"They have arrived."

"Yes..." muttered the man wearing a Gold Crown adorned with gemstones, narrowing his eyes. His pale blue gaze squinted as, from afar, three horse riders appeared. "I've seen them."

The man with long black hair, whose wide eyes shared the same iris color as the crown-wearer, shook his head to move a few strands of hair away from his face. When the side of his face, previously hidden by his long locks, became visible, a circular symbol could be seen in his left eye. He responded to the crown-wearer's words, "I'm doubtful about this."

"The one we're facing is Iris," said another figure to the left of the crown-wearer. His bald head and narrow eyes, almost closed, were barely open. "Along with Tarith and Shard. They are kings and a queen." 

"And we are more than that. If they are kings and queen, don't ever forget that we are the ones who made those kings and queen. Why should we fear them?" 

The long-haired man with the circular symbol in his left eye didn't seem to agree, his eyebrows furrowed deeply in disapproval. "Don't forget that Iris has an artifact." 

"Tarith and Shard are no different. They are even pure Star Clan. Their level is not beneath ours," the bald man continued. 

The crown-wearing man didn't want to respond to the two any further. He chose to lean back in his chair, resting his chin on his hand. A disdainful expression spread across his pale face, while the other two appeared restless. 

Everything seemed bleak, as gloomy as the cloud masses in the sky, which never brightened. Such was the environment surrounding the Florence Tree, also known as the Tree of Life. Some even called it the World's Core, the Divine Tree, the Thousand-Branch Tree, the Bottomless Tree, the Anchor Tree, and many other names. 

Around the Florence Tree was a vast lake that encircled it. Under the shade of this massive tree, these three figures stood: a crown-wearer, a giant, and a narrow-eyed bald man.

The three figures known as the "Queen" and "Kings" had arrived at the shores of Florence Lake—the lake encircling the Florence Tree. They pulled on their horses' reins, causing the animals to neigh and rear up on their hind legs. The riders, however, remained calmly seated atop their mounts.

"I can see it," murmured the woman.

She was dressed entirely in black. A long black gown with lace-trimmed sleeves. On the right side of her chest was an intricately embroidered rose petal design. Her body was slender, like most beautiful women. Her face was white, almost pale. Her gaze was sharp, though her eyelids were darkened, adding a sinister and mysterious air to her appearance, yet also elegance. On her head perched a crown, identical in shape to the Gold Crown of the man sitting beneath the Florence Tree. However, her crown was smaller and gleamed white.

The one called Tarith, with his gaunt, menacing face, spoke as he rested his large scythe on his shoulder. "I can see it too. Absolute victory. The throne seat for the Queen."

"The King will soon fall," Shard, an older man with white hair and beard, added. "The Gold Crown is nothing but a fake."

Iris, the name of the woman wearing the White Crown, gently stroked her horse's back before whispering, "Show me the way."

The horse neighed, rearing up and then galloping. Its eyes gleamed with a dim purple light. As its hooves touched the lake's surface, the water immediately froze. Ice spread in all directions, only stopping when the icy surface reached the land beneath the Florence Tree. The three of them crossed the lake on the ice bridge.

"Hello, Iris," the Gold Crown wearer greeted as the trio arrived in front of him. He gave a thin smile.

Iris returned his gaze with a scornful look. "Helen, there's no need for your false greetings."

"What do you want?" Helen asked. He gestured to his two brothers, the long-haired man and the bald one. "Gorakh and Varys will face you if you intend to carry out what you've promised. But I doubt they will lose."

"They will not lose!" cried Tarith, the scythe bearer. "But the Queen will win!"

Thunder rumbled, the dark clouds thickened, and the wind swirled wildly, blowing in every direction—north, south, east, and west—tossing Iris's long hair, which flowed down her back.

"Heh, are you angry?"

Iris's question went unanswered by Helen. Instead, he growled and clenched his fists on the armrests of his chair. "Iris, you were crowned as one of the Queens, even the highest queen. Is this how you act?" he asked after a moment.

Iris laughed, and the sound of thunder intensified, the wind raging violently across the land. This only signaled Helen's growing fury. Tarith and Shard knew it, and Iris knew it even better. The woman glanced at Helen's two brothers, and immediately, they lowered their heads.

"Hm, are these the ones you rely on?" Iris asked, clearly mocking. "Even their weapons aren't strong enough to break my ring."

At that moment, a bolt of lightning struck directly toward Iris's crown. Yet, the black-gowned woman remained firmly in place, sitting gracefully on her snow-white horse, which also remained calm. More than that, a faint smile appeared on her dark red lips.

The lightning shattered, utterly broken. This occurred because a dark shadow, none other than Tarith's scythe, intercepted the bolt, shielding Iris's head as if protecting her.

"Your arrogant lightning is not nearly as impressive as to caress the Queen's crown," Tarith said, pulling back his scythe and resting it on his shoulder. "King, your time is up."

The king's teeth chattered. "Alright, if that's what you want, we'll settle this now!" The King rose from his seat. "Gorakh, Varys, whose side are you on?"

"The Gold Crown!" they answered in unison.

"Then, there is no need for a second crown. Let's destroy them!"

The three lunged forward.

Laughing, Tarith swung his scythe across his chest, summoning snow that immediately froze the blade. Meanwhile, Shard, who had been silent until now, rolled up his sleeves and delivered a single punch to Varys, the narrow-eyed bald man.

And Iris, the White Crown, faced Helen's rage.

She remained calmly seated on her horse. As Helen charged at her, she simply raised her five fingers in front of her. Her hand glowed, her eyes emitted a bright purple light, and the ring on her finger unleashed a dazzling beam that forced Helen to close his eyes for a moment.

"This is last one..." Iris whispered. "Truly, this is the last one."

Accompanied by the tears that had been streaming down her cheeks unnoticed, Iris muttered something.

It left Helen stunned. His pale face turned even paler. The lightning magic he had summoned vanished, replaced by trembling hands and a choked voice. The same happened to his two brothers—they froze in their tracks.

Even Tarith and Shard were astonished.

"This isn't how it's supposed to be!" shouted Tarith in panic. "You're a liar! This isn't how it was supposed to be!" He rushed toward Iris, moving swiftly, but just before his hand could grab hers, a bright light enveloped the Florence Tree, and everything turned white.

After that, the Gold Crown and the White Crown disappeared. The King and the Queen were gone, leaving only six bodies lying still, accompanied by the skeletal remains of their horses. Their eyes were closed, breathless, and the rumbling of thunder ceased. For how long, no one knew. The place was deathly silent. Silent...