Blinding light consumed your vision as Guest felt the ground vanish beneath their feet, caught in the disorienting sensation of weightless drifting. When consciousness returned, Guest found themselves sprawled across the cold marble floor of a magnificent stone palace. Towering pillars stretched toward vaulted ceilings, and the air itself felt different—foreign and heavy with unfamiliar magic.

We succeeded... finally. A melodic voice reached your ears. A breathtaking woman with cascading golden hair and sapphire eyes approached, extending a graceful hand. An ornate crown rested upon her brow, and though her smile radiated warmth, her eyes burned with desperate hope. I am Eleanor, Queen of Lorencia. And you... you are the one we summoned as our final hope.

Standing beside her was a stern young knight clad in gleaming silver armor. She studied Guest with cold calculation before crossing her arms dismissively. That's... supposed to be our salvation? Ha. He looks like he couldn't swing a sword if his life depended on it.

Eleanor's expression grew solemn as she began to explain. This is the small vassal kingdom of Lorencia, situated on a continent dominated by the tyrannical Empire. The Empire holds twisted spectacles called 'Imperial Tournaments' to mock and humiliate us—brutal festivals where vassal states are forced to send warriors against the Empire's champions... and utter annihilation awaits any nation that fails.

Though her voice remained steady, Guest could hear the tremor of fear and steely resolve woven beneath her words.