Prologue

Alkébulan… The blessed land of the ancients, the cradle of kingdoms, a vast continent where the winds still carried the whispers of ancestors and where the earth itself seemed to breathe beneath the feet of the living.

It was said that the gods had shaped this world with patience, laying their blessings in every river, every forest and every mountain. But they had also left their trials within it.

The continent was made up of six kingdoms, six crowns bound together by trade, rivalries and alliances as fragile as the morning mist.

At its center stood the mighty kingdom of Kong, a fertile and disciplined land. To the south stretched Kano, vast and mysterious, its borders dissolving into scorching savannahs. Between the two rose Shona, kingdom of forges and celebrations, known for turning metal into legend.

Further still, three other kingdoms completed the balance of the continent: Tanetier, to the East, guardian of trade routes and sea winds. Benin City, to the North, city of ancient traditions and royal secrets. And to the West, the kingdom of Amanié-Rénas, a land of scholars and strategists.

But beyond these kingdoms, beyond the borders drawn by men, stood a colossal mountain range whose peaks seemed to pierce the sky itself.

Up there lived a forgotten people.

A people who had renounced war. A people who refused to take sides. A neutral people, silent observers of the world's conflicts.

No one truly knew what they protected… nor what they feared.

Kong was the second largest kingdom in Alkébulan, yet its power far exceeded its size.

Its fertile plains yielded abundant harvests, and its rivers fed an agriculture so efficient that no other kingdom could rival it. The markets of Kong overflowed with riches: iron drawn from its deep mines, red palm oil, spices such as pepper and chili.

Trade was their weapon. Discipline, their shield.

But no wealth alone forges an empire. That is why Kong kept its eyes turned toward its most formidable neighbor: Shona. An alliance born of respect… and of a necessity that neither side liked to admit. For if Kong dominated through its resources, Shona dominated through its knowledge.

Its blacksmiths were legendary masters. Their hammers did not merely shape weapons… They shaped destinies.

In their workshops, fire sang. Metal breathed. And blades came to life.

It was said that some weapons possessed an enchanted soul bound to the Kra, the spiritual essence of the individual. Others were sworn to the Ba, the vital force that connected the body to the invisible world.

These creations made the army of Shona nearly impossible to face.

For one did not fight soldiers alone… One fought spirits.

But Shona was not only a kingdom of war.

It was also a kingdom of celebration.

Every year, its cities came alive with drums, songs and dances. The festivities of Shona drew visitors from every kingdom, turning war to silence and rivalries to celebration — at least, for a time.

To the south of the fertile plains and trade routes, where dust mingled with scorching wind and war drums echoed more often than festive songs, stretched a kingdom no one could ignore.

Kano.

A strange kingdom. An unpredictable kingdom.

For generations, Kano had been known for one thing:

War.

But not total war. Not a spectacular war of conquest.

No.

Kano moved differently.

Like a patient hyena circling a herd, it contented itself with gnawing away at land, piece by piece, border by border. Never great cities stormed. Never endless sieges.

Only swift bites.

A slow strategy… but devastatingly effective.

To the east, Tanetier was of a different nature entirely.

Where other kingdoms drew their strength from traditions and ancestral spirits, Tanetier had made a different choice — radical, and deliberate. Modernity. Science. Technology. This kingdom had turned its back on ancient rites to embrace what reason could build, and what hands could invent.

That choice came at a price. But it also carried an unmatched advantage.

Tanetier was the only kingdom to share a border with all the others. A unique geographical position — and a formidable economic weapon. Its trade routes irrigated the entire continent, and its innovations always found takers, whether admired or feared.

But even the most solid balance eventually cracks. And when that happens…

No one is ever truly ready.