The sky had darkened, not with the twilight of evening, but with the shadow of war. Smoke rose in thick plumes from the edges of the battlefield, casting an ominous haze over the land. The air was thick with the smell of burning wood and blood, mingling with the metallic tang of steel. Screams of pain, the clash of swords, and the roar of commands echoed across the field as Florana stood on the frontlines, her fiery aura blazing bright, casting long shadows over the chaos.
Xerock, at her side, had already sent word to his own kingdom. His fire legions, renowned for their savagery in battle, would arrive soon. But until then, they were outnumbered.
"They're pushing harder than we expected," Xerock muttered, wiping the blood from his blade as he surveyed the battlefield. "Their numbers keep swelling. It's almost unnatural."
