The Third Zarat War.
Whispered about even today, a memory that still makes brave hearts tremble.
The arrival of Samardun was not merely the beginning of a war—it was the end of one age, and the blood-soaked birth of another.
When the dust of battle settled, when the last meteor faded, when the echoes of spoken spells dissolved
only the lonely song of the wind drifted through the valley. That song told a sorrowful tale:
"Once, thousands came here to fight. In the Third Zarat War. They believed death and victory were the only paths in life. But mercy came and taught them another way—the path of peace, the path of love."
This was the Third Zarat War.
A war that never truly became a war. The soldiers of the Twelve Kingdoms rediscovered their lost principles. They would return home, live with their families, and exist in peace.
The Samardun remained undefeated, but alone. Their victory was complete.
And the wind... the wind continued to sing its eternal song—the song of loneliness, the song of the emptiness of victory, the song of the Third Zarat War. And the song of that question which forever makes humanity weep: "What remains after victory, when there is no one left to defeat?"
Thus, in silence, the Third Zarat War came to an end.
An epic confrontation—where both mercy and cruelty emerged victorious, each in their own way.
*****
It is said that on the final night of the fall, when black smoke and flames merged in the skies above the capital and blotted out the daylight, the remaining descendants of the Twelve Princes embarked on a secret mission. They gathered all the wealth of the Balan Empire—ancient swords, gold, blood-red gems, crowns—and carried everything deep into the Jathar Forest.
Jathar Forest was already cursed then. When night fell, the stars vanished from the sky, and shadows roamed the air. No one dared to enter. And so, from that day onward, no one ever found any trace of that hidden treasure.
Thousands of years have passed. The empire has crumbled, the banners have turned to dust, yet somewhere within the depths of Jathar still lies the lost great treasure of the Balans.
Countless adventurers, raiders, even princes have gone in search of that legendary hoard, but all have returned empty-handed.
Historians still debate whether this tale is true. Some say it is nothing but folklore, a story created to immortalise the deluded pride of a fallen dynasty. Others believe the treasure still sleeps intact within the forests of Jathar.
The bloodline of the Balan dynasty has not ended. Their descendants still live today, scattered from one end of the land to the other, living like ordinary people. Yet it is said—the fire of the old empire still flares in their eyes, and within their blood flows the call of that cursed treasure.
[The end of volume two]