Vanuary 2, 1849 — Kingdom of De La Liberté
The grand golden doors of the throne room creaked open with ceremony. Every royal guard lining the marble hall stood to attention, raising their weapons in salute as a cloaked figure stepped inside. His boots echoed with every measured stride.
The princess of the Kingdom of De La Liberté awaited him at the far end, her gown flowing like silver smoke. Her eyes lit up the moment she recognized the visitor.
"Welcome back, Sir Alexander Schneizel," she said with a small, knowing smile.
Alexander Schneizel, one of the kingdom's most elite spies, lowered himself into a graceful bow. Half-human, half-demon, he was feared by enemies and whispered about in shadowed halls. His red eyes shimmered with an otherworldly glow as he rose.
"Your Majesty," he said, voice calm but powerful. "It is a pleasure to see you again."
"How fares your espionage in the Kingdom of Man?" she asked, curiosity woven into her royal tone.
Alexander's expression shifted. "Forgive me, Princess, but most of what I've uncovered is for the king's ears only. The mission is… delicate."
The princess nodded, but he continued—unable to hide all that he'd experienced.
"The Kingdom of Man is a land steeped in greed, corruption, and senseless death. While I carried out my mission, I was ambushed by a group of bandits—filthy racists, angered by my bloodline. They tried to rob me, to end me. I fought with all my strength… but they were many."
He paused, his voice lowering.
"I was nearly defeated. And then—unexpectedly—a human stepped in. Alone, he fought beside me. He didn't care that I was half-demon. He just… helped."
The princess's eyes widened slightly. "A human did this?"
Alexander nodded. "Yes. A rare kind, indeed."
He straightened his posture.
"Oh—and one more thing. The war between Germania and Friedstein… it's over."
The princess gasped. "Already?"
Alexander smiled faintly. "Yes. And things are only just beginning."
Before she could ask more, a royal guard stepped forward, saluting.
"Your Highness, the King requests Sir Alexander's presence in the war chamber. The royal council has convened."
The princess gave Alexander a subtle nod. "Go. But promise me something."
He turned to her. "Anything, Princess."
"Tell me more about that human… later."
With a faint smirk, he bowed once more and followed the guard through a hidden passage behind the throne. Torches flickered along the stone walls as they descended into the War Chamber, deep beneath the castle.
Inside, the king sat at the head of a long obsidian table. His crown gleamed with sapphire, but his face was drawn—older than it had looked just a year ago.
"Alexander, welcome back," the king greeted, his voice low but eager. There was a hunger in it—not for food or wine, but for information, for truth.
"Your Majesty." Alexander dropped into a respectful bow.
"Stand," the king said, waving his hand. "Now tell me. How fares your espionage in the Kingdoms of Man?"
Alexander stood tall. "Your Majesty, after two years of brutal warfare, the Germanians emerged victorious over Friedstein. Their legions crushed Friedstein's forces and seized much of their territory. What remains of Friedstein has been reduced to a narrow buffer state—one caught between the reach of Germania and the looming threat of Ruskovia."
The king leaned forward, hands steepled. "So the war is over… but peace is not guaranteed."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Alexander said grimly. "The Germanians have established their hegemony over the continent. With their newly developed artillery—far beyond anything we've seen—they shattered the once-impregnable Wall of Grazia. A symbol of Friedstein's strength… now reduced to rubble."
The room fell silent for a beat.
"And after their victory," Alexander continued, "they proclaimed themselves the one who will lead the bellum terra and established their military might on par with Romanum and ruskovia. L It now stands alongside the great powers of Bellum Terra: Romania, Ruskovia, Brivania."
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the council. One advisor cursed under his breath.
"They've redrawn the map," said the king, his voice heavy. "Not with ink, but blood."
Alexander nodded. "And they're not finished. Their influence spreads like wildfire. Small kingdoms bend the knee without a fight. Those who resist disappear."
"And Romanum? Ruskovia?" asked Advisor Montclair, his voice edged with worry.
Alexander turned his gaze toward him, his tone growing colder. "As for Romanum… they're scheming. Movements have been reported near our borders—new fortifications, unexplained supply convoys, and covert meetings with mercenary groups from the Southern Wastes."
He looked back to the king.
"Whatever they're planning, it isn't peace, Your Majesty. They're preparing for something—something big. Perhaps war. Perhaps worse."
The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling like fog over the table.
"And Ruskovia?" the king asked, his voice quieter now.
"They're watching," Alexander replied. "Patient as always, like a wolf circling a wounded deer. They haven't made a move yet, but their armies are on high alert. Their diplomats suddenly silent. They're waiting to see who strikes first… Romania or Germania."
The king's fingers tapped the table. "So we're surrounded by blades, and the air is thick with smoke."
Alexander nodded. "Exactly. Bellum Terra is on the edge, Your Majesty. And the smallest spark could burn it all down."
"Whatever their plans are, it is surely against us," the king muttered. "If the Romanum declare war, it will ignite a new conflict—one we cannot afford. We're still not in good standing with the humans. They continue to call us demons, to fear and reject us. If another war breaks out between our kind and theirs, it could be the final straw. The Kingdoms of Man may unite against us."
"Exactly, Your Majesty," Alexander said, his voice steady but grim. "I fear that day is coming—and we must be ready for it. If we wait until war reaches our gates, it will be too late."
"I will consider your counsel, Alexander," the king said, voice heavy with thought. "For now… you may rest."
"Yes, Your Grace." Alexander bowed low, then turned and exited the chamber, his cloak trailing behind him like a shadow fading into torchlight.