Julius studied the woman's face. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes dark pools of memories long buried. Yet, he sensed no deception in her words. She truly believed in what she was saying.
"I need you to tell me," he said, his voice firm but not forceful. "What is this place? What do you mean by 'The Forbidden Throne'?"
The woman hesitated, uncertainty flickering across her face. She bit her lip, as if weighing whether she should speak. Then, finally, she exhaled slowly and began, her voice carrying the weight of centuries.
"A thousand years ago, there existed a kingdom… a grand empire that stood above all others. It was called Solmaria, the Radiant Dominion."
Julius felt a chill crawl down his spine. The name itself carried an ancient, commanding presence.
"Solmaria ruled over dozens of cities," the woman continued, "a nation of unparalleled glory, renowned across the known world. But then… catastrophe struck. A drought unlike any before it descended upon the land. The rivers dried, the crops withered, and despair took root in the hearts of the people."
Julius remained silent, listening intently.
"The aristocracy hoarded what little food and water remained, leaving the common folk to starve. Law and order crumbled. Theft, murder, and chaos became the new reality. The streets ran red with blood."
The woman's fingers trembled as she spoke, as if the weight of these memories still haunted her.
"The king of Solmaria, King Aldric the Everlasting, sought desperately to end the suffering. He turned to faith, leading his people in prayer to the deity they worshipped—Oris, the Bringer of Rain. They offered sacrifices, performed rituals… but the heavens remained silent."
A heavy silence settled between them.
"Then, war erupted. The people, driven to madness by hunger, turned against each other. Even the nobles, who had once stood above the commoners, were not spared."
Julius clenched his fists. He could already sense where this tale was heading.
"It is said," the woman whispered, "that in the midst of this madness, a man came before the king."
Julius raised an eyebrow. "A man?"
"Yes. A priest. No one knew where he came from. He claimed to have the answer—the means to bring back the rain and restore Solmaria to its former glory."
The woman's gaze darkened.
"In desperation, King Aldric agreed to listen."
Julius felt his throat tighten. He could already tell—this was the moment where everything changed.
"The priest taught the king the art of arcane inscriptions—symbols of power that could alter reality itself. He guided the king in gathering rare and mysterious materials—some of which had never been seen before. Artifacts of unknown origin… the blood of beasts that defied nature…"
Julius swallowed hard.
"Strange rites were performed in the royal palace. Spells were etched into the walls, rituals carried out in secrecy. And then… the impossible happened."
The woman's voice became a hushed whisper.
"One night, the palace vanished."
Julius inhaled sharply.
"The entire structure—its halls, its towers, its people—was swallowed by an unseen force. The kingdom descended into further madness. But before the people could comprehend what had happened, they heard his voice."
Julius felt his skin prickle.
"A voice that shook the very air itself. A voice that no one could disobey."
'The drought has ended. Lay down your arms. The kingdom shall rise again.'
"And then…" The woman's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "The sky wept."
Julius's breath hitched as he imagined the scene—after years of suffering, rain finally poured down upon the parched lands. Water filled the streets, the people falling to their knees in worship.
"They believed it to be a miracle," she murmured. "That their king had ascended… that he had become a god."
The woman closed her eyes, her lips trembling as if she could still feel the raindrops on her skin.
Julius, however, felt unease gnawing at him. Something wasn't right.
The rain had returned. The kingdom had been saved. But at what cost?
"What did that priest teach him?" Julius asked. "What kind of power did King Aldric obtain?"
The woman opened her eyes and gazed at him.
"That was the day the world first witnessed magic."
Julius's heartbeat quickened.
"The royal palace never returned, but the king's voice remained. His whispers guided his people, commanding them to rebuild. But there was one difference—the new palace would not be for ordinary people."
She exhaled.
"It would be for the chosen—those who could hear his voice."
The Temple of the Priests was born.
It was within its walls that the first wielders of magic were gathered. And from them, the art of sorcery spread across the world.
But the tale did not end there.
"Ten years passed," the woman said, "and six figures emerged from among the chosen—six kings, six gods in human form."
Julius's blood ran cold.
"You said six?" His voice was cautious. "Not five?"
A strange look crossed the woman's face.
"Yes. Six."
Julius's mouth felt dry.
"Among them was one known as the God of Shadows."
A sudden chill passed through him.
His fingers twitched. "Are you saying… that the God of Shadows was once human?"
The woman chuckled darkly.
"Of course," she said. "His name was Sharon. He was once a mere mortal, but by mastering magic—by reaching the Eighth Circle—he became something beyond human."
Julius blinked.
"The… Eighth Circle?"
She smirked. "You truly know nothing of magic, do you?"
Julius felt a mix of frustration and intrigue.
"The six kings wielded unfathomable power," the woman continued. "They could bring calamity upon the world if they so desired. That is why they were feared—why they were worshipped."
Her expression darkened.
"But soon, whispers began to spread… whispers that the Ascended King would not tolerate others standing beside him."
The kingdom that had been saved… was now divided.
The six kings had once been allies, but distrust grew among them.
Until the day came when the world was shaken.
"They found six bodies," the woman murmured. "The remains of six individuals—each belonging to one of the six factions."
Julius felt a sharp sense of foreboding.
"That moment… that incident shattered everything."
The world was plunged into war once again.
The God of the Sky, enraged by the death of his brother, led his faction against the God of Shadows.
It was a battle that would consume half the kingdom in destruction.
Julius gritted his teeth.
The God of Shadows emerged victorious. But he did not kill his opponent.
"He suspected something," the woman said. "He believed… someone was pulling the strings."
The war ended. But peace was fleeting.
One day, Sharon gathered his most trusted followers and told them:
"If I do not return… run."
Julius's fingers curled into fists.
Sharon never returned.
Neither did the other kings.
Only one came back—the God of Darkness.
The woman's voice trembled.
"That bastard slaughtered the others."
Tears welled in her eyes.
"I waited a thousand years… and you tell me… my lord is dead?"
Julius could only stare at her.
A thousand years of waiting… all for nothing?
His gaze shifted to the statues behind him.
Once, they had been legends.
Now… they were nothing more than corpses.
His chest tightened.
Why had they chosen him?
Suddenly—
A pulse ran through his palm.
A whisper echoed in his mind.
"You are the key. You are the chosen."