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In a world with seven magnificent Kingdoms, It's Creator THE DIVINER blessed seven noble families with extraordinary powers. For generations, these distinguished lineages have shielded their realms from darkness, trapping malevolent souls within the confines of Coulandra, an inescapable prison. Yet, when a striking woman of unparalleled beauty emerges as the coveted prize in a thrilling tournament, the very fabric of the seven Kingdoms begins to unravel. As the Ornex, a legion of relentless Sorcerers, sets their sights on her, plunging the realms into disarray. Now, the fate of the Seven Protectors hangs in the balance as they strive to safeguard her. However, as layers of mystery surrounding Lillian's beauty unfurl, they must grapple with the realization that she may be more than meets the eye. Prepare to embark on an enthralling journey through "Lillian's Beauty," where nothing is as it seems.
Inside the concealed heart of the towering Castle of Solara, a dark chamber stood shrouded in an eerie silence, disturbed only by the whispering flames that danced in the center, casting sinister shadows on the stone walls.
Five cloaked figures, their faces obscured in the dim light, encircled the flickering fire.
"Diamonds from the treacherous Sea of Despair," Ulric intoned, his voice low and commanding, each word tinged with an undercurrent of ancient power.
"Granite from the depths of the Canyon of Confusion," Tedos added, his voice resonating with an edge of mystery.
"Wild jasmines plucked from the mystical grounds of Sagehaven," Cretian interjected, his tone laced with an air of secrecy and reverence for the forbidden blooms.
"Dragon Scales, taken with utmost peril from the heart of Pyralon," Zatifan declared, his voice resonating with a haunting echo of the treacherous trials he endured to claim the coveted scales.
"And the Blood of a Direwolf, spilled in the accursed shadows of the Fool's Forest," Addidan concluded, his voice trembling slightly with the weight of the ominous ritual.
"We possess all the elements, my brothers," Ulric proclaimed, his eyes glinting with an eerie light beneath the deep cowl of his cloak. "Yet one ingredient eludes us still."
"An ingredient deemed impossible to acquire, Master," Cretian murmured, his head bowed in deference to the dark power that bound them all.
"Indeed, Master. How in the seven Kingdoms can we ever obtain the face of a goddess?" Addidan asked, his voice barely above a hushed murmur, as if speaking the words aloud might invite the wrath of unseen forces.
"Patience, brothers. For I have already laid the groundwork," Ulric announced, a glimmer of satisfaction tainting his otherwise inscrutable expression. "Zatifan!"
"Yes, Master," Zatifan replied, bowing deeply, his form a mere silhouette against the dancing flames.
"Seek out a champion, dear brother. We have a tournament to attend." Ulric commanded, the very air crackling with the weight of impending darkness and unspeakable power.
