The sky was darker that afternoon, as the desert witnessed a fierce battle between the Girivara of the Eastern Bloc and the Ordo Sangcala of the Western Bloc. The clashing of swords, the shouts of warriors, the smell of blood, dust, sweat, and the smoke of death—all combined, echoed in the field of destruction.
The Eastern Bloc, the Kingdom of Girivara, led by King Surya Raksa, was holding off an all-out onslaught from the Ordo Sangcala—the ruthless rulers of the West led by King Malwapati.
This War was born out of King Malwapati's great ambition to conquer the entire World. With thorough preparation and cruel strategy, the Warriors of Sangcala successfully cornered the warriors of Girivara to the border of their last stronghold.
However, inside the resting tent, King Malwapati kept his anger private. He remembered his long lost daughter—and worse, who took her away was no random person: Prince Arya, one of the potential heirs to the throne of Girivara, an eternal enemy of the Kingdom of the Sangcala. And now, this news has come to light.
"Your Majesty, I wish to report something. The princess has been spotted in the midst of Girivara city... She has just given birth to a son," a spy reported to King Malwapati, on his knees.
Malwapati's face turned red. His eyes bulged with emotion. "That son…is a stain. Half the blood of the Sangcala and half the blood of Girivara flowed. That child was a disgrace to the Sangcala's kingdom."
He stood up from his throne with a burning look in his eyes. "Send the main army. Don't just burn the city, quickly find and eliminate Prince Arya's flesh and blood, make sure the child and the Prince are dead, and bring my daughter back."
Girivara Area
The eastern sky was ablaze. Arrows of fire darted between Girivara's strongholds, trying to defend its territory from the onslaught of the west. The screams of warriors and the clink of weapons blended into one. Girivara was on the edge of destruction.
A messenger from the general rushed into the main room. His body was covered in dust and blood. "Your Majesty! Our troops have retreated to the last stronghold. We can't hold them back any longer. What are your orders?"
King Surya Raksa stood up from his throne. His eyes were red. His chest tightened at the news that his troops had been pushed so far back. "There is no more time," he said quietly, but firmly. "I will go directly to the battlefield. Hang in there... even if it's just for a little while."
Sangcala Tent
On the other side of the battle, from the top of a barren hill, two figures stood calmly behind the massive army that flooded the land of Girivara.
"Sir, it seems that your dreams are about to come true," said a general—known as the Bull of the Desert—while smiling at the flames raging in the opposing fortress.
King Malwapati of the Ordo Sangcala did not answer. He exhaled slowly. Black smoke wafted from his tall, burly body as he stood proudly. A long sword hung from his left waist. His eyes were sharp, but his lips were curved in a smile.
"Look, Surya..." he murmured under his breath and then resumed his speech, "Your kingdom, your people... everything will be mine," ending his words with a big smile.
Girivara Area
King Surya Raksa stood in the palace courtyard, his hands behind his body. His eyes looked up into the sky. From his body came a golden yellow light, slowly extending and rising skyward, forming a dragon made of his own energy.
At the same time, the last stronghold on the Girivara border was about to collapse. The remaining warriors began to lose hope. But suddenly, a golden light illuminated the eastern sky. The captains and wounded troops looked up into the sky. Among the puffs of smoke and dust, the silhouette of a huge dragon seemed to hover high—shining like a streak of moonlight.
"Look at that...!" one of the soldiers exclaimed. "Dragon... golden dragon!"
Small cheers began to be heard. The hope that had been extinguished slowly rekindled. "That's the King's Heavenly Dragon, hold on for a while. The King is coming!" an officer shouted.
The fortress that had almost collapsed rumbled again with renewed vigor. They gripped their weapons tighter. Despite their tired bodies and wet wounds, the light in the sky had revived their resolve to survive.
In the distance, King Surya stood proudly on top of the Sky Dragon's head. He stretched his arms out to the sides, groaning softly but powerfully. Around the dragon, thousands of tiny balls of energy began to appear—shimmering and slowly growing in size.
"The Thousand Meteor Punch," said the king.
The balls then swooped down like a meteor shower towards the enemy troops still besieging the outside of the fort.
The Desert Bull, as the Sangcala's general, could only stand still as he witnessed the massive attack from the sky, his eyes widened, his body stiffened for a moment and then said: "What kind of attack is this?"
The nearest soldier looked up with a pained face. One ball of light swooped towards the front row, struck hard and exploded with dazzling light. The shockwave swept over dozens of people at once—throwing their bodies in all directions like dry leaves swept by the wind.
"Run!" a soldier shouted.
Panic broke out. The originally tight line dispersed in an instant. Soldiers scattered, trying to avoid the point where the energy ball fell. But no one knew where to run—because the light came from all directions, slashing the earth ferociously.
Explosion after explosion was heard. The ground was lifted, dust soared, and screams mixed with the smell of burning flesh.
In the distance, a dark aura exploded from behind the Sangcala army. The sky trembled as black pressure shot up through the clouds, forming a huge gaping gap between the clouds.
"You've come at last..." murmured King Malwapati. It was as if he had been waiting for a long time—his eternal rival.
A dense aura like black mist surrounded his body. The ground around him cracked. Dark lightning flashed up into the open sky, as if signaling the start of a true battle.
King Surya saw it above the Sky Dragon's head and interpreted the dark aura as King Malwapati's determination to challenge him. He looked down, directly at the source of the dark aura.
"You still haven't changed, Malwapati," said King Surya.
The Sky Dragon now swooped towards Malwapati who had the Desert Bull by his side. Now they stare at each other from a distance, with a pressure that can be felt by the soldiers around.
And the real war... has just begun.
The attacks from the sky had not subsided, even though King Surya was now standing before King Malwapati. In the distance, the last stronghold was rocked by a boom of energy and an explosion of earth. All eyes were turned upward—to the two kings who seemed about to destroy the earth and the sky.
But in the midst of the chaos, another danger intruded: a troop broke through from an unexpected direction, followed by four others.
Jayasena—King Malwapati's trusted captain—led the horsemen through the city's outer defenses. They came with a mission.
Their order was only one: "Kill Arya. Kill her illegitimate grandson. And bring the Princess back."
The Jayasena troops made their way through the deserted streets of the city, slipping between the rubble and ruins. Among the burnt houses, they zeroed in on one place... the mansion at the southern end of the city—the place where Arya was last seen.
ARYA HOUSE
Inside the house, Arya was holding tightly the little baby she had not yet named. The baby was calm, as if unaware that the world around her was in a huge conflict, and another danger was targeting her life.
Beside him, Princess Larasinta—Arya's wife and daughter of King Malwapati—lay weakly on the bed. Her face was pale, her breathing short and heavy. The wounds of childbirth had not fully healed.
Suddenly, the sound of horses' hooves could be heard in the distance—fast, firm, and approaching.
Arya and Larasinta looked at each other. Their hearts beat faster, their chests felt tight and their breathing became heavier.
"Is that... the royal army?" asked Larasinta in a trembling voice. "Or... the Sangcala army?"
Arya didn't have time to answer.
CRASH! The gate of their house was broken through from the outside. Wood splinters flew. The guards screamed—but only briefly before their bodies collapsed, cut down mercilessly.
Then came Jayasena's voice. "Pfh! Pesky nobodies—bothering me! Arya! Get out!"
Arya gasped. That voice... rude, arrogant, and full of confidence. She remembered someone from the enemy side, with whom she had often clashed.
"Perhaps the man outside is Jayasena..." Arya muttered under her breath, then continued his speech, "It's Sangcala's army, I'll take care of him." He said to his wife, as he handed his son to Larasinta's lap.
Arya went out confidently, even though she knew she was now facing off alone against an elite group of Sangcala troops.
Now Arya and the Jayasena army were facing off in front of her courtyard. The piercing gazes of both sides, harboring anger, etched a determination to defeat and subvert each other.