Starfall Year 833, Morning on the 17th of April.
This was a dark day for mages who serve the Empire.
Because their incomparably majestic Emperor was upset.
Very, very upset.
Within the three magical fortresses at the outer perimeter of the Triplet Mountains, dimensional ripples from teleportation spells were appearing seemingly without end. Within the duration for the commoner's breakfast, hundreds of warp portals had opened—in the blink of an eye, countless spellcasters donned in long robes and wearing fatigued expressions flooded the streets in the Imperial Capital.
They were all mages loyal to the Empire, rushing here from all corners of the world. Amongst them were observers of the South Sea draconic plague, explorers who venture deep into the Dark Forest, researchers who nestled within laboratories and even quite a few mages attached to the Southern fortifications.
