…The piercing screams had risen to such a crescendo that even the stormy winds seemed ashamed. The labor pains were unbearable, and Queen Alder writhed in excruciating agony. The Sacred Tree, as if to honor this woman’s endurance, had lowered its branches. The sky, once bright, had now darkened with storm clouds, as if mourning the pain itself.
One of the midwives, her face smeared with the queen’s blessed blood, said in a trembling voice, “Your Majesty, please hold on a little longer.” The queen, her voice raspy and full of pain, replied, “I know… It feels as if even my child doesn’t want to come into this wretched world...” She had reached the limits of her endurance.
Finally, the boy was born, but he made no sound. The queen also lay motionless. The atmosphere grew overwhelmingly tense. The boy was brought to his mother, but the queen gave no reaction. Suddenly, the baby began to cry; not to show he was alive, but as if mourning the loss of his mother. King Atrius, hearing the cries, rushed to his wife’s side, but his smile froze in place. Queen Alder was gone.
The king cradled his lifeless wife and cried out in grief, “Alder! Wake up! Please, come see... our son is waiting for you! Please… you know I’m terrible with children. Please, wake up… Alderrrr!” Every member of the Legendary race knelt in honor of the queen they had lost, shouting her name in unison. The Sacred Tree shed some of its blossoms at the queen’s feet. The sky let out a thunderous roar, as if weeping in shared sorrow.
The child, now cleaned, continued to cry. After endless sobs, Atrius rose, his face blank, and approached his son. Holding him gently, he said, “My son… my dear son… I know you want your mother’s embrace, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being an unworthy father and husband. Your name shall be Arian, as your mother chose—a name meaning pure and noble.”
Turning to the assembled people, he declared in a loud voice, “Today, we have witnessed tragedy. But we cannot remain in mourning forever. A great battle lies ahead. I have lost my wife, and you your queen, but I have a son, and his name is Arian. He is your crown prince. Please, guide him as you have guided me.”
The people fell into a heavy silence, as if they resented Arian, believing him the cause of the queen’s death—a curse upon them. King Atrius cradled Arian and walked away, heading toward a dark, misty forest. He vanished from sight. His face was wet—whether from rain or tears was unclear—but he pressed his heir close as he approached a small cabin deep in the woods. The child wept incessantly, and the rain visibly soaked the king’s cloak, now stained with his wife’s blood. Arian’s cries echoed through the forest, yet no creature dared move in the presence of Atrius.
The cabin door creaked open, and an elderly woman emerged. Her radiant skin and amber eyes reflected her wisdom. Atrius approached, bowed his head, and spoke softly, “Zynarfil... I must leave. Please, take care of Arian.” Zynarfil bowed deeply, mourning the queen’s death, and took Arian into her arms. With sadness, she replied, “Rest assured, I will raise your son as if he were my own. Now go.” Atrius, his eyes lifeless and his smile hollow, nodded and left.
Meanwhile, murmurs spread throughout the allied forces’ camp. Soldiers whispered endlessly until a commander roared, “What’s all this racket? Do you think this is a women’s bathhouse? Shut up and get back to your posts!” A soldier hesitantly reported, “Sir, a messenger pigeon just arrived. It says Queen Alder has passed, and Atrius has vanished.” The commander snarled, “I know! What now? Should I send him my condolences?” Ashamed and bitter, the soldiers dispersed.
Inside the royal tent, a discussion was underway. One king suggested, “King Andreas, now is the perfect time to attack. The grief of losing their queen has weakened the Legendaries.” King Andreas responded, “I know, but remember, a wounded lion is most dangerous. What do you think, King Dracencius and King Eldinor?”
Dracencius and Eldinor paused before agreeing, “We stand with King Raxleus. Let’s mobilize our forces. Besides, our armies outnumber the entire Legendary race by forty to one. Victory is assured.”
After a moment of thought, Andreas ordered, “Very well, we prepare for battle to extinguish this race once and for all. Raxleus, your sword-wielding vampires and human warriors will form the front line. Dracencius, have twenty of your warriors transform into dragons and attack from the skies. The rest of your warriors, skilled in close combat, will form support teams in pairs for the front line. Eldinor, instruct your elf archers to ride the dragons and provide aerial cover while your magicians split into two groups—one for the rear, and one to lead alongside me on the ground.”
The three kings nodded and departed to implement the strategy. Meanwhile, Atrius returned to his people. During his absence, the queen had been laid in a coffin crafted from the Sacred Tree’s branches. He mourned her one last time and called the people together.
After a moment of silence, Atrius spoke with a commanding voice, “People! Today, we have witnessed a grievous event—the death of my wife. But we cannot wallow in sorrow forever. In a few hours, we will face one of history’s greatest battles. I cannot promise victory, as I have no reason left to live. Yet, I thank you all for standing by me in these dark times. Now, as not a king, but as one of you, I ask that you leave. For if you stay, death awaits you.
But if you choose to remain, know that we fight not for revenge or conquest, but for honor and dignity.”
As Atrius concluded, the Legendaries—gathered around the Sacred Tree, as their traditions demanded during the birth of a crown prince—erupted in unified cries, “Long live the king! Long live Queen Alder!”
Atrius gave a faint smile before resolutely commanding, “Now, soldiers, come with me to plan our strategy.” He approached the Sacred Tree and rested his head against its trunk.
In a soft voice, he whispered, “Today, both you and I meet our end. But fear not, for Arian will return one day, and you will be reborn. As for me... I will not. So please, keep my memories safe for him،It seemed as though the Sacred Tree gently swayed in response, as if understanding Atrius’s thoughts and feelings.
Atrius gathered with his soldiers in the camp tent, strategizing for the battle. With a firm voice, he addressed one of the commanders, “Commander, the enemy’s forces will number close to 40,000, while our entire population is merely 1,000, of which only 560 are fighters. But remember, the strength of each of us is equal to four of them, so do not worry.”
He continued, “Given the dark and cloudy sky, the vampires will be at their peak strength. Therefore, I expect they will lead the first wave of the attack. Send a few men now to set locking traps on the battlefield to slow them down.
The other major threat is the dragons. I estimate only twenty or thirty of them will shift into their dragon forms and attack from the sky. Do not worry; I will personally handle their aerial forces. As for the rest attacking on the ground, they will be yours to deal with.
There’s nothing else special. Quickly, go and prepare for the battle, and please leave me alone for a while.”
The soldiers left their king alone, overwhelmed by a profound sense of sympathy for him. How could one endure so much misfortune and still stand tall against fate?
After hours of preparation, the battle finally began. The battlefield was filled with emotions of doubt, anxiety, and fear on both sides. On the allied force’s side, Andreas, Dracencius, Raxleus, and Eldinor were all mounted on their horses behind the front lines, staring at the battlefield with determined gazes.
In contrast, Atrius, as the leader, stood on foot shoulder-to-shoulder with his soldiers. His steady and determined gaze inspired the hearts of those around him. Emotions swirled within him; not only was he thinking of his soldiers, but also of his beloved Arian and the legacy he must leave behind.
A cool breeze swept through the battlefield, intensifying the tension. Both sides approached each other slowly, the sound of their own heartbeats louder than that of the impending war. Atrius took a deep breath, turned to his soldiers, and said, “Today, none of us will grieve a second time. There is no retreat; only the path ahead is open because behind us are our children.”
With these words, he sought to lift their spirits and ready himself for what lay ahead.
He then turned to face the enemies and declared in a loud voice, “I am Atrius, the 20th King of the Randera Dynasty, the Keeper of Balance. I stand before you today. I assure you, if you retreat now, you will live; if not, you will die a gruesome death. Four kings, it would be wise for you to abandon your folly, for this battle will disrupt the balance of the world!”
Dracencius roared in fury, “You’re the fool, Atrius! Look around you! You stand with only 600 against our 40,000! Do you really think you can win and maintain balance? What a ridiculous joke! Your own Legendary race is the disruptor of balance!”
Dracencius glanced at his soldiers and shouted, “Attack! Let’s show them how we deal with a false king and his pitiful army!”
The battlefield quaked with the roar of warriors and the clash of chains and weapons. Atrius looked at his soldiers, seeing the passion for the fight burning in their eyes. He knew today would be a historic day. With a heart full of hope, he stepped forward and shouted, “Together, we fight for honor and freedom! Today, we will prove that the power of faith and unity can overcome any force!”
Thus, the two armies surged toward each other, sealing their fate and the fate of the world in this decisive battle.
Atrius strode forward resolutely, drawing his longsword from its sheath. With a simple swing, the sky trembled, casting doubt among the enemy forces. A yellow light radiated from his sword, strengthening the resolve of his soldiers once more.
He infused his sword with mana and launched his first strike with immense power. With a single swift blow, several enemies fell to the ground, the stench of blood and death filling the air. The dragons and enemy elf archers turned their gazes toward Atrius and attacked him.
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