While all the soldiers were impressive, each radiating an aura of raw brutality and power, none among them was as imposing as the man who rode at the forefront. Towering over the rest atop a massive seven-meter-tall tiger with black-and-white striped fur, he commanded attention.
The beast’s paws alone were large enough to crush a grown man, and its roar could shake the very ground. The man atop it, nearly two and a half meters tall, was the embodiment of unbridled strength and vitality. His tanned, weathered skin bore the scars of countless battles, each mark a testament to the life of a warrior.
He wore a cloak made from the pelt of a dire wolf, its massive teeth still attached and hanging menacingly along the edges. His bare chest was a canvas of scars, each one a reminder of a battle fought and won. His sharp, piercing gaze could intimidate even the most seasoned warriors.
The aura this man exuded was not that of a mere soldier but of a warlord who had clawed his way to the top through sheer will and power.
This man was Viserin, King of the Turkin Kingdom. He glanced at the thousands of soldiers that had followed him here, their eyes focused and sharp, but there was also apprehension in them. Rumors about the Xoas Kingdom had spread across the Turking Kingdom, with the wildest of them saying the Xaos King defeated a God.
Viseris knew the importance of morale, so his voice boomed across the field the next second as he addressed his soldiers. "This land stands before us, but it is not yet ours. We have come to see if these people are worthy of our respect or if they will fall like all others before us. Stand strong, my warriors. We will show them the might of Turkin, whether with words or with blood!"
The soldiers roared in response, their voices echoing across the plains and making the ground tremble, their concerns vanishing. Their beasts snarled and pawed at the earth, eager for action. The air was thick with anticipation, and all eyes were on the horizon, awaiting the arrival of their counterparts from the Xaos Kingdom.
Viserin leaned forward slightly, patting the head of his giant tiger as he scanned the distance. Despite his appearance of raw brutality, his mind was sharp. He knew this meeting would be crucial.
If it led to conflict, he had no doubt his warriors would fight until the end. But if negotiation could secure what he wanted without unnecessary bloodshed, he would take it. He was no fool.
’I wonder just how strong is the Xaos King?’ While rationally made him seek diplomacy, a part of Viserin hoped the strangers would refuse diplomacy—a part that craved the thrill of battle, the rush of blood in his veins, and the satisfaction of crushing a powerful enemy.
A grizzled old man seated atop a massive bear exuded wisdom despite his relaxed posture. He turned to King Viserin, his voice calm and sagacious. "Calm your heart, my king. Whatever may happen, we must enter this meeting with a clear mind, free from bias. If you seek battle, you will find reasons for it, even if they are not real."
King Viserin’s battle-hungry gaze softened as he sighed. "I understand, old man." Few could temper Viserin’s bloodlust, but this old man was one of them. He had been Viserin’s mentor for years, guiding him to his current power and preventing him from making grave mistakes on more than one occasion.
"Hahaha, Mark, don’t worry our king unnecessarily." A booming voice interrupted, the hearty laughter coming from the man on Viserin’s left. "Look at our strength! I’m sure the Xaos Kingdom will avoid a fight at any cost and offer us a treaty that will benefit us greatly."
The speaker, a man in his fifties, was the embodiment of physical might. His rippling muscles radiated vitality and energy, his presence imposing. Like Mark, this middle-aged man commanded great respect. He was Viserin’s most trusted general, a warrior who had saved the king’s life more than once on the battlefield.
The contrast between the two advisors was striking. Mark, the voice of reason and wisdom, balanced the general’s perspective, which saw everything in terms of power and might. Together, they provided the balance a strong king required.
As the two men continued their conversation, a soldier rushed toward the group, breaking military formation. Such a breach would normally result in severe punishment, but neither the king nor his general spoke, recognizing the man as Keron, their scout, whose Gift allowed him to gaze far into the distance.
Kneeling before King Viserin, Keron’s face was pale, his breathing labored as if he had witnessed something unimaginable. "My king," he gasped, voice trembling, "I have seen the forces of the Xaos Kingdom."
The atmosphere shifted immediately. The lighthearted tone from moments earlier vanished as King Viserin, Mark, and the general adopted severe expressions. Keron was a seasoned soldier, not one easily shaken, so his alarm was enough to stir unease.
King Viserin’s gaze sharpened as he asked the question on everyone’s mind. "How many?"
Keron answered without hesitation. "Five thousand men, my king."
The general’s face twisted with surprise and amusement. "Just five thousand?" he scoffed. "Their numbers are a tenth of ours. What is there to fear?"
Keron quickly shook his head, his voice faltering. "They are not soldiers... they are not even human." He paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "They are demonic machines."
The words hung in the air like a storm cloud, casting a chill over the king and his advisors. Mark, usually calm, furrowed his brow. The general, typically dismissive of most threats, clenched his fists, his expression hardening.
"Demonic machines?" King Viserin repeated slowly, his voice low and measured.
Keron nodded, his face still pale. "Yes, my king. That is the only way I can describe them. They march in perfect unison, their movements precise, as if guided by a single mind. Their eyes... they burn with an unnatural fire. Each one radiates energy akin to that of powerful demons. They are not mere soldiers—they are something far worse."