(Kaienreki Year 1505, December 30th)
Deep in the New World, where towering frost-covered trees and snow-clad mountains stood defiant against the elements, lay an island shrouded in ice and legend. It was called Winter's Maw. Comparable in size to Wano, it was a land of brutal winters and near-endless snowstorms.
For millennia, it had been divided among warring houses, each vying for dominance. The weak perished, their names lost to time. Only the strongest endured, their legacies carved into the frozen stone of history. The age of strife, known as The Mythic Era, lasted for nearly 5,000 years. Then, in the first year of the Kaienreki Calendar, one house rose above all others.
House Stark.
By the decree of the first King of Winter, Brandon Stark I, the island was divided into seven regions: The Frozen Throne at its heart, surrounded by the Northwind Peaks, the Frozen Vale, the Frost Coast, the Ice Glades, Glacier's End, and the Snowdrift Hearth. Each was ruled by loyal vassals sworn to the Starks. But beyond these lands, chaos reigned—pirates and outcasts roamed the smaller isles, rejecting the authority of the Winter King.
Now, within the cold stone walls of the royal fortress, battle raged.
"PROTECT THE ROYAL FAMILY! ALLOW NONE OF THESE SO-CALLED HOLY KNIGHTS EVEN AN INCH OF GROUND!" The cry echoed through the corridors as the Frost-Bound Wardens clashed with the invaders.
"STAND FAST! EVEN IF HARM BEFALLS ME, WE MUST ENSURE THE ESCAPE OF MY WIFE AND CHILDREN!" The deep, commanding voice belonged to King Eddric Stark, his blade cutting through enemy ranks with lethal precision.
"My King, you're still wounded from the pirate siege! If you engage their chief alone, you won't last long enough to buy time. Allow me to fight in your stead!" pleaded Brynjar Iceheart, his most loyal Warden.
Eddric turned to him, eyes as cold as the land they ruled. "Brynjar, even if I escape, I will not survive this wound. I choose to die with honor, defending my family." A small, tired smile crossed his face. "Fight with me one last time. Side by side."
Brynjar bowed his head. "Then let us make our final stand worthy of song, my King."
And so, they charged.
The battle would shake the very foundations of Winter's Maw. Its aftermath would be spoken of in whispers, buried beneath the weight of history. The truth, however, was undeniable.
The King of Winter had fallen.
The Frozen Throne had shattered.