Cerydra

The Northern Empire, a lost dynasty, where its frozen lands burn with the fever of conquest.
Sovereign Cerydra, the Chrysos Heir who wields the Coreflame of "Law," weaves her schemes, contends with the gods, passes judgment upon the faithless, and lays the foundation of Flame-Chase into this world.
..."This is far from the end. Amphoreus's journey is set to blaze across the stars!"

Hyperborea, the Northern Empire. A frigid realm where ambition burns without end.
Since the childless sovereign fell, the throne sits vacant while the empire tears itself apart in endless civil strife.

Refugees who lost their homes resort to begging to survive. A wounded girl with unusual blue hair stands out starkly against the pristine snow.
"Only the royal family blessed by Talanton possesses such flame-like blue hair, and only the chosen ones have golden blood flowing through their veins..."
An ambitious aristocrat takes in the beggar girl simply from just a passing glance, and begins spreading rumors of a lost princess.

They lead her onto a magnificent high stage where the aristocrat raises her arm high. From her pricked fingertip drips blood as golden as dawn itself.
The crowd below grows wild with excitement, and that heated anticipation seemingly sets her ablaze as well.

"From this day forward, you are Princess 'Cerydra'."
The aristocrat leads her into the palace, where she's dressed in ornate, heavy garments.
"Cery...dra?"
A single moment of hesitation earns her a slap so sharp it nearly brings tears to her eyes.
"I am... I am... Cery...dra..."
"I am Cerydra."
"I am her."
She controls her trembling as distant screams fade away.
— Those were the screams of the previous princess.

She studies royal etiquette daily until the tight corset no longer causes pain, until she can confidently deliver speeches...
"As the princess is still young, I shall serve as regent and oversee the Hyperborean Empire's affairs." The aristocrat gathers support in her name while seizing royal authority.
"She's merely a pawn we can discard, but she plays her role well enough to keep around." In the shadows, the new regent exchanges knowing smirks with the chancellor.

Endless days in captivity blur together as the young "princess" reluctantly abandons the distant shimmer of stars to focus on her chessboard.
This is the game for her self-preservation.

"Proud princess. Those eyes of yours, always watching, always hiding... They are like..."
"Like what?"
With barely any effort, she will soon reach the border of the chessboard.
"Like a flame soon to ignite..."

With a bittersweet smile, her teacher places down the final chess piece. After thousands of matches, there's no longer a chess strategy the princess has not mastered.

The imperial maids and guards have no power or status, yet they become the ever-present eyes throughout the shifting court.
She wins them with favors, gathers intelligence, and weaves a complex web of strategies.
Old aristocrats who despise the new king secretly plot rebellion, placing assassins among the royal guards.
She plays the willing conspirator while secretly positioning her "knights" who will do the dirty work.
The empire's citizens revere her fabricated bloodline, so she extends charity to the elderly and supports the vulnerable.
Her rising reputation wins them over, making them into "rooks" who will dominate the board.

"Meet me in my tent at the third quint of Curtain-Fall Hour. Urgent matters to discuss in private, Your loyal chancellor."
As the sealed note finds its way to her, she knows her essential "bishop" has entered play, with each courtier now conspiring in pursuit of their covert desire for military expansion.

Candlelight dances across the tent, casting shadows of deceit. The chancellor wears a smile as hollow as a faded portrait.
"The northern territories share nothing with the south's gentle warmth." He points to the map sprawled before them, "Lingering here will be Hyperborea's undoing. I've secured the continent's most formidable mercenaries. The regent requests that you personally lead the campaign..."

She knows they see her as expendable, ready to blame her for any failure that might occur.
But she's waited far too long. Without a daring gamble, how could she ever hope to turn the tables?

Crossing the mountains of Epos, she seizes the opportunity when Loukas rises in rebellion. She crushes their forces while recruiting the Chrysos General Fortunado to her side, winning the army's loyalty.
City after city falls as Hyperborean armies advance like an unstoppable blaze. The blue-haired girl raises her banner, sending thundering hooves toward her chosen targets.
She watches her army build up, knowing her final "pawns" are positioned for checkmate.

On that dark, snowy night, the triumphant princess rides a silver-white steed, leading her forces through the capital gates to proclaim new edicts...
"From this day forward, I shall bring justice to Hyperborea!"

They drag the regent "king" who wears the false crown from his chambers, while his loyalists who refuse to bend find only soldiers' steel awaiting them.
"She... she is not Cerydra!"
From her throne of judgment, she draws her blade across her palm and golden blood trickles down as the crowd mocks him, drowning the "king" in despair.
"This regent 'king' has governed with depravity, plunging the empire into chaos. By the authority of the Law, I hereby sentence you..."

In the bitter northern winds, her blue hair dances wildly, blazing like fire against the pale sky.
"Death by fire!"

Amid the flames, she places the imperial crown upon her head, her only trophy of war.
A flicker of cobalt fire awakens atop the crown, never to be quenched again.

The tripartite prophecy spreads from Janusopolis to the city-states in endless strife throughout the land.
"Saving the world... has never been of a chessmaster's interest."
She ponders the prophecy, envisioning a fiery future unfolding before her.
"But to challenge gods who see themselves as rulers, and even venture beyond the sky... now that's a game worth playing!"

Through the endless night, she draws golden-blooded children of humanity like a brilliant flame:
In Okhema's Council, Chrysos Heirs and common folk alike share the right to debate and vote.
Magnificent libraries rise from the ground, granting all access to knowledge of the Flame-Chase mission.
As ancient military orders crumble into dust, a gladius of the deep is drawn to shore, following the perfume of blood and fire to serve as her blades.
In the political waters of the holy city, the Goldweaver of Okhema rises on the horizon, and the trembles of golden threads entangle the people's fates.
...

Yet her chessboard is etched in golden blood, and she plays against gods themselves. Though she trades burning pain for her crown and suffers eternal infancy for the future, the scales of victory have never truly tipped in humanity's favor.
"Losses are a constant on the Flame-Chase journey..."
"Only through a worthy sacrifice can we gain a befitting victory. But to topple gods, this is far from enough..."
Day and night she studies the board, concealing her anxieties from any watchful eyes.

"If you're the chess master, then that makes us the pawns, right?"
Without waiting for an answer, the girl who wields a sword like a musical instrument wipes blood from her hands and nods.
"I understand now."
Only in moments like these would the proud empress fall uncharacteristically silent.
"If only..."
A trace of bitterness flickers across her face.
"No, there are no 'if onlys' anymore."

Before the battle to claim the Ocean's Coreflame, she stands once more upon the platform, looking down at five hundred subjects who hold their breath, awaiting her decree.

"My warriors..."
As her voice resounds, cheers erupt throughout the crowd.
"Today, the 'Ocean' shall surrender to us, and the beast of 'Destruction' will become our unstoppable weapon. Now, raise your cups! To our conquest of the sea of stars!"

She knows that only a crimson sea of no return awaits ahead, but she must wear the mask of the unflinching ruler.
In that moment, the wisdom of her teacher whispers to her again...

"Chess is the art of sacrifice."
"Your hands must accept death before touching the board."

"Drip."
A drop of blood falls into water, sending golden ripples across the surface.

"Dux Gladiorum, have you thought about where our paths might lead after this battle ends?"
The sword-wielding girl stands in thoughtful silence before shaking her head.
"After the rebellion settles, we'll head for the stars. You'll find your crystal-clear ocean out there, I promise."
With a faint smile, she lifts her scepter skyward.
"The gods have pitted us against each other, letting Amphoreus end its own life in the cosmos. So I'll turn my blade on them, on every god, whether in our world or beyond."

"Drip."
A drop of blood falls into water, sending golden ripples across the surface.

"Dux Gladiorum, what if someday I command you to turn your blade against me?"
The girl remains silent, assuming it's just another of her cruel jokes.
"I'd want your sharpest edge. Anything less would dishonor those who sacrificed themselves for my cause."
She tosses the chess piece that represented herself off the board.
"See? To lose is to gain. New paths have emerged."

"Drip."
A drop of blood falls into water, sending golden ripples across the surface.

"Dux Gladiorum, who do you think can take up the heavy burden of the Flame-Chase journey once we're gone?"
In perfect unison, their gaze falls upon the distant "Goldweaver."
"That little golden trout will one day become the most magnificent fish in this pond."

"Drip."
A drop of blood falls into water, sending golden ripples across the surface.

"Many speculate about what I traded with Talanton. Was it the power of endless victory, or the authority of law... Heh. I've never needed any divine help for those..."

The silhouette of her past companion faded away. She felt the cold creeping in, the sky pitch black like a starless cave.
Long ago, she had also witnessed, in bone-chilling cold, a child with golden blood being taken away.

"But in this world that devours people, having golden blood... is the only chance to overthrow everything. Even if... I must live like this for the rest of my life..."

The blue-haired girl closes her eyes.
"But I've only wished for one thing... since the beginning..."
From a beggar child nearly frozen to death in the wilds, to a princess who was no better than a puppet, then to a commander who challenged gods... She personally elevated herself from pawn to player, only to sacrifice herself when the endgame demanded it...

"I wish to conquer the tyrannical fate of this world!"