The night air was heavy, thick with the scent of smoke and iron. Beneath the silver gaze of the moon, an army moved across the southern territories—silent, disciplined, relentless. They were no ordinary soldiers. Twisted shadows clung to their armor, whispering in tongues forgotten by men and elves alike. At their center rode a figure cloaked in blackened steel, his helm adorned with jagged horns that caught the moonlight like a crown of obsidian. His name was whispered among the corrupted as General Malrik, one of Varyon's chosen.
His presence was suffocating. Trees bent under the pressure of his aura, animals fled before his march, and even the stars above seemed dimmer. Where Malrik walked, corruption followed, spreading like ink through the soil, darkening roots, leaves, and stones alike.
Kael had been watching him for hours. Perched upon a crumbling tower, wings folded tight against his back, his golden eyes followed every movement of the enemy host. He did not move to strike yet. Instead, he studied. Malrik's soldiers moved with precision, their discipline unnaturally perfect. They did not speak, did not falter, did not even seem alive.
[Elite threat confirmed: Malrik, Shadow General]
[Commanding 7,000 corrupted infantry, supported by shade-beasts and wraith archers]
[Direct confrontation risk: high]
Kael ignored the dry prompt. He already knew. His gaze swept the enemy formation, noting the gaps, the weaknesses, the vulnerabilities in supply lines. He could see the tremor in the earth as their boots struck, the faint shimmer of warding magic binding them together. Malrik was not just leading an army—he was part of it. His will flowed through every soldier like poison in the veins of a beast.
Below, Nyxara shifted uneasily. "This one feels… different," she whispered, her voice low. "The air burns around him. It is as if the shadows themselves bow."
Aurielle clenched her staff, light rippling faintly along its crystal head. "This is no ordinary commander. His essence reeks of the Abyss."
Selara tilted her head, sharp eyes fixed on Malrik. "If Kael means to face him, then this will not be a simple hunt. It will be war."
Kael said nothing. His silence was answer enough.
---
In Altherion
King Rhaelen received word of Malrik's movements at dawn. Scouts brought reports of entire villages swallowed by corruption, their people vanishing without trace. The council chamber echoed with voices, generals demanding immediate action.
"Seven thousand troops? Shadow-bound? This is beyond anything we've faced!" one cried.
Another slammed his fist upon the table. "If this Malrik crosses the river, he will have the heartlands at his mercy. We must send the full strength of the king's guard!"
But Rhaelen raised a hand, silencing them. His eyes were grim, his voice steady. "If this Malrik marches, then he marches into more than human lands. Already, forces stir that do not belong to us. There are whispers of a golden-eyed shadow across the battlefields. If they are true… then we may not be fighting alone."
---
In the Elven Kingdom
Empress Lyrielle traced runes of protection across a great map of the forests. Her advisors murmured, speaking of Malrik's advance.
"He pushes south, not west," one said.
Lyrielle's lips curved faintly. "Then he wishes to test the human lands first. Good. Let them bear the brunt of his arrogance." Her eyes flicked to the map, where faint lights indicated Kael's movements. She did not yet know his name, but she knew his presence. Ancient energy moved through the world, balancing, correcting, testing.
"This unseen dragon," she whispered, "he watches even now. I wonder… will he strike?"
---
In the Dwarven Mountains
Deep below stone and fire, the smiths of Korrim finished their greatest work. Hammers rang against glowing metal, forging axes and hammers imbued with ancient enchantments. Word of Malrik had reached even their ears, and the dwarves prepared as only dwarves could—with steel, fire, and unshakable resolve.
"Let the shadow march," their king bellowed, his voice booming through the forges. "The earth itself will break before we yield!"
But in the silence that followed, one old smith whispered, "And yet… even steel will not stop what walks in shadow. We will need more."
---
Back at the Ruins
Kael moved. His body stretched into motion, silent and deliberate. He did not roar, did not reveal himself. Instead, he slipped through the night like a phantom, wings carrying him above the enemy host. His eyes glowed faintly, casting golden threads that traced the enemy formation.
Malrik stiffened. His helm turned slowly, and though he could not see Kael, he felt him. His soldiers faltered for a heartbeat, their perfect formation rippling like water disturbed by a stone.
The general raised a gauntleted hand, halting his army. His voice carried across the night, deep and jagged. "I know you are there. Come forth, beast. Do not skulk in shadows. Face me."
Kael's claws flexed, but he did not answer. Instead, he shifted the wind, carrying Malrik's words back to him distorted, hollow, mocking.
The Shadow General's eyes narrowed beneath his helm. "So be it."
He slammed his sword into the ground. Shadows erupted outward, thick as smoke, curling into the shape of beasts with eyes of burning coal. Shade-hounds leapt forward, fangs snapping, their howls echoing into the night.
Kael dropped. He struck the earth with silent force, the impact rippling through stone and soil. Golden fire licked at the edges of his scales, but he did not unleash it fully. Not yet.
The hounds lunged. Kael moved like lightning. Claws tore through shadow, wings slammed down with explosive force, scattering beasts like ash in a storm. Each movement was precise, efficient, deliberate. He was not playing with them—he was measuring.
Malrik watched, unmoving. His aura deepened, shadows coiling tighter around him, binding the army to his will. When Kael's eyes met his, there was no fear, no hesitation—only challenge.
For the first time, Kael allowed himself a smile. This was no ordinary foe. This was the beginning.
[Warning: Malrik's aura synchronization increasing]
[Prediction: prolonged battle will corrupt local terrain]
[Recommendation: neutralize commander swiftly]
Kael's eyes narrowed. He already knew. His wings flared, golden fire erupting along their span. The night was torn open by light, shadows fleeing before the brilliance of the Primordial Flame.