Though I sense no mana from the device."
After rejecting Murica's offer to help set it up—because obviously no demon was allowed inside Elvandar—the technician finally succeeded.
"Bluetooth connected… done. I think… I think it's ready, my queen."
Instantly, the druids and magi cast a shimmering protective barrier, protecting the queen from any potential demon trickery. The technician, notably, is not included in that consideration.
Queen Thessalia gestures. "Turn it on."
Gulping, he presses the sideways triangle button.
The crystal flickered. Music played.
A triumphant fanfare—Hail to the Chief sounds alike—plays as Solo appears in the projection.
"Greetings, leaders of Elvandar. I am Alex Solomon, Prime Minister of United Kingdom of Murica. "
The elves straighten.
"That's the demon leader other than the Demon King?" the queen asks.
"Yes, your majesty," the Grand Druid replies.
The Grand Druid and Grand Magus dramatically step forward.
"Greetings, Alex Solomon! I am Elvandar Gand Druid, Vulred Neremin."
"And I am Elvandar Grand Magus, Paerith Elkhazel."
"We present to you the Queen of Elvandar."
"Protector of the Elf"
"Keeper of the great tree of life Yggdrasil"
"Thessalia the Third"
The technician panicked and hit pause.
"Umm... excuse me, sires, my queen…" The technician reads the manuals and scratches his head. "Uhh, this is not a normal mana-comm transmission. This is called a video, a recording... so basically this is just like a letter. With pictures."
Silence.
Elven noble tried desperately to maintain dignity.
The queen cleared her throat.
"T-then carry on… continue that... thing."
The recording resumed, showing peaceful Murican life, and technological marvels.
The elves watched with unfamiliar discomfort.
Hearthguard Cairn, Capital City of Dwargonia
Deep beneath the mighty Tambora Mountains spread Hearthguard Cairn—a sprawling steampunk metropolis illuminated by copper lanterns and magma veins. Steam trains roared through tunnels. Steam automobiles rattled along metal roads. Steamships docked in cavern harbors. Steam airships launched from vast hangars carved into the mountain heights.
The dwarves are the anti-thesis of the elves.
If elves embodied natural elegance, dwarves embodied industrial chaos.
Elves were tall, statuesque, flawless.
Dwarves were short, rugged, and… aesthetically challenged.
Elves cherished trees.
Dwarves cherished chopping trees.
Elves avoided meats and alcohols.
Dwarves throw barbeque party every weekend.
They hated each other—but no one dared provoke Dwargonia, since not only are they the masters of brewery and barbeque, they also the masters of creating fantasy killing machines.
Inside the Grand Fortress, the five clan leaders of the Grand Council watch the same Murican video:
· Clan Silverfist leader, Tubrat Silverfist
· Clan Axebreaker leader, Dwordoug Axebreaker
· Clan Oakenbrew leader, Calgirra Oakenbrew
· Clan Bluespire leader, Nelfilyn Bluespire
· Clan Sandbeards leader, Orroth Sandbeards
Mara, the Murican ambassador, sits in the middle of six dwarven soldiers in armored steam armor—all armed to the teeth. He doesn't seem bothered.
"So," Tubrat grunted, "the demon kingdom is now a mechanical nation like us?"
"Correct, Council Member Silverfist," Mara replied politely.
Dwordoug Axebreaker leaned forward, eyes sharp. "Then answer me—between your machines and ours… which is stronger?"
It was a trap question. Diplomatically unsolvable for anyone but a demon.
Mara smiled. "Ours, of course."
Silence.
Then-
"BUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The council erupted in roaring laughter.
"You've only been mechanical for what-one century?" Nelfilyn cackled.
"Maybe we should test it someday," Orroth snorted.
"HAHAHA! We like your honesty, ambassador," Calgirra said.
Mara bowed slightly. "Thank you."
The Dwarves appreciate bluntness, not flowery diplomacy. Mara fit in perfectly.
"Play the rest of the…" Orroth Sandbeard said. "Whaddya call it? Video."
The recording continued, showing DMZ Village's peaceful coexistence between demons and other races. Jehovah Accusess Civilian demons having a inaudible friendly conversations with convict & prostitutes loving husband & wife.
Then the Vandorian raid begins.
The dwarves lean forward, eyes darkening.
A female Murican soldiers rush in, shouting:
"OH NO! THEY'RE KILLING CIVILIANS! WE HAVE TO STOP THEM!" (Belphy had dubbed this part)
The dwarves grunt approvingly when the Muricans gun down the raiders.
Across Many Kingdoms in Talvaris
Murican diplomatic teams worked tirelessly to deliver the videos to every kingdom they could reach. Royal courts, nobles, generals, and councils watched the horrors of DMZ Village.
Rape. Pillage. Murder.
Not written in reports, but seen in vivid, undeniable detail.
Some turned away. Some vomited. Others trembled with anger.
Then comes the scene of the female soldier crying devastatedly, hugging the body of a dead human child (Belphy insisted to re-shoot this part using professional actors).
Many sniff discreetly.
And when Ivy appeared—a lone human girl fighting for her life—many viewers whispered prayers.
And when the Muricans save her, they cheer.
When the human girl—Ivy Elara—is finally safe under Murican medical care, the room goes silent.
Her voice trembles as she speaks.
"My family were simple farmers… We fled Vandoria's oppression. The demons welcomed us… fed us… sheltered us… Those months were the happiest we'd ever had.
Until the Vandorians came. They killed my parents… They almost killed me… Sniff… if not for the Muricans… HUAAA—"
Her breakdown as she's being comforted by a actor nurse, hits every audience like a punch.
Divine Empire of Celeste, Celestial Palace
Even the Celeste royalty watch the video. Nobles dab at their eyes. Queen Catherine openly weeps. King Gregory pretends to adjust his crown while wiping his tears.
When Duke Pierre's arrogant threats appear on screen, the room stiffens in collective disgust.
"HAHAHAHA! Submit to us, or my army will storm your borders! And trust me—we can be more frightening than you demons!"
Gasps filled the hall. Celeste nobles whispered violently.
By the time Solo delivered his closing message—
"My fellow leaders, as you can see… this tragedy was not started by us… we only want peace and harmony…" But somehow the Vandorians sees that as weakness, and try to take advantage to invade and enslave us. We fight their invasion, and repel them.. But without this video technology, we may not be able to prove our innocence. Now, I hope you can understand a little bit more about us, and willing to hear more… by opening a diplomatic channel with us. Thank you."
The video ends. Debates break out across the room. Many are confused… but most now agree on one thing: The Vandorians are complete assholes.
The summoned hero, Nobuyuki Sora, stands beside the saintess Isabel. She looks devastated by the video.
But Sora is thinking something else entirely. He was confused.
And terrified.
Why are the demons using Earth technology?
Why aren't they the villains?
What does this mean for me?
If demons aren't evil…
Am I even needed as a hero!?
His internal scream echoed louder than anything inside the hall.
"Fuck!"