In a vast plain, devoid of towering trees and dominated by grass, low shrubs, and the ruins of once-magnificent palaces and cities, a campfire burned quietly. Seated by its warmth were two figures. The first was a small woman, her body appearing as if carved from aged wood, her features grotesque and unsettling, with glowing green eyes that exuded an eerie intensity. She resembled a creature of the forest more than a human. Opposite her sat a towering man, his massive frame clad entirely in intricately forged metal armor. His face was obscured by a perfectly fitted helmet, and at his side rested an enormous two-handed sword, its weight and size a testament to the strength required to wield it. “Have you heard of the Golden King?” the woman asked, her voice raspy and chilling. “The Golden King? Do you mean the Emperor?” the man responded, his gaze briefly shifting from the blade he had been carefully polishing. The woman let out a laughter that sent a shiver down the spine. “Yes, they are one and the same. But the title of ‘Golden King’ predates his reign as Emperor,” she replied, scratching her wooden temple with her claw-like fingers. “Wasn’t he the one who ruled this world but was eventually imprisoned in the Realm of Darkness alongside countless dark deities?” the man asked. “Let me share with you a story I uncovered in the ruins of an ancient palace,” the woman said. “Enlighten me, witch,” the man replied, his tone tinged with a mix of curiosity and amusement as he continued tending to his weapon. The woman’s laughter softened, the sinister undertone replaced by an air of solemnity. “The tale begins in an era before time itself, when the Emperor was known as the Golden King. He was the ruler of countless worlds, an architect of reality who arranged the realms into nine rings and decreed the cessation of new creations.” “That sounds like common lore,” the man interjected. The witch’s unsettling face stretched into a smile, her expression betraying a deeper truth. “Indeed, but the details beyond the surface reveal a greater depth. According to the stories, the Golden King was a being of immeasurable power, though I am certain even his strength had its boundaries.” She sighed, effortlessly lifting the man’s colossal sword. “The Golden King ruled for untold eons, until the day he made an unthinkable decision—to end his reign.” “End his reign? What do you mean by that?” the man asked, his eyes narrowing as he observed her wield the weapon with surprising ease. “He transformed his immense body into a world—a new creation with himself at its core, where he entered a deep slumber,” she explained. “Are you saying the Golden King turned himself into an entire world?” the man exclaimed, astonishment etched on his face. “Indeed, our world. From his blood and flesh, life emerged—beings resembling him yet disconnected from him. Ages passed until he was reborn, not as the omnipotent entity he once was, but as a mortal. He awoke as Orain, a boy filled with dreams of greatness, oblivious to his true identity. His only memories were of love and longing, particularly for his mother, who had vanished.” The woman’s gaze shifted toward a distant, needle-like mountain piercing the heavens. “With the Golden King’s disappearance—the cornerstone of balance in this world—darkness surged forth. The dark gods were born, consuming everything in their path. Orain, a curious and naive child, matured over time. He eventually rose to power, toppling the tyrant who had ruled his world for decades and becoming Emperor.” “And wasn’t he betrayed by his own people?” the man asked, leaning closer. “That is not the full story. Orain ruled for decades, defeating the dark gods alongside his loyal army. He married, had three children, and for a time, experienced peace and happiness,” she said, her voice tinged with melancholy. “But that happiness was fleeting. A surviving member of the tyrant’s family opened a gateway to the Realm of Darkness, imprisoning Orain and unleashing destruction.” “Destruction?” the man repeated. “Yes. This survivor released a poison that decimated the population. Those who were immune were slaughtered indiscriminately, allies and enemies alike, in a campaign to obliterate Orain’s empire. Two of his children perished, and his lineage was driven to the brink of extinction,” she explained, her gaze lingering on the ruins of a golden tower. “So that was the end of the Golden King,” the man said with a heavy sigh. “A tragic conclusion.” The witch offered a faint smile. “Perhaps. But the Golden King is not truly gone. He remains alive, slumbering in the heart of the planet.” “Then nothing has changed for the Golden King?” the man asked. The witch laughed—a haunting, echoing sound that filled the night air. “Nothing at all,” she replied, her laughter fading as her gaze turned to the man, who resumed polishing his sword in silence. “But one of his children still lives,” she added. “How did Orain’s children die?” the man asked. “I do not know the full details. However, we encountered the remains of one not long ago,” she said. “Wait, what?!” the man exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Did you not notice the massive armored statue with its head severed?” she asked. “That statue… was one of Orain’s children?! It was enormous!” “Yes, and there exists one even larger,” she replied calmly. “Like Monarch, the great giant?” the man ventured. “Yes, Monarch was one of the Emperor’s giants,” she confirmed. The witch’s voice softened as she continued, “Orain is gone, yet the Golden King endures. Centuries have passed, and the lifeless bodies of his soldiers still rest where they fell. The corpses of his giants remain motionless, like relics of a forgotten age. But one of his children persists.” The man removed his helmet, revealing a pale, scarred face. One of his eyes burned crimson, while the other was concealed beneath a covering. His hair and beard were stark white. “Every time I sit with you, I feel like a child,” he said, his lips curving into a faint smile. The witch reached out, patting his head gently. “To me, you are all but children,” she said with a soft laugh. Together, they sat in contemplative silence, their eyes fixed on the night sky, its expanse adorned with countless stars and a brilliant, luminous moon.