In a literary world saturated with kingdoms forged by battle and ruled by sword, Koan Volume 1 by Lucio Pascua dares to imagine a different kind of power—one rooted in wisdom, diplomacy, and a radical rejection of violence. At the heart of this vision is El-Javaz, a philosopher-king whose leadership redefines what it means to rule.

El-Javaz’s kingdom is not a utopia because it’s perfect, but because it is intentionally designed to foster human potential. Artisans, scientists, alchemists, musicians, and philosophers all live within the protection of towering walls not built to keep enemies out, but to create space for creativity, dialogue, and shared knowledge. In his realm, even mathematicians and musicians feud—not with weapons, but with ideas.

The most remarkable part? This peace is not passive. It’s not the result of naivety or luck. It is, instead, the result of an active, disciplined philosophy. El-Javaz believes that every citizen has a role to play in shaping society, and he invests in education, language, health, and the arts with a meticulous hand. War, in his eyes, is not just destructive—it is inefficient. It disrupts the systems that allow families to eat, create, and thrive. To him, the ultimate power is the ability to maintain balance without shedding blood.

Yet, El-Javaz is not blind to threat. When faced with the aggression of Queen Zarina, his daughter Javaz urges him to prepare for war. But El-Javaz refuses, not out of pride or denial, but because he truly believes there is always another way. His brand of leadership doesn’t ignore danger—it simply refuses to meet it on its terms.

This philosophy touches something profoundly human. In a time when conflict often feels inevitable—between nations, within families, even in our own minds—El-Javaz stands as a reminder that peace requires both imagination and effort. That strength doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it listens. Sometimes it teaches. Sometimes it waits.

Koan Volume 1 gives us a kingdom that thrives not in spite of peace, but because of it. In doing so, Lucio Pascua offers a timely reminder: what we choose to build speaks louder than what we destroy.