“Let us begin the meeting regarding Ephemerus’ 66th Once-In-Every-Four-Years Game to obtain this Ephemeral Crown, that is rightfully mine.”   The king lazily sank his lean body against the prestigious red velvety throne. He was twirling the golden crown in his hand, showcasing amazing balancing skills with one finger. The crown was made of pure gold, coated with the strongest material in the land known as Barinium, and embellished with colorful rubies and sapphires on every side. The most important part about the crown was the fact—or a goblin’s popular opinion—that its elegance was enhanced only when king R.O.P. wore it, right where it belonged.   “I wonder why it’s not silver,” the king remarked as if it was truly one of the world’s greatest mystery. He liked to be anti-mainstream.   “Because silver is second place,” The eldest crown prince, Daeyang, of the royal elf family spoke. His hair had some streaks of silvery golden hair strands, a symbolism to the royal elf family. He had a rather short stature, and was often mistaken as a goblin if it weren’t for his visible pointy elf ears.   “What?” The king stared at him weirdly.   “You get gold when you’re first place, and silver when you’re second place,” Daeyang explained.   King R.O.P. seemed to consider the suggestion and stared at the crown in his hand. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry indeed. He wondered what it would look like if it was shaped like poop. The idea of having a poop shaped jewelry sitting on top of his head was amusing.   “Anyway, we are here to discuss the denouncing of your throne.” Daeyang continued, knowing the king was very easily distracted.   “Ah ah, I do not like that word,” R.O.P. held his finger up with squinted eyes. He began wiggling his feet over the throne’s armrest. It wasn’t exactly the most majestic pose to find a king in, but he was the king and excused himself for his inappropriate behavior. “The goblins might win again this year.”   “Don’t be so proud of yourself. The werewolves are sending out some unique contestants,”said P-Dragon, the next ruler in line of the wolf pack. Everyone wondered why he even called himself P-Dragon if he was a werewolf. Shouldn’t he at least be called P-Wolf? He seemed normal as a human being: tall built, too handsome for his own good, and rather hairy. None have encountered him in his beastly appearance.   “The elves also chose the wisest ones,” Daeyang chimed in, wanting to show off his race too.   “You said that four years ago, but one of your wisest ones got tricked into drinking poison by that goblin girl,” P-Dragon said, snickering a laugh of mockery. He successfully insulted the eldest elf prince in line for the throne.   R.O.P smacked his lips together to produce a weird waterdrop falling kind of sound, just because he could. With the different races being so confident about their own contestants, he wondered whether the goblins would be as good as the team he sent out four years ago. They brought him victory.   Then he turned to the human Jeungri who sat still on his chair beside the elf. The young guy had absolutely nothing to brag about regarding his contestants. Maybe the humans weren’t any good.   “It will be different this year,” Daeyang’s voice resonated. And one couldn’t help but wonder how different it truly would become.   Every four years, the land of Ephemerus would hold a grand event or game whereby every race would send out four contestants to participate. The method of selection was up to interpretation by every leader of the five races. A total of twenty people will have to battle each other out to death in order to obtain the Ephemeral Crown. Whichever race survived the bloody game at the end would give permission to the royal bloodline to reign over the entire land of Ephemerus.   It was clear by now that the goblins, humans, elves, werewolves, and wendigos disliked each other. They were only stuck together in one room because the leaders of each race had no choice but to go in accordance with the formal procedure of these dreaded meetings. Otherwise, being seen together was very much out of the norm. Even after the land’s prolonged existence, the leaders never believed in unity among the races.   A loud unannounced noise shifted their attention. The pristine white door pushed open as the expensive wood swept against the marbled flooring. A dark creature who clothed himself in an equally dark attire entered the room with a malicious smirk on his scarred face.   “Good evening, my lovelies. I see you have started the meeting without me,” J-Lite announced grimly. The leader of the wendigos finally arrived.   “You are late,” Daeyang muttered, unamused.   “One of the Paladins was holding me back. Thought I was attacking a human being, but I would never,” J-Lite showed off his grim pretentiousness. He gracefully waltzed his way to the seat on the far end of the conference table, opposite of the king. Of course, a wendigo would never apologize for one’s mistake, always twisting the truth to make themselves appear righteous. “So what have I missed?”   Rather than humoring hi