The kingdom of Avalor was in crisis. Strange monsters had begun appearing without warning—feral creatures that could only be slain by severing their heads. As a neighboring ally, El Estonia could not stand idly by. And so, King Arthur himself, the revered yet enigmatic ruler, set out with his elite guards to aid Avalor.

The journey was swift. Urgency crackled in the air like an impending storm. But nothing could have prepared them for the sight that greeted them upon arrival.

The battlefield was littered with the remains of the monsters—silent proof of a one-sided slaughter. Yet, not a single knight of Avalor was in sight. Instead, at the heart of the carnage stood a lone figure, bathed in the crimson light of dusk.

A woman.

She moved with a deadly grace, her sword flashing like silver lightning as she cut down the final beast. With a swift, precise motion, its severed head hit the ground. Silence followed—thick, absolute.

Arthur, ever composed, found himself frozen in place. His men, trained warriors who had seen countless battles, whispered among themselves in disbelief. A woman warrior? In this era? It was unheard of.

The veiled woman turned slightly, her weapon still dripping with blackened blood. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension. Arthur, for once in his life, was at a loss for words.

Then, before he even realized it, his voice—soft yet unyielding—broke the silence.

"Miss...?"

A question. A curiosity.

And, perhaps, the start of something neither of them expected.