Such a creation came at great cost to the kingdom. Maintaining it drained Osita heavily, which was why it was never meant to be permanent. The scans would last only for the duration of the event and the season, no more than a week.

Even so, the burden was immense.

Now the question turns to why all of this was done for only a single week. What meaning could such a brief span possibly hold?

The answer lies in the peculiar and deeply symbolic relationship between the royal family and the people of the Osita Kingdom.

Osita was a kingdom unlike any other. On the surface, it appeared ruled by a king, yet in truth, the people governed much of their own lives. Customs, trade, and even local disputes were often settled without royal decree. This was not born from rebellion or neglect, but from understanding. The people had long realized that their king, Osita, held little interest in ruling them at all.

Osita was never a king by ambition. He was, first and foremost, a husband and a father, a man whose world revolved entirely around his wife and children. The prosperity and stability of the kingdom were not the result of his desire to lead a people, but rather the consequence of his relentless effort to build a civilization safe enough to shelter his family. Walls were raised, enemies were crushed, and laws were enforced not for glory or legacy, but so that those he loved could live without fear.

The people understood this truth, and they accepted it.

To them, it was no heresy to say that Queen Amina was the true leader of the Osita Kingdom. She was the one who presided over the court, who listened to the cries of the desperate and the grievances of the wronged. It was her voice that offered judgment, mercy, and resolution. Where Osita's presence loomed like a distant storm, Amina was the steady sun, seen, felt, and relied upon.

They adored Queen Amina.

Yet they feared King Osita.

On countless occasions, he had made it painfully clear how little he cared for the people themselves. He neither sought their love nor valued their approval. And yet, intertwined with that fear was an unshakable respect. Osita was strength incarnate, the shield that stood between the kingdom and annihilation. His indifference did not diminish the safety he provided; if anything, it made it more absolute. He protected the kingdom not because it was his duty, but because it was the foundation upon which his family stood.

This, in turn, elevated Queen Amina and her children to the highest priority in the hearts of the people.

The royal family was so deeply loved and so thoroughly protected that the kingdom itself became a place where royalty could be seen growing, not hidden behind walls. The people watched the younger members of the royal family grow year by year, not through distant announcements, but with their own eyes.

Princes and princesses could sometimes be found running through the streets, laughter echoing between stalls, playing freely among the common folk. They joined in childish mischief, stealing fruit from vendors only to flee in exaggerated panic, laughing as the merchants shouted after them, knowing full well no harm was meant. These moments were not scandals, but cherished memories shared by the city.

The people also witnessed Queen Amina's hand in their upbringing. They saw her scold mischievous princes and princesses in public when lines were crossed, firm yet loving, never sparing them simply because of their blood. It was not uncommon for townsfolk to see the queen herself walking the markets, a familiar presence rather than a distant figure, selecting goods with her own hands. To many merchants, she was not just their queen, but a regular customer whose taste and habits they had come to know.

This relationship between crown and commoner was kept pure by mutual understanding. The people knew that as long as their queen and her family remained safe, their own safety was assured in return. The king's protection of the kingdom was inseparable from the well-being of his family. So long as they were loved and unharmed, Osita's strength would stand unchallenged, and the great kingdom would continue as it always had.

It was through this closeness that the people also came to know of the queen's more personal passions.

Queen Amina possessed a deep fondness for hunting, often venturing out alone into the wilds beyond the city. She did not do so for spectacle or ceremony, nor did she bring entourages to bear witness. What she hunted, she prepared herself. With her own hands, she would cook the meat and present it as a meal to Osita, as a wife offering something born of care and skill.

To the people, this too was a quiet reassurance.

The queen who listened to their pleas, who raised her children among them, and who walked their streets without fear was the same woman who could step into the wilderness alone and return unharmed. And the king who rarely spoke to them directly was the same man who ensured that such a woman and such a family would never fall.

The queen's hunting hobby continued peacefully, until the day she returned from the forest grievously wounded.

Her injuries were severe enough that word spread through the kingdom before she herself reached the palace gates. Healers were summoned, prayers were whispered, and fear gripped the people, not only for their beloved queen, but for what this would mean once the king learned of it.

What followed forced everyone to confront a truth they had never fully understood.

They had always known that Osita loved Queen Amina. He had never taken concubines, never entertained other women, and never hidden his devotion. In a world where kings surrounded themselves with excess and indulgence, Osita remained unmoved. Yet even with this knowledge, the people had underestimated the depth of that love.

The day Osita chose to act, the kingdom itself trembled.

A roar, inhuman, primal, and filled with fury erupted from the palace, shaking stone and soul alike. Those who heard it would later swear it reached into their bones, freezing blood and stealing breath. Without escort or command, the king departed alone, striding toward the forest where the queen had carried out her hunt.

What followed was not a battle.

It was a massacre.

The forest was torn apart as though a calamity had descended upon it. Trees were uprooted, the land split open, and the blood of magical beasts flowed like rivers through shattered earth. Three Beast Kings creatures worshipped and feared in equal measure met their end at Osita's hands. When the king finally emerged, he was barely intact himself, his body bearing wounds that would have ended any lesser being.

Yet he did not stop.

Having reduced the forest to ruin, Osita began to rebuild it.

With the full force of the kingdom's magical reserves and powerhouses at his command, he reshaped the land. Hunters and adventurers were dispatched across the realm to capture living beasts of every kind, delivering them to the king. Under his will, the forest was remolded its creatures domesticated, its dangers controlled, its balance rewritten.

All of it was done for one purpose.

He forged a forest where his queen could hunt without risking her life.

A wilderness bound by his strength, where no creature could rise beyond his control, and no threat could ever again lay a hand upon her. To the people, this act was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. They realized clearly then that the kingdom itself was not the object of Osita's devotion, it was merely a tool.

Even the beast that had wounded Queen Amina did not escape his wrath.

Osita skinned it with his own hands. Its flesh was used to prepare a soup, one he cooked himself. During the queen's recovery, he fed it to her personally, each motion deliberate and silent, as if sealing a vow carved in blood and bone.

That day, the people of the Osita Kingdom understood even more, that as long as Queen Amina lived and was cherished, the kingdom would stand unbroken beneath the shadow of a love powerful enough to destroy and remake the world itself.

That incident opened the eyes of many within the kingdom. A question began to linger in the hearts of the people, unspoken yet heavy:

What if the queen had died that day? What if she had met her end in the forest?

The answers they imagined were far more terrifying than any enemy invasion. Few dared to voice them aloud, yet all understood the truth. If Queen Amina had fallen, the king's grief would not have been contained by walls or borders. Whatever remained of the kingdom afterward would no longer resemble the Osita they knew.

And so, action was taken immediately.

What began as fear became resolve. From that moment onward, the safety of the queen and by extension, the royal family was no longer merely the king's concern. It became the responsibility of the entire kingdom. Thus was born the foundation of the unparalleled security Osita is known for today.

Alongside these changes, a new event was introduced, one that transformed terror into tradition.