Imperial Capital City Mordheim.

Imperial Palace.

Inside the Throne Room.

Queen Celestia sat upon her throne, a vision of ethereal grace and quiet power. The throne was majestic, made of gold with beautiful carvings along its surface.

The throne room shimmered beneath the warm glow of enchanted chandeliers, their soft light dancing across marble floors and towering pillars adorned with golden vines.

Her gown flowed like liquid starlight, woven from silken threads that shifted between silver and soft moon-white. Intricate patterns, ancient symbols of divinity and sovereignty—glimmered faintly along the fabric, as if they held whispers of forgotten magic. A delicate crown rested atop her silver hair, every jewel capturing the light like stars gathered in a circlet.

The crown that she hadn't worn when meeting her daughter, but when sitting on her throne, she always wore it.

Celestia's posture was serene, regal, and unshakably composed. Her crimson eyes held a calm authority, observing her court with the kind of gaze that made even the proudest noble lower their head.

She was waiting for someone.

The door of the throne room slid open. A middle-aged man with a straight posture walked inside with pride.

His eyes were clear blue, holding confidence and experience. Short black hair neatly combed.

He wore a refined suit of deep navy-blue silk, tailored to perfection, with silver embroidery tracing regal patterns along the collar and cuffs.

A crisp white shirt, a jeweled brooch at the chest, and polished boots completed the dignified, aristocratic look.

He strode closer to the throne stairs, then kneeled. His head lowered in respect.

"I greet you, Your Majesty," he greeted her—simple yet respectful.

"Rise, Galahad Valliant," Celestia said with an authoritative voice.

Galahad stood again on his feet.

"Your Majesty, you summoned me. Give me your orders. What do I need to do?" He didn't beat around the bush and asked directly.

If Queen Celestia had called him to meet her as soon as possible, it meant it was no small matter.

Celestia remained silent for a moment.

"Galahad. Demons have started to explore the Grave of the Celestial Tree in an attempt to conquer it. We know it is impossible, but still, we cannot let them do it. You already know the reason. That place is too important. We cannot let it fall into anyone's hands."

He listened calmly. His blue eyes flickered with understanding.

"I know, Your Majesty. So what do you wish to do about it?"

Celestia gazed at him with the same authority.

"Deploy forces to Pārijātavana. The soldiers and resources are ready. You can check them. I believe in you. You may make changes if you want, but I need you to leave as fast as possible."

She leaned forward.

"And I want you to not let them succeed. They have been a nuisance to us for eras. Kill every one of them. Also, if possible, you may try to explore. But keep in mind—no matter what happens, don't ever go near the center of that island."

Celestia's gaze did not waver. The throne room hummed with quiet expectation as the two stood in the pool of candlelight.

"Galahad," she continued, voice low and precise,

"that place is not normal. The beasts there behave differently than normal. They possess mysterious powers. Keep that in mind. Do not go for unnecessary fights."

The ancient place was filled with unknown dangers. Many areas remained unexplored. Queen Celestia, who was Mythborn rank, could not enter that place.

So Galahad was the best option to go—one of the strongest men, at Mystic Sovereign rank, with amazing military leadership skills. Also, he was one of her most trusted people.

Galahad's jaw tightened. "Understood, Your Majesty. I will prepare my vanguards. I'll place mages with sanctification training alongside the infantry. We cannot treat them as a conventional army."

Celestia inclined her head. "Good. Once you go there, send scouts first. Small, swift units to verify their strongpoints. I do not want to commit our legions blindly."

Galahad gave a brief, measured nod. "Understood, Your Majesty. How many troops will Your Majesty authorize for initial deployment?"

She tapped a slim jeweled baton against the arm of her throne.

"Take the Third Legion's light cohort and three hundred royal knights. They must be mobile and disciplined. I will release two arcane engineers from the Royal Order—specialists in sealing and anti-ritual work. I will also place two of the palace's arcane runecasters under your direct command."

"For supplies and transport?" Galahad asked, already cataloguing requirements in his mind.

"We cannot travel there by teleportation gate. So large ships are arranged. If you want any more resources, feel free to take them," Celestia replied.

"You will also be granted use of the imperial relay stones for rapid communication. I will not have this dragged into court politics; you may issue orders under my seal."

Galahad bowed his head. "Your confidence steadies the men, Your Majesty. I will leave at first dawn. Scouts will move tonight."

She rested a slender hand on the throne's armrest.

"One more thing. If you encounter artifacts or sigils tied to the Celestial Tree, any ancient structure or build, do not seize them lightly. Some relics are bound. Destroying them on impulse could be worse. Send me a report—I will counsel on any decision regarding the relics."

"Very well," he said. "I will catalog and report."

Galahad's voice was steady with solemn promise.

"You will have my discretion and my sword, Your Majesty. I will bring back truth—or I will bring back no silence at all."

Celestia inclined her head once more.

"Go then. May the Light Goddess guide you and our soldiers."

Galahad straightened, squared his shoulders, and bowed deeply. "As you command."

Celestia watched him with unreadable eyes.

"Also, do not put yourself in danger, Galahad. Return because you must."

He gave a final nod and left the throne room with the same disciplined stride with which he had entered.

The heavy doors closed behind him with a soft, resonant thud. Celestia remained seated a long moment after he departed, the throne's glow reflected in her calm, unreadable face.

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