As the two moons hung low in the twilight sky, casting an eerie yet beautiful silver light over the battlefield, Gideon and Idris, the leaders of the opposing forces, confronted each other. Their faces bore nonchalant smiles that belied the chaos surrounding them—clashing weapons, dying screams, and war cries that reverberated through the blood-soaked battleground.
Idris, his sharp gaze locked onto Gideon, acknowledged the unspoken tension in the air. "Based on the intelligence I gathered when your forces attacked the Iron Antler tribe, you possess weapons capable of causing devastating explosions. Yet, you choose not to employ them now," he said, his voice tinged with curiosity. He raised his massive stone sword and pointed it directly at Gideon. "Was that a one-time trick, Gideon?"
