Who would win?
A young girl emerging from her sheath and showing her edge,
Or a tyrant who has emerged victorious from a hundred battles?

The black and white legions squared off on the battlefield,
Golden and crimson blood converging into a coursing river.

“The leader herself actually dares to step forth and face peril?”
The tyrant charged toward the exposed gap in the king's flank,
And instantly fell into a trap of raging flames and iron rain.

“On the board, the King is too but a chess piece.
If the king does not lead, how would any dare to follow?”

She lifted the king of the crystal pieces high,
As though proclaiming the ascension of a new king.

Who would win?
The holy city that has stood for a thousand years,
Or the foreign city-states from a thousand miles away?

Hollow hatred ignited the flames of war,
The besieged walls of dawn tottered.

“Only a miracle can save us now…”
The cowardly elders barred themselves behind closed doors,
While the trembling citizenry knelt and prayed.

“There is no need to panic, the miracle is already here.”

Under the banners dancing like waves,
The burning crown shone bright as the wheeling constellations.

Who would win?
The general who saved the city,
Or the high and mighty with their privileged authority?

The guillotine fell, severing the elder's life.
The whispers dissipated, and the scales of victory tipped.

“From this day forth,
I shall bring justice to the holy city.”

The people cried out her name and knelt in reverence,
But were stopped by the sound of the scepter of authority striking the ground —
“Do not lower your heads beneath my crown.”

This was the first,
And also the only Imperator.

Who would win?
The heroes bursting with ambition,
Or the omnipotent gods?

“The Imperator issued the decree:
The start of the Flame-Chase Journey is at hand!”

Perhaps drawn by the grand design to welcome the Era Nova,
Or perhaps convinced by that king's great renown,
Righteous warriors from across the land gathered before the Imperator's throne.

On the day the journey began, the sky was an expanse of fluttering banners.
The people gazed upon the overwhelming military alliance,
A golden city reflected in their eyes.

As for the end of that chess game,
The scholars debate endlessly,
But such discussions always end with a sigh.

The invincible Imperator faded at the pinnacle of power.
The crown's flames extinguished in the lake.

The banner once revered by the people,
Along with the broken spears of the heroes, now a tomb.

The people said,
“Even the sovereign that conquers all before her, is no match for fate.”

Yet she said,
“In a war with fate, has there ever been any justice?”