As soon as Agitha left, Tyverius lets out a sigh of relief and anguish. His daughter who was watching secretly from behind the pillars that line the throne room, jumps onto his lap.

"Father!"

"Oof, yes dear?"

"Is our champion going to be just like Queen Ysvelt's?" Her eyes almost sparkling out of anticipation.

"No, dear."

"Aww-" She lets out disappointment before she is interrupted.

"Ours will be even better!" He confidently says, who knows if he has something up his sleeve to best Agitha.

"Yay!" She hugs her father, the king of Azerath, with much joy.

As they were enjoying their father-daughter bonding, a knock was heard on the throne door. Tyverius gestures the door guards to let them in. Opening the door for a servant to walk in and kneel before Tyverius.

"My king, preparations are complete for our champion summoning." He respectfully tells him.

"Okay, you may go." He then turns to his daughter, Lisbeth. "Ready to go see our champion?"

"Yes!" She hops off her fathers lap onto her feet. "Let's go! Let's go!"

"Haha, alright. I'm coming." He get up from his throne and walks up to his daughter before continuing to a corridor that leads underground.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

In a different part of the castle.

Blue torches line up all along the walls of the room dimly lighting it. Giving off a murky, grim aura as ten people in black robes raise their hands into the sky chanting words unknown in a circle. A woman stands in the middle of the circle above a drawing of a pentagram that slowly is getting brighter and brighter. Her body covered in a white robe instead, but doesn't hide the enchanting curves of the body that is underneath. The woman sees the pentragram reach a certain brightness and begins a chant.

"Oh gods above, we, the kingdom of Azerath, beseech thee to grant us thy holy warrior. One whose strength knows no bounds, courageous enough to face even the devilish of foes, whose wits never fail.

Pharo es vey tu com tay amos eva tray

de a ware sma she ah might de su. Az er ath met tri on zin thos."

The pentagram continuously shines brighter until a flash of white occurs. Blocking out all vision. Silence pervades the room, until an unknown voice rings through.

"..........this isn't my shower........"