There are three continents in the world: Kaelindor, Calonia, and Aerthysia. In the Kaelindor continent, there are four types of living beings other than the monsters and the animals.
All of the living beings in this continent have the third gender: alpha, omega, and beta. In social hierarchies, alphas are the dominant, high-ranking individuals who possess power, authority, and influence. They often lead the group and make key decisions. Alphas tend to be confident, assertive, and able to exert their will over others.
Omegas, on the other hand, are the lowest-ranking members of the group. They possess little power or influence and may be marginalized or overlooked. Omegas are typically submissive, passive, and deferential to the alphas.
Betas are the intermediaries in the hierarchy. They are not the absolute leaders, but they hold a respectable position and often assist the alphas. Betas may have some authority and influence, but they ultimately answer to the alphas. They serve as a bridge between the top and bottom tiers of the social structure.
And besides that, in the Kaelindor Continent, there are four types of humans or humanoids: the werewolves, strong in physique and with excellent swordsmanship.
In the werewolf race, alphas demand unwavering obedience, omegas suffer endless subjugation, and betas must deal with the delicate balance of power. This complicated social order is at the core of the werewolf role, shaping the very fabric of their society and the challenges faced by those who dare to defy their destined roles.
The werewolf is a proud race with their strong aura of swordsmanship and their perfect humanoid physique. Different from the beast race, the werewolf who can't shift into a perfect humanoid figure is called a lycanthrope. They're living with the other beastman and have a strong physique, stronger than the werewolf race.
The beastman race is a unique and fascinating one, filled with fierce warrior spirits that transcend the traditional alpha-beta-omega hierarchy. Unlike the werewolves, where these designations denote a rigid social structure, the beastman people embody a more fluid and egalitarian dynamic.
At a glance, one might assume the beastmen would adhere to a similar pack mentality, with alphas, omegas, and betas vying for dominance. But the reality is far more nuanced. Within the beastman culture, there are no predetermined roles or stations—each individual is valued for their strength, skill, and contribution to the collective.
The role between alphas, omegas, and betas takes on a whole new view with the demon race. Unlike the egalitarian beastmen or the hierarchical werewolves, the demons operate under a much more ruthless and cutthroat system—one where power and magic reign supreme, regardless of traditional designations.
While the other races may rely on physical prowess or social status, the demons possess a cunning intelligence and formidable magical abilities that set them apart. Their adeptness in swordsmanship and mastery of arcane auras make them truly formidable opponents, capable of wielding devastating power.
However, the demons' one weakness lies in their comparatively frail physiques. They may not possess the raw strength of the beastmen or the sheer ferocity of the werewolves, but they more than make up for it with their tactical brilliance and arcane might.
The adage 'the strong devour the weak' is applicable in the demon realm, irrespective of one's status as an alpha, omega, or beta. A powerful omega demon, for instance, may well be capable of leading a fearsome army or even slaying a supposedly superior alpha. For the demons, it is not social status or lineage that determines one's worth, but the individual's mastery of magic and the ruthlessness with which they wield it.
The last and most enigmatic of the races inhabiting this continent are the mixed bloods—a people shunned and despised by the others, yet possessing a power that makes them both revered and feared.
Unlike the singular, pure-blooded races, the mixed bloods are born with the combined might of their progenitors' legacies. They wield the raw strength of the beastmen, the cunning sorcery of the demons, and the primal ferocity of the werewolves—all without the inherent weaknesses that plague their single-race counterparts.
This duality is both a blessing and a curse for the mixed bloods, for they are viewed with a mixture of awe and revulsion by the other races. Many are killed at birth, their nascent power deemed too dangerous to be allowed to flourish. Those who do survive often perish young, unable to live in the treacherous world that seeks to snuff them out.
Yet, in the Grand Duchy of Borgia, a sovereign nation within the greater Erengrad Empire, the mixed bloods have found a refuge. Here, under the rule of the Grand Duke Roxanne de Borgia, they are able to thrive and cultivate their lives to have a family and live without being scared someone is going to kill them.
Roxanne herself is the most powerful mixed blood ever born, her veins coursing with the blood of both werewolf and demon. A ruthless and calculating ruler of the North, she has forged the Grand Duchy into a formidable bastion where the mixed-bloods can live without the constant threat of persecution.
The Grand Duchy of Borgia, with its mixed-blood ruler and its sanctuary for the reviled, is a place that even the mighty Emperor of Erengrad regards with unease. This northern realm, a veritable fortress of arcane power, casts a long shadow over the ambitions of the imperial throne.
The North is a harsh, unyielding land, where the capricious whims of nature make the cultivation of crops a constant struggle. Winter's icy grip persists throughout the region, making the soil uninhabitable for all but the most resilient plant life. Yet, in the face of this adversity, the Grand Duchy has found its own sources of wealth and prosperity.
Beneath the frozen earth, the North teems with a bounty of minerals, gems, and precious ores—resources that are eagerly traded with the prosperous southern realms in exchange for the abundant agricultural yields of the warmer climes. This symbiotic relationship has allowed the Grand Duchy to thrive, even as its neighbors grapple with the challenges of the unforgiving northern climate.
But the true riches of Borgia lie not only in its mineral wealth but also in the bounty of the monstrous creatures that roam the vast, untamed wilderness. The leathers, bones, and even the very blood of these fearsome beasts are highly prized commodities, coveted by the noble elite and the alchemical masters of the demon race alike.
The skillful processing and distribution of these monstrous byproducts have become a cornerstone of the Grand Duchy's economy, providing sustenance and essential materials to its people while also generating a steady stream of revenue from the south.
"You're wealthy beyond measure, but you still need a mate, Your Highness," Roxanne's assistant informed, a hint of hesitation in his voice.
Roxanne's brow furrowed, annoyance bubbling to the surface. "What kind of mate are you suggesting?" She snapped.
"The Rothschild family has two young and beautiful omega daughters," he replied, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "One of them might be suitable for you. In fact, the Emperor himself has recommended them for your consideration."
Roxanne's lips curled into a sardonic smile, her emerald eyes flashing with skepticism. "Another spy to be planted in my house, is that it?" She retorted, her voice dripped with sarcasm. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms defiantly. Roxanne had no intention of letting anyone manipulate her, not even through the guise of affection.
"Your Highness," the assistant pressed on, undeterred by her biting words, "you must understand that you need a mate before you reach thirty. Without a partner, your power will not be stabilized, and then who will lead the Grand Duchy if you're gone? The other races would seize the opportunity to strip us of everything we've built. The stability of our freedom depends on your mating."
Roxanne gritted her teeth, aware that her assistant spoke a painful truth. The weight of her responsibilities pressed heavily upon her shoulders, and the fierce independence she cherished was at odds with the harsh realities of leadership. The Grand Duchy could not afford to falter; it was a sanctuary for the mixed-bloods, a beacon in a world that despised them.
With a resigned sigh, she straightened her posture. "Fine," she relented, "fetch me a piece of parchment. I will write to Count Rotschild."