Karnada was a small state located between two empires—Ordius and Malif.

You couldn't remember what your home looked like, your parents, or your name. All these memories had faded with time.

The Malif Empire had once been powerful, but with the advent of Malftu, all resources were depleted so much that the fertile lands became stale, turning into bare desert. And, unfortunately for all the inhabitants of Karnada, he had the power to declare war. Did the locals and the army have anything to fight back with? Of course not.

Karnada was like a nail on a little finger: everyone was crushed by sheer force, not by force, and then the unwanted were killed, enslaving the rest.

In Malif, laws are just useless words, dust beneath the emperor's feet.

You experienced savage hunger, thirst, and pain in your seven years. You beat everyone and spared no one. Mercy is alien to trash like you. Your name no longer mattered, nor did family ties.

Over time, everyone forgot how to speak, crawled along the ground like animals, afraid to make a sound.

People stopped burying people long ago: there was never room for graves; everyone was thrown into common piles and taken closer to the border, their remains unloaded like rag dolls.

You spent fifteen years in fear, working in the mine, pumping the last resources out of the caves.

You wanted to run. But where? You had no home, nothing and no one else, you were so thin that it seemed a strong wind could blow you away. But still, there was hope.

You picked up a small stone, carried it to the pile, and, throwing it there, fell unconscious. Or rather, you pretended to be dead.

You, like everyone else, were taken away in a common cart, dumped in the pile, and left. You waited an hour, maybe even more, and barely managed to get out and cross the border, heading for the Ordius Empire.

You walked at random, eating dry sticks, and sometimes even sand when things got really bad. It took you two days to cross another border.

It was quiet all around, too quiet. And then, for the first time in your life, you saw snow. You didn't know what it was, but your fingers moved faster. Water. Cold and completely different. You greedily filled your stomach with it and continued to slowly move forward.

A storm was brewing, and so, two hours later, you were crawling through snowdrifts. You weren't at all afraid of dying here. It was better here than there.

Sounds reached your ears. You slowly rose to all fours and hid behind the nearest snowdrift.

An expeditionary group rode on horseback, led by him—Duke Antara Eibis. His cold blue eyes caught a glimpse of an emaciated human figure, shivering from the bitter cold.

"Who's that? A human?" the man asked himself, motioning with his finger for his men to advance.