Journey to Become the Zenith

Before the Throne of the Phoenix

”Are you ready?”

Videl slowly lifted her gaze.

Her sapphire-blue eyes met Mora’s calm black ones.

For a brief moment neither of them spoke. The corridor behind them had fallen completely silent, as if even the palace itself was holding its breath.

Then—

She nodded.

”Yes.”

Mora returned the nod.

Without another word, he stepped forward and placed both hands against the enormous doors before them.

The ancient wood groaned softly under the pressure.

Slowly—

The massive doors began to open.

A deep, echoing sound rolled through the palace hall as the doors to the throne room of Skyfall Kingdom slowly swung wide.

Mora stepped forward first.

Videl followed a single step behind him.

The moment she entered the throne room—

Her senses sharpened.

The room was enormous.

Sunlight streamed down through tall crystal windows high along the walls, illuminating the polished stone floor and long crimson carpet that stretched from the entrance all the way to the throne.

Yet the first thing Videl noticed was not the beauty of the hall.

It was the presence.

At the far end of the room—

A figure sat upon a massive stone throne.

And the pressure radiating from that figure filled the entire chamber.

Videl’s heartbeat slowed instinctively.

That feeling...

She had felt something similar before.

Whenever Victor became serious in battle...

Whenever the calm expression left his face and his eyes turned cold.

That same invisible pressure would appear.

It wasn’t mana.

It wasn’t killing intent.

It was something else entirely.

Something deeper.

A presence that made the air itself feel heavy.

And the source of that pressure—

Was the woman sitting upon the throne.

Queen Amara of Skyfall Kingdom.

A quiet strength held her upright, like someone born to decide. Her spine stayed straight, not from effort, but habit - authority wore into bones. Power wasn’t claimed. It simply showed up in how she occupied space. The air around her didn’t challenge. It adjusted.

Into the room she walked, and the air changed. Every eye turned, pulled without effort. Space seemed tighter, yet somehow brighter too. Quiet followed her like a shadow others couldn’t cast.

Even when sitting, Amara seemed towering, spine rigid like a drawn blade. Not delicate or soft, she carried herself with the build of someone who had fought rather than fawned. Strength showed in her frame, shaped by motion, not measured steps across marble halls.

A trail of long silver hair streamed behind, bright as moonlit water. Held at the crown by a loose knot, a golden clip formed like a rising bird kept it in place. From there, threads of light spilled over her shoulders, falling without restraint toward her lower back.

Under the sunlight, those thin silver threads caught the glow. Each strand seemed to flicker like a tiny flame when touched by morning light.

A sharp stillness lived in her features. One glance stuck without trying.

Sharp yet graceful.

A sharp crimson filled her eyes, steady and bright like something too aware. Without blinking, they held a stillness that made you feel uncovered, almost known. What stood out was how peaceful she looked - even while seeming to notice everything.

Framing her features, sharp cheekbones rose like carved stone. A quiet strength settled in the shape of her face.

Fully shaped, her lips held a natural red tint, the corners hinting at something unspoken. Not warm, yet not sharp either - the curve stayed just out of reach of meaning.

Just... confident.

A trace of muscle ran beneath the curve of her neck, then into the rigid lines of her crown dress. Heavy fabric shaped like a shell held its ground around her shoulders.

A long robe draped her frame, stitched in silver with golden lines weaving through like stormlight caught in wind. Crimson curled into shapes that hinted at feathers mid-flight. Clouds seemed to drift along the fabric whenever she moved, pulled by some unseen breath. Gold thread flickered under light, not shouting but whispering ancient symbols near the sleeves. The garment held stillness even when she walked, heavy with quiet meaning.

The robe wrapped around her powerful frame, its rich fabric draping over muscle and form alike, accentuating the strength of her body rather than hiding it. Even seated upon the throne, it was clear she possessed the physique of someone who had spent years training for war rather than merely ruling from a distance.

Her full, E-cup breasts pressed firmly against the structured fabric of the robe, their soft weight shaping the material and leaving little doubt about the curves beneath the regal attire. The garment was elegant, yet it could not conceal the vitality of the body it adorned.

From there, the line of her figure drew inward—her waist narrowing sharply before widening again into strong, defined hips that lent her silhouette both power and grace. It was the kind of presence that commanded attention without needing to ask for it.

One leg crossed casually over the other, a relaxed gesture that somehow made her look even more formidable.

As she shifted slightly, the robe parted at the thigh, revealing a glimpse of her long, toned legs beneath the flowing fabric—evidence of strength earned through discipline rather than ornament.

Everything about her radiated authority.

Upon her head rested a magnificent crown of gold and silver, its design shaped like wings spreading outward around a central gemstone that glowed faintly with mana.

Yet even the crown could not compete with the aura she naturally possessed.

Beside the throne rested several weapons.

On her right—

A massive sword nearly twice the size of Videl’s Long Sword leaned against the throne.

On the left—

A tall staff radiating brilliant holy light stood upright.

And beside it rested a towering shield, large enough to cover an entire person.

Behind the throne hung the royal banner.

A phoenix embracing a castle, the symbol of the Skyfall Kingdom.

While Videl observed the throne—

She also noticed something else.

Hidden presences.

On the high beams of the ceiling.

Behind pillars.

Even within the walls themselves.

Elite guards.

Exactly as Amura had warned her.

So those are the monsters she sensed...

Mora continued walking forward along the carpet.

When he reached the proper distance from the throne—

He knelt.

Videl immediately did the same.

Her knee touched the cold stone floor as she lowered her head respectfully.

Mora spoke first.

”I have brought her, my Queen... as you requested.”

The throne room remained silent for a moment.

Then—

A deep, powerful voice echoed through the chamber.

”Well, done, Mora.”

Queen Amara’s voice carried both strength and calm authority.

”We are pleased by your performance.”

Mora lowered his head further.

”I am honored to receive your praise, Your Majesty.”

Amara’s crimson eyes slowly shifted toward the kneeling figure beside him.

Her gaze lingered there for a moment.

Studying.

Measuring.

Evaluating.

Then she spoke again.

”Young knight.”

”Raise your head.”

Her voice carried the natural authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed.

”And tell this Queen who you are.”

Videl lifted her head slowly.

From this distance, the Queen’s presence felt even stronger.

And something else caught her attention immediately.

Her eyes widened slightly beneath the mask.

She looks... like Eon.

The similarity was undeniable.

The same sharp facial structure.

The same commanding gaze.

Even the same shape of eyes.

But this was not the time to dwell on that thought.

Videl straightened slightly while remaining kneeling.

Then she spoke clearly.

”Your Majesty...”

Her voice echoed gently in the vast throne room.

”I am Videl.”

”A simple student of the Knight Academy in Fantom City.”