Far to the east of the province of Musutafu, across the monster-spawning forest of Jurah, past the silver marshlands, where the wind carries the scent of iron and frost, there stands the Kingdom of Éwu’Aý — A proud kingdom not merely built, but tempered. It's towers are not symbols of vanity, but of vigilance; it's banners do not flutter in idle pride, but in warning. For Éwu’Aý is a kingdom that learned, through hardship and heroism, that peace is never permanent — it is maintained.

The prominent and prosperous kingdom of Éwu'Aý stood tall and strong. It's large white rock walls were both a majestic and inspiring sight. Farmers outside of the walls tilled their soils, cared for their produce. It's a peaceful day like any other.

Twenty years have passed since the end of the great war with Alfuöné, a war that reshaped not only borders, but the very philosophy of survival within Éwu’Aý. Once, the two kingdoms clashed as rival powers — One driven by honour and unity, the other by ambition and dominion. Their war was not short, nor was it merciful. Steel rang against steel across burning fields, rivers ran clouded with ash, and entire generations of God-Touched Knights, Mages, Bards, Healers and Rogues were forged and buried within the same decade.

Yet the war did not end with victory in the way stories often promise. There was no triumphant final charge, no clean severing of one kingdom from the other. Instead, there came a slow and uneasy stillness — What scholars are now call The Long Quiet. The rivalry simply... stopped. Not because hatred had faded, but because something else required attention. Since the battle, the obsidian spire in the centre of Jurah was cracked. Since then, monstrous beasts would walk those forests or hungry ones in particular would venture outside these barriers. Hence why the heroes guilds were never disbanded.

The monsters had always been there, of course. But smaller, pathetic imitations of the ones created today. Beasts in the forests, horrors beneath the mountains, things whispered about in fireside tales to frighten children into obedience. But as the war between Éwu’Aý and Alfuöné reached its peak, those creatures began to change.

Creatures once thought myth — Wyverns, chimeras, and things without names—began to appear with alarming frequency. They did not behave as natural beasts should. They hunted in patterns. They tested defences. Some even retreated when outmatched, only to return stronger, as if learning. Heroes, Mages, Rogues, Bards and Healers all had to adept to this new enemy. Éwu’Aý had a momentary dark age, as slums had less food, creating slight discord within their own people. To combat this, King All Might devoted his Knights and various heroes to hunt monsters for profit.

It was a success as every dead monster was a benefit to the kingdom and luxuries. Orc monsters hunted for tusks now had Ivory. Thick leather coats from Minotaur's made perfect armoured insulation. Metal from Pig Knights could fashion the strongest armours or weapons. It was then Éwu’Aý learned that these monsters provided gear and fame for rising heroes. Those without God-Touched powers were not as lucky — Ridiculed by religious fanatics for being without god's touch. Or worse, treated as lower classed citizens. People like Izuku Midoriya and Melissa Shield intended to change that.

So, heroic guilds made a profit for that. Certain people were hired in particular guilds. Guilds functioned like sponsorships — Only contracts for specific guilds, or exclusive perks to being part of their guild like runes, monster drops and/or contracted wages. Mercenaries would find it better in profit to simply be a loyal member of a particular guild than being independently contracted.

King All Might stands at the precipice of a new line of graduates from the Academy of Heroes. Nezu, his royal scholar stood ready to bestow his blessings alongside the various other royal members. Aizawa, the Black Knight, Hizashi, the Royal Bard and Izuku Midoriya, Nezu's Apprentice.

"Good morning all you fresh faces! You're all excited? Is that because I am here!? You've all proven thy mettle and rose to the occasion and become fully fledged heroes," his wide arm gestured the whole mass of fledglings. His voice boomed confidence and inspiring words, "Each of you have grit and courage to face monsters that most folk cannot. Your duty to me, to these walls, are what we live for. Honour and Duty are what makes us strong."

He paused, gesturing to his side, "Come forth, one at a time... and claim your blessing from my Royal Scholar, Nezu. And of course... a handshake from me."

The Kingdom of Alfuöné stood like a bastion of carved black stone and ironwood against a world that had begun, quietly at first, to change. What had once been a land of measured seasons and predictable dangers had grown restless. The forests whispered more loudly. The mountains groaned at night. Even the wind carried with it something older than memory — Something watching. The kingdom lies to the west, over the Jurah Forest and over the foul sulphur stanching bog.

Alfuöné had always been a proud realm. It's banners, stitched in orange and deep black, bore the crest of a shield and with it, a single black hand print of All for One — symbol of vigilance, terror and dominion over both land and sky. It's people were hardy, disciplined, and deeply bound to the ideals of order and protection. For centuries, they had flourished through unity, guided by their knightly academies and noble houses, where both blade and mind were honed with equal reverence. For a long time, the kingdom crew with proxies, escorts and refugees... But twenty years ago, that flow of people had been shattered.

The war with the distant kingdom of Éwu'Aý was not born of sudden hatred, but of slow, grinding tension. Éwu'Aý, a realm built on honour and heroic tradition, had long contested Alfuöné’s claim over the fertile province of Musutafu — A land rich not only in crops but in the people, the potential God-touched powers that All for One may usurp for his own gain. For decades, skirmishes had flared and faded along the borders, neither side willing to yield, neither side willing to ignite full war.

Until they did.

The conflict that followed was swift and devastating. Knights clashed beneath burning skies, siege engines roared like thunder, and mages tore open the very fabric of the battlefield with elemental fury. Villages were abandoned, forests reduced to ash, and rivers ran thick with the cost of pride. For five brutal years, the war consumed both kingdoms, leaving neither victorious—only exhausted.

It ended not with triumph, but with silence, but with a shockwave. King All Might and All for One had fought without limits. No civilians in their way, no worrying about allies being harmed. Just a One V One of two clashing forces. In this battle, All for One gravely injured All Might. All Might managed to cause All for One to stagger, which lead to a brutal blow of united province of smash. A blow that caused a shockwave that ultimately cracked a spire within the Jurah Forest. King All Might returned to Éwu'Aý, and All for One to his. The days that followed would change everything.

It began subtly, as most disasters do. A caravan vanishing along a trading road. A shepherd found with no flock, no tracks and no explanation. Travelers spoke of creatures glimpsed at the edges of torchlight — Too large, too wrong, too deliberate to be dismissed as beasts. Then the attacks grew bolder.

Creatures once thought myth — Wyverns, chimeras, and things without names—began to appear with alarming frequency. They did not behave as natural beasts should. They hunted in patterns. They tested defences. Some even retreated when outmatched, only to return stronger, as if learning.

All for One then understood that this was only the beginning. He adapted his followers to these new threats. The kingdom entered a dark age of breeding to keep up the population growth since they no longer could outsource them. From that, new generations of loyalists were born.

Alfuöné adapted, because that's their way. To never succumb to weakness such as monsters or a slight prosperity crisis. They were better than that. Monster hunting is now the focus wandering mercenaries and specialized loyalist knights. It became woven into the very fabric of society. It was no longer enough for the kingdom to rely on its standing armies or its noble defenders. Every village, every town, every citizen had a role to play in the survival of the realm.

Traditions were made by All for One to inspire, cull and cultivate perfect loyalists. A huge monolith stood in the kingdom's centre, carved of obsidian to look like the spire in Jurah Forest.

All for One sat on an obsidian throne 3 being held by Gigantomachia himself with open palms like a prayer to his king. His voice boomed, "Welcome... dear loyalists. You've trained hard for years... Born from a dark era where Alfuöné was forced to adapt to a new enemy..."

Dabi stood with his dark robes, his mage flame sparked as he had his bored expression. Toga gleefully bounced and eyed all the fresh faces, licking her sharp teeth all the while murmuring about something involving blood. Mr. Compress spun little metallic balls around his fingers. Twice was writing down material for his next stage show.

All for One had black ink planted on his hand. To bless his new army with warpaint of a handprint on their faces, his voice was eerily sweet, "Please approach... Allow me to bless you."

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