The world of Vaelora was once united. But now, only three human kingdoms remain: Azra, Elyndor, and Kaelwyn.
Azra is the strongest of them all. Its army is powerful, its knights are feared, and its influence reaches far beyond its borders.
But even the strength of men means little against the Demon Queen.
She rules the wild lands with a cruel hand, leading an army of deadly creatures. Her beasts include Skyrend Basilisks, Void Lions, Frostbone Hydras, Grim Serpents, and the terrifying Nightcrawlers, who are always hungry.
Smaller creatures—once hunted by both men and monsters—had no choice but to form alliances. Some joined the humans. Not because they liked them, but because they were scared. Like the humans, they were also hunted. Prey for the bigger predators: dragons, oak titans, ember wolves, and the brutal stoneclaw gorillas.
Azra, with its elite warriors and advanced training, quickly became the backbone of human survival. Their knights were unmatched—trained to slay beasts with a single blow. But when the beasts began to drive many creatures to extinction, Azra did something no kingdom had done before. They opened their gates—not to everyone—but to a chosen few.
An academy was built at the heart of Azra, its purpose clear: to train other non-human races—elves, dwarves, beastfolk, orcs, and lycan-born—races strong enough to fight beside humans. Together, they would become the last wall between the Demon Queen and total destruction.
The new recruits were trained to master their abilities—some became mages, others knights, healers, summoners, berserkers, or shadow weavers. For hundreds of years, Azra was never defeated. What scared the Demon Queen the most wasn't just the alliance—it was the royal bloodline of Azra's kings. They were blessed by the universe itself, gifted with powers strong enough to push back every attack and win every battle.
The Demon Queen ruled the Beastlands, a place no human or weak creature could survive. The air alone was poisonous to them. So Azra didn't try to invade—it stayed on the defensive, standing firm, and waiting for the right moment.
To the beasts, humans were food. Eating one made them live longer and grow stronger. But for the smaller creatures, killing a legendary beast gave them a rush of mana—the energy that powered all skills and strength. Still, mana wasn't endless. It could run out and only refilled slowly with rest. And even then, it wouldn't grow stronger unless more was earned—by fighting, or by killing.
Just like beasts, humans could absorb mana too. But to grow stronger, they had to kill others with more mana—friend or enemy. It was a cruel cycle where the strong fed on the weak.
Azra didn't just let anyone in. Every ten years, they opened their gates—not for safety, but for war. Only a few outsiders were chosen. Those who were picked got a spot in a training ward and a chance to enter the academy. But first, they had to survive a series of deadly trials. Only the ones who made it through were called students.
Training lasted five tough years. Most didn't survive. This academy wasn't some regular school—it was a battlefield. Its purpose? To shape the strongest warriors to fight the Demon Queen and the beasts that hunted them.
The king of Azra had seven sons. Six were born with great powers, inheritors of the bloodline's gift. Their children, too, would carry this strength. But the seventh son, the youngest, was born with nothing—no gift, no skill, no magic. In a kingdom where power meant purpose, he was considered a shadow of his brothers.
Still, the Demon Queen feared all seven. Because even the weakest bloodline had the potential to rise. And she would stop at nothing—nothing—to end the royal bloodline of Azra and bring all kingdoms under her rule.
A council meeting was going on inside the Obsidian Hall, in the Demon Queen's palace. Dark flames burned from twisted torches on the walls, throwing strange shadows over the huge, fearsome creatures sitting around a large stone table. These were the leaders of legendary beasts—each one strong enough to destroy an entire kingdom alone.
Kaerthar the Inferno Maw, General of the Dragon Clan, stepped forward.
"My Queen," he said in a low, rough voice, giving a slight bow. "The academy is about to start recruiting again. If we let them keep training new warriors, our kind will suffer. Our prey is growing too bold. Their numbers keep rising, even though we've devoured so many. And every hunt now costs us more of our own."
"Of course they're bold," hissed a voice from the shadows. It was Slythis, the General of the Grim Serpents. "Azra still stands. As long as that cursed kingdom exists, they think they still have a chance."
"They've lasted long enough," grunted another. Varnok, the Nightcrawler General. "I killed over a hundred of them in Fangroot Forest, and they still kept coming—like they had no fear. A few escaped… only because one of Azra's princes showed up and saved them."
"Enough about those princes," snapped a cold, sharp voice. It belonged to Morvena, the Blood Widow—a spider-like general feared for her cruelty. "I've eaten many before. This bloodline will be no different."
"They rely on numbers," another voice said darkly. "Kill them all—and Azra will finally fall."
The Demon Queen, Velmora, sat quietly on her throne. Her long black robes flowed around her like shadows coming to life. She didn't flinch or frown, even as her generals argued loudly she was calmly observing them, she knew quite well where the fear was coming from. Then, after a long silence, she spoke her voice calm, cold, and steady.
"Stop worrying about Azra's warriors," she said. "Yes, they're picky about who gets into their academy. But I've found a new way in."
The generals all turned to look at her, confused.
"I'm sending my four daughters into the academy," Velmora said. "They will hunt down the princes… and kill them, one by one."
Kaerthar, the Dragon General, stepped forward, shaking his head. "That can't work, my Queen. Even if we disguise ourselves as humans, Azra's barrier magic will detect us. Any creature with strong mana is instantly sensed. And even if we lower our power, the mana we carry can't be hidden."
Velmora's lips curled into a cold smile. "I've already planned for this. I've created a perfect spell—one that won't just weaken them, but will hide their mana completely. It only works when they choose to use it, and it leaves no trace behind."
"They'll blend in," she said. "Live among the humans and non-humans at the academy. No one will suspect them. And once they've wiped out the royal bloodline of Azra's king, we'll strike. The kingdom will fall… and we will feast."
She lifted her hand and called out the names.
"Selene. Nyra. Vaelith. Zeraya."
Four shadowy figures stepped forward, silent and still.
"You know what to do," Velmora said. "Azra must fall. Use every weapon you have—charm the princes, gain their trust, uncover their secrets… then destroy every last heir."
The four daughters bowed low, eyes glowing with deadly purpose.
"Yes, Mother," they said together.