Lofanania.

This city rose millennia ago in the Great Darksend Region.

Back then, it was merely a military fortress—tiny. Beyond barracks, only a single monastery stood within its walls. The monks there spent days chanting scriptures, but occasionally grabbed warhammers and axes to fight alongside soldiers, praying mid-battle.

So yes, this place was undeniably a garrison.

Outside the walls stretched endless inky-green forests and sprawling marshes.

But ever since the great Empress—Lofna—chose it as her capital, guiding her descendants to build Eastern Epoli, the city had expanded over a thousand years alongside the empire’s rise.

Forests were felled, lakes drained, hills leveled—the city grew like a colossal living entity, devouring timber, stone, and iron ore, assimilating everything around it.

Now, it stood as the capital of the Eastern Epoli Empire, a vital political and cultural hub on the continent, and one of its largest, most vibrant cities.

Beyond the solemn Imperial Palace lay the outer metropolis—a kaleidoscope of life.

Grid-like boulevards divided the city into countless blocks. Within these grids, interconnected yet distinct neighborhoods formed its basic units, each revealing the city’s complex tapestry:

Garden villas reserved for nobles; grimy taverns where laborers gulped cheap liquor;

Underground bloodsport arenas; elegant opera houses for high society;

Bustling markets crowded with street vendors hawking trinkets; exclusive clubs barring commoners behind gilded doors;

Debauched parties worthy of divine wrath; shanties propped up by scrap wood and sand.

Monks studied in ancient monasteries; nobles indulged in lavish towers; commoners scrambled through chaotic streets…

Believers from across the continent gathered here, speaking in a chorus of accents.

Some toiled for survival, others savored life; some fretted over futures, others lived only for today…

Yet no matter their origin or status, everyone found a place in Lofanania.

Then they spent their coin, enjoying privileges befitting their station.

Nameless had rested at the inn for two or three days, passing time listening to Shel’s old tales.

Her strength slowly returned.

After hearing those stories, she felt she understood Shel better—yet his image grew stranger.

What had he and his two students truly endured? Why did Lofna show him a love that felt like hatred? What had become of Hilna? How had Shel and his wife come together? Why did he refuse to recall more?

She longed to press him, to know what happened next.

But Shel seemed unwilling to speak plainly.

Once Nameless recovered, he bought a city newspaper, scanned the opera listings, and made a decision.

Leaving the inn, he hired a carriage. Passing a clothing store, he stepped down to buy formal wear suitable for the opera.

"Nameless, pick a dress. We’re going to the opera."

"The opera?" Nameless blinked. "Now? Why suddenly?"

"*Great Adventure of Saint Lofuna*—Eastern Epoli’s classic. An opera adapted from Empress Lofna’s life. To help you understand her past."

"Oh—"

Obediently, she searched for a dress, but her tall, slender frame found nothing fitting. A tailor hastily crafted a black gown, paired with sheer black stockings and boots. The shopkeeper kindly pinned her hair into an elegant bun.

Nameless had never cared much for appearances before.

Staring into the full-length mirror, seeing herself transformed from a sharp, capable bodyguard into a poised noblewoman, she felt a flush rise.

Especially under Shel’s gaze—that awkwardness could make her scrape a hole through the soles of her boots.

"Time to go," he said, nodding. He tipped the tailor generously. The couple accepted the coins gladly, adding, "Sir, your wife is stunning. You two are truly made for each other."

Nameless nearly melted into the floor.

"Thank you," Shel murmured politely before ushering her out.

Their carriage arrived at Lofanania’s grandest Royal Opera House.

The theater boasted four or five halls, each seating thousands. Daily, without fail, *Great Adventure of Saint Lofuna* played here.

The story followed the founding empress: as a youth, summoned by the Eternal Father, she left her homeland—Ipoli, then a tiny kingdom—journeyed across the continent, gained wondrous powers, and returned to lead Ipoli to glory.

With festivals crowding the calendar, the theater was packed. Shel paid extra for a private box on the second floor.

As the curtain rose, the actress playing young Lofna—a beautiful redhead chosen to mirror the empress’s portraits—sang freely across Ipoli’s fields, strolled its streets, and interacted with her prince father and queen mother.

But this tale differed from Shel’s account.

The real Lofna had been a neglected daughter; her parents’ marriage was nearly nonexistent.

Without Shel, she’d likely have grown up an uneducated village girl in a broken home.

Here, she was the cherished princess, Ipoli’s jewel—clever, radiant, heaven’s favorite.

The actress’s voice was exquisite; the stagecraft breathtaking. Despite the absurd plot, Nameless was soon swept away.

Hilna appeared too, but twisted—the opera merged roles, making her Lofna’s younger sister.

This Hilna was a quiet, rigid girl with blue hair, overshadowed by her sister and simmering with envy.

Yet Lofna treated her as her dearest friend.

Most of Act I showed their daily life in Ipoli—singing, strolling, laughing.

Time flew.

Only at the act’s end did the plot advance: a HolySee envoy arrived, declaring both sisters possessed magical talent. He invited them to train in the City of Glory, to become HolySee luminaries.

Hilna, dreaming of status, accepted.

Lofna, though ambitious, loved her family too much. She stayed.

The sisters parted ways.

Act I closed.

Nameless snapped back to reality.

"Lord Shel, they changed *everything*! And you’re not in it at all!"

"Centuries have passed. It’s art—it *must* change," Shel replied. "This version is still close to truth. Besides, Lofna wouldn’t want descendants knowing I existed. She resented Hilna too. And this is an Eastern Epoli Empire production—they’ll glorify her."

"What… what truly happened to her?"

"Watch," Shel said.

Act II began: Lofna’s life in Ipoli.

Its title chilled the air: "*The Plague*."

The opening scene showed a peaceful Ipoli village. Then—a corpse, limbs blackened, blood oozing from every orifice.

Panic erupted.

Soon, most of Ipoli’s people writhed in feverish agony. Even Lofna’s parents fell ill.

The kind-hearted Lofna knelt before the HolySee emblem, praying to the Eternal Father to save her family.

Her devotion moved heaven. An angel descended.

"Virtuous Lofna, this plague is Heaven’s punishment for a foolish world—a destined calamity, unavoidable. But the Father knows your faith. He grants you a chance to save them.

"Go forth. The Father bestows power to change the world. You shall become the one true Saintess!"

Thus, by divine miracle, Lofna became the Saintess.

Bathed in her holy light, Ipoli’s people rose from death’s grip.

Cheers erupted: "*Saintess Lofna!*"

But the Father’s revelation forbade her to stay.

No longer a carefree princess, the Saintess had a duty—to save countless souls across the continent, to spread the Gospel, to heal the plague-stricken.

Act II ended.

Nameless turned to Shel, seeking answers.

He sighed. "As you saw, Nameless. Roughly a year after I parted with Lofna… the plague struck. The ‘Baztan Great Plague.’ It spread via fur traders from Baztan, reaching neighboring kingdoms, then ports, then the entire continent.

"In truth, it reached Ipoli. Most were infected—including Lofna’s mother.

"But unlike this opera, the real Lofna never met an angel of the Father. She never became a Saintess who saved them. All that was fabricated later.

"The truth is this: to save her mother, she entered into a pact with a Fiend from the Netherworld."