Written by Aelyzabeth von Thors.
Two millennia had passed since the founding of Atlantheus Regnum Reich, and mankind had stretched its dominion across the corners of the known world. The thrones of men stood upon pillars of wisdom and order, ruled by the exalted House of Thorsius, whose lineage traced back to the Prophet and the First Emperor of Humanity.
In that age reigned Emperor Caesar Augustus IX of Thorsius, known throughout the lands as The Sage of the Golden Era. Under his benevolent hand, the world flourished — arts bloomed, knowledge prospered, and peace blanketed the earth like morning dew upon the soil of creation.
Yet even the wise are not spared the trials of time.In the eighty-second year of his life, fate struck cruelly — his sons, grandsons, and all heirs of his blood perished before him. The throne, once radiant with glory, stood cold and hollow.
And into that void crept the shadow of betrayal.A general, drunk on ambition, raised his hand against the hand that once blessed him. Beneath the quiet boughs of the Imperial Watermelon Garden — the Emperor's childhood sanctuary — treachery was sown. The blood of the Wise fell upon the soil, and from that crimson bloom arose chaos unrestrained.
Civil war engulfed Atlantheus Regnum Reich.The swords of the faithful clashed with the blades of traitors, and the screams of the dying mingled with the crackle of burning cities.In that darkness rose the Kanuth Slaves, long oppressed and silent, led by one Ramaseth Aphilidush Rex, who proclaimed himself King of the Enslaved. Under his banner gathered sixty thousand rebels — and the empire of mankind trembled upon its knees.
The House of Thorsius, stripped of power, fled to seek sanctuary among their kin — to the northern kingdom of Serium, ruled by Emperor Constantinus Augustus Rex XXI, kinsman to the fallen line.When he learned of his brother's death, wrath divine seized his heart.He gathered six thousand soldiers and one hundred and fifty war-dinosaurs, and with banners aloft and vengeance in his soul, he marched upon the Kanuth Rebellion.
Upon the Fields of Kanuth, sixty thousand slaves met six thousand warriors.The earth shook beneath the clash; the sky roared with the cry of beasts.The legions of Serium advanced with unyielding discipline, blades glinting like the teeth of gods.But deceit is the refuge of cowards — the rebels wove snares in shadow and struck from behind.The noble were undone by treachery, and valor was drowned beneath guile.
Serium fell.Its legions scattered.And Emperor Constantinus met his end upon the bloodstained earth.
Yet from ruin rose a flame unquenchable.From the ashes of defeat was born a new dawn —Prince Tiberius Caesar Craenus, but nine years of age, heir of House Craenus, rulers of Romanius and kin to the Thorsian line.With what few remained loyal, he gathered the remnants and fled across the frozen sea, through storms of ice and death, until they reached the southernmost realm of the world — a land of eternal frost.
There, amidst the white wilderness, he built a new city — Sereva Antarcticaum Regnum, carved from stone and glacier, a beacon of hope against the cold abyss.Four years hence, at the age of thirteen, he was crowned Emperor Tiberius Caesar Craenus I, the first of his name and the founder of a new imperial age — the Craenian Dynasty.
With but nine hundred soldiers, the boy-emperor marched forth to reclaim the honor of mankind.He waged war against sixty thousand Kanuth rebels, driven not by conquest but by the sacred vengeance of his forefathers.For twenty long years the earth burned — cities fell, rivers ran red, and the air reeked of blood and snow.
At last, when the final dawn rose upon the world, justice prevailed.The Kanuth were broken. Their cities burned to dust, their treasures and knowledge reclaimed by human hands.And from that victory, Sereva Antarcticaum Regnum rose to glory —a shining citadel of art, wisdom, and dominion that would guide mankind for the next one hundred million years.
And so let this chronicle bear witness:
Though man may fall, he rises again.Though empires perish, their honor endures.And though the world freeze to stillness, the fire of mankind shall never die.
— Aelyzabeth von Thors.
Thus ends Chapter A–VIII.