In the deep stone halls of Neval, the night cast its heavy shadows upon the windows, and the silence was broken only by the sound of
a royal pen scratching
parchment.
King Julius, the Golden Lion, sat at his stone desk and wrote:
"To the King of the Iron Kingdom,
[Content of the letter...]
He sealed the letter with his royal crest—a golden lion—and handed it to a messenger clad in black.
"Deliver it..."
As soon as the messenger left, a hidden door in the stone walls opened, and the sole witch of the palace entered.
The witch took her seat.
Standing beside the king was a man—silent and terrifying.
No one knew his real name, but they called him the Silent Shadow.
A warrior shrouded entirely in black**, his body wrapped in a strange weapon: **a long, serrated chain,
ending in a sharp blade.
Like the tail of a venomous serpent.
A strange figure, voiceless—**that boy whose tongue was cut out years ago.
Julius had never forgotten him. He reshaped him... trained him, fed him, and taught him,
making him one of his closest weapons.
Julius closed the door behind them, looked at the witch and the silent warrior, then said:
"The coming battle will be pivotal in human history. This is the war that will be remembered.
In the streets and homes,
it will be written in golden ink as the greatest victory of the Kingdom of Neval.
*There will be everything... blood, screams, glory... but no room for defeat."
*Win, and we win, then we dominate and we rule.
The witch, Caitlin, said in her hoarse voice:
"I smell treachery creeping through the walls... Trust no one, my lord king."
The king replied with a sharp look:
*The lion was not created as a prey and he will not think like it.*
*We must extend our control—there is no room for mistake.*
*There are filthy minds conspiring in the shadows... and we must burn them before their poison takes root."*
The black warrior stepped forward without a word.
Julius smiled faintly and said:
"You will be my eyes. The hand that does not tremble. If anyone betrays us... you know what must be done."
*Even a lion needs Allies.*
Then he turned and walked to the window, gazing at the dark sky and counting the stars.
As if through the stars, he could see his victories.
A full day had passed since the messenger of the Kingdom of Nival departed, carrying King Julius's letter. He crossed the plains and climbed the mountains until he finally reached the gates of
**the Iron Kingdom**—a cold and silent land, where the only sounds were the clanging of iron and the polishing of armor.
The streets appeared copper-red, and the scent of iron morphed into shapes under the rhythm of hammering and forging.
The kingdom flourished, for in this era of peace, the crafting of swords had shifted from iron to tools that sustained life rather than ended it.
At the grand gate, the letter was taken directly to **the Iron King**, the old ruler who had reached **eighty years of age**, yet his eyes still held the sharpness of a warrior, and his mind was more fearsome than a thousand swords.
He sat upon his high throne, leaning on a cane made from the bones of an ancient dragon, and began to read Julius's letter.
Seconds passed before he suddenly burst into laughter.
A deep laugh echoed through the hall, causing the guards to glance at each other uneasily.
He laughed for minutes, then finally whispered mockingly:
"Interesting."