The sound of a horn echoed through the air, resonating with the weight of a thousand unspoken words.
"Welcome home, Duke," the border soldiers greeted with passionate reverence, their voices rising in unison as the gates slowly creaked open.
As the gates parted, a steady stream of wagons poured into the duchy—each one heavy with the scent of hard-earned victory, filled with soldiers returning home after the grueling war. The air seemed to hum with the presence of warriors, their faces worn and weary, but their spirits lifted by the sight of home.
The Kustoria Duchy, a vast and prosperous estate nestled in the southwest corner of the Anarchy Empire, stood as a beacon of wealth and hard work. With sprawling farmlands and bustling seaways, it thrived on a delicate balance of agriculture and commerce. Its markets, though far from the grandeur of the capital, were alive with the trade of merchants and the cries of buyers—a scene of perpetual motion and prosperity.
Yet, beneath the surface, there were threats that loomed. As a border duchy, Kustoria was constantly besieged by monsters from the wilds and incursions from foreign nations. Worse still, it was bordered by the infamous Forest of Death—an untamed land where few dared to tread. Legend whispered of countless monsters within, their hunger insatiable. And yet, for all its danger, the forest was rumored to hold treasures beyond imagination, treasures that called out to the bravest—and the most foolish.
Amid the bustling city, where life pulsed through the streets, there walked a family—the very heart of Kustoria. A man whose presence seemed to shimmer with authority, a woman whose beauty rivaled the purity of freshly fallen snow, and a young boy who carried the weight of knowledge in his arms. They were the Duke of Kustoria and his family, the rulers of the north.
The Duke, his face a striking reflection of both power and kindness, exuded a quiet strength, his every step carrying the weight of his responsibility. But it was his heart that set him apart—benevolent, compassionate, a man who truly cared for his people and his family. By his side, Duchess Verena—radiant even in her pregnancy—walked with grace, her every movement a testament to the love she shared with her husband. She was soon to give birth to their second child, the joy of their lives, expected to arrive in just five months.
Their firstborn, however, was a different story. A timid boy, quiet and reserved, his passion for books far outweighing any interest in martial prowess. He was the product of a world that demanded strength, yet he was gentle and thoughtful—traits that would either serve him well or become the burdens he carried for a lifetime.
As the family made their way through the streets, merchants rushed forward, eager to offer their goods, their voices filled with the hope of gaining favor with the Duke and Duchess. It was a scene that spoke of the power, the wealth, and the responsibilities that came with their station—a family bound by duty, love, and the ever-looming threats that surrounded them.