Gideon gazed down upon the nocturnal panorama that stretched out beneath him, the capital city of the Iron Antler tribe. He rode upon the back of one of the formidable black dragons he had fashioned using his own ebony spines. These unique creatures granted him and his comrades the ability to circumvent the seemingly impregnable white stone walls that encircled the tribe. As he looked out over the landscape, his sleek, jet-black fur rippled in response to the brisk night breeze.
"The symphony of despair that fills the air, the rhythmic thudding of their frightened hearts, and the pungent aroma of their fear," Gideon mused with a malicious grin, "It's a sight to behold. Death approaches, and there is no sanctuary to which they can flee. The very walls intended to shield them will now serve as their inescapable prison."
Behind him, nine other dragons soared lower, bearing a team of 23 battle-hardened lionkin, readying themselves for the impending assault.
The deerkin, the tribe's defenders, mustered their forces, launching volleys of arrows from their archers, arcane projectiles from their mages, and massive stones and arrows from their towering ballistae. However, these attacks proved futile as they met the impenetrable defenses of Gideon's black dragons. The dragon's scales, constructed from his formidable spines, effortlessly deflected the onslaught.
Raising his hands high, Gideon declared, "Now, let the festivities commence!"
When the lionkin reached a calculated altitude above the ground, Leo, their indomitable leader, leaped first, closely followed by his loyal comrades. As they plummeted toward the earth, the deerkin scrambled to engage them in combat.
Simultaneously, the black dragons launched their devastating assault. The nine creatures underwent a stunning transformation, their bodies disassembling as the black spines covering them disconnected. In the blink of an eye, they released a deluge of ebony spines onto the ground below.
What followed was a cacophony of deafening explosions, as the thousands of black spines detonated upon impact with the ground. They devoured structures and any deerkin unfortunate enough to be caught in their corrosive wake.
In the span of moments, the capital of the Iron Antler tribe was transformed into a graveyard cloaked in a sinister haze of death. The once-thriving tribe lay in ruins, with a massive portion obliterated beyond recognition.
Leo and his lionkin continued their relentless assault on the beleaguered deerkin. Overwhelmed by the relentless bombing from all directions, they found Leo's group to be an insurmountable challenge.
Gideon's alliance with the lionkin ensured their immunity to the explosion of the black spines and their corrosive effects. They could traverse the heart of the barrage unscathed, a fact that rendered their mission of eradicating the remaining deerkin significantly easier.
Even when the lionkin sustained injuries in the heat of battle, Gideon's skill, *Nature's Blessing*, worked tirelessly to mend their wounds. This rendered them an invincible fighting force against which no adversary could contend.
From his vantage point in the night sky, bathed in the silvery glow of the moon, Gideon watched with a sense of grim satisfaction as his bombardment razed a substantial portion of the Iron Antler tribe's capital. The haunting echoes of pain and despair reverberated in every corner, a testament to the relentless force of his onslaught. Nothing could thwart his advance.
Yet, amid the chaos and devastation, Gideon's satisfaction was suddenly interrupted by a distinct sensation. His eyes narrowed, and a sly smirk curled upon his lips. "Ah, there you are," he murmured, urging the dragon beneath him to change course.
The black dragon descended gradually, and Gideon, with the agility of a predator, leaped from its back, landing gracefully on the earth below. As he dismounted, the dragon rejoined its brethren in their relentless bombing campaign.
Gideon's sharp eyes honed in on two specific deerkin who were currently aiding civilians in their desperate flight from the ceaseless onslaught. These two were not like the others; they held significant roles that could change the course of this night's fate.
"We meet again," Gideon said casually, raising his obsidian claws, their edges glinting in the moon's ethereal light.
Algani and Gighan exchanged uneasy glances. Initially, confusion gripped them as Gideon's current appearance bore no resemblance to their last encounter, but soon, their expressions shifted to recognition.
"Gideon," Algani growled as he took a step closer, rage smoldering in his eyes. "You monstrous fiend, you're attacking innocent civilians!"
*Deerkin: Level 41.*
A twisted chuckle escaped Gideon's lips. He briefly glanced at the distant horizon where dragons rained destruction upon helpless civilians, leaving them with no escape. "Am I? Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I didn't realize," he said with a smirk, his voice dripping with unapologetic venom. "But, you see, according to Leo's teachings, killing civilians isn't considered a war crime. It may not be encouraged, but it's not expressly forbidden either. It's akin to what Fiora did to the Gold Mane tribe fifteen years ago."
Gideon tilted his head upward, a hint of sadistic pleasure dancing in his eyes. "The rules of warfare in this world are unique, wouldn't you agree? When you decide to plunge into war, you must be prepared to annihilate tribes or face annihilation yourself. I find it rather exhilarating," he continued, returning his gaze to Algani. "But don't fret; I still have use for you. My black dragons will exhaust their spines soon. In about two minutes, they'll be gone. Let's hope your people can endure until then."
"So, you're responsible for those explosive dragons," Gighan growled, brandishing his shield and sword. "My people don't have to endure this torment any longer. I'll end you now, and this nightmare will cease!" He screamed, charging recklessly toward Gideon.
*Deerkin: Level 38.*
"Gighan, stop!" Algani cried out, but Gighan paid him no heed.
Gideon arched an eyebrow, a menacing smile playing on his lips. "You're astonishingly reckless, aren't you? Don't you understand the gravity of the situation?" Gideon's tone dripped with menace.
Before Gighan's sword could reach its target, Gideon vanished, leaving nothing but a trail of inky black smoke. Gideon executed *Claw Attack* four times in swift succession, a blur of deadly strikes that left Gighan bewildered and incapacitated.
Blood sprayed in all directions as Gideon's claws sliced through Gighan's limbs like a merciless scythe. First, Gighan's right arm severed and flew through the air, followed by his left arm, then his right leg, and finally, his left leg. Gighan tumbled to the ground, helpless and maimed.
Gighan's agonized screams echoed across the battlefield as he writhed on the ground, resembling a wounded worm.
"My son!" Algani tried to rush to Gighan's side but was halted as Gideon materialized between them, a stern hand raised in warning.
"Don't come any closer, or his insignificant head will part ways with his body," Gideon stated coldly, sweeping his claws to cast the blood droplets aside. "But perhaps that would be a mercy, for living in his current state would be a fate worse than death."
"Curse you," Algani muttered, overwhelmed by a crushing sense of powerlessness. His son's limbs had been severed, and all he could do was bear witness from a helpless distance.
Gideon ignored Algani's words, his attention fixed on Gighan. "Is that the extent of your abilities? Given your earlier arrogance, I expected more from you," he taunted, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. "Look at you now—pathetic. All bluster, no substance."
"Gideon!" Gighan gritted his teeth through the excruciating pain, his voice laced with anger. However, Gideon's only response was an amused smile that deepened with each passing moment.
Algani stood there, utterly defeated. His people were being massacred, his son's limbs had been severed, and the fate of their tribe now rested in the hands of the very person they had mocked and underestimated.
As the moon cast its haunting glow over the battlefield, the three figures stood frozen in a tableau of despair and vengeance, the weight of their choices and actions bearing down upon them like an unbreakable curse.