Deborah Dolphis.
Her name alone was enough to send a chill through history books and historians alike.
She was the one who had ignited the flames of war against Sancta Vedelia—and Dolphis Kingdom, her own kingdom. She toppled the throne she was born to protect, murdered her own brother in cold blood, and led a monstrous army composed genetically modified hybrids. One by one, cities fell under her army.
Was it grief?
A shattered heart mourning Xenos' defeat?
Was she acting out of despair?
No. That was too simple. Too human.
Deborah Dolphis wasn't someone who'd lose her composure over sentiment. She had admired Xenos, certainly—they were alike in many ways: cold, ruthless, brilliant beyond reason. But I couldn't see her broken emotionally over his loss. It just didn't fit.
"It could have all been avoided," Roda had muttered at the time, arms crossed. "If only her parents had paid better attention to what their daughter truly was."
