The capital of Kano was alive with activity. The streets were filled with people from all corners of the kingdom, their faces beaming with joy.
Nobles, peasants, and even the usually forgotten homeless were united in their celebration.
The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats and fresh bread, mingling with the sound of laughter and music. People danced and sang, their pride and happiness almost tangible.
This was no ordinary day in Kano. The reason for the celebration was clear to everyone, they had just won a great victory against their long-time rival, the Azov Kingdom.
Azov, once proud and powerful, had been utterly destroyed. Its people were scattered like leaves in the wind.
For the people of Kano, this victory was more than just a triumph on the battlefield. It was a sign that their kingdom was growing stronger.
The streets were filled with banners and flags, each one a testament to the might of Kano. Even those who had once gone to bed hungry now had their fill. The joy was contagious, spreading through the crowd like wildfire.
----
Inside the royal palace, the atmosphere was even more grand. The nobles, dressed in their finest clothes, sipped expensive wines and feasted on exotic foods.
The halls were alive with the sound of musicians playing lively tunes, the clinking of glasses, and the laughter of the noblemen and women.
Princes and princesses danced gracefully, their movements elegant and refined, while servants hurried to attend to their every need.
At the center of it all, on a grand throne, sat King Tsar. His posture was regal, his face proud. In his hand, he held the legendary world treasure—the Sandstorm Sentinel.
This powerful artifact had been in the Kano royal family for generations, and it was the key to their victory over Azov.
With it, Tsar could control sand at will, using it to attack and defend. He could even turn his body into sand, making him nearly invincible.
The Sandstorm Sentinel had changed the course of the war, allowing Kano to crush Azov's armies and claim victory. As Tsar watched his people celebrate, he allowed himself to imagine the future. His kingdom was already strong, but soon it would be unstoppable.
He would expand their borders, conquer their enemies, and build an empire that would be remembered for all time.
'One day,' Tsar thought with a smile,
'They will speak my name with reverence. I will be known as the king who built the greatest empire this world has ever seen.'
But just as Tsar was lost in his thoughts of conquest, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted him. His trusted general, Musafa, entered the room and bowed deeply before his king.
"Your Majesty," Musafa began, his voice low and respectful,
"it has been more than ten days since General Austin set out to chase down Prince Luis of Azov."
Tsar's brow furrowed slightly. In the midst of the celebration, he had nearly forgotten about the chase. After the fall of Azov, the remnants of its royal family had fled.
General Austin had been sent to capture them, but days had passed with no word from him or his troops.
"Do we have any news?" Tsar asked, his voice calm but with an undertone of expectation.
Musafa hesitated before replying.
"Yes, Your Majesty. We have just received word that Prince Luis is heading towards the Godfall."
At the mention of the Godfall, Tsar's eyes gleamed with interest. The Godfall was a place of ancient power, feared by all. Legends said that no one who entered ever returned.
But Tsar was not a man to be easily frightened by mere stories. He had heard the legends, and he knew they were just that—stories.
"Hmph. Gods," Tsar muttered, his voice filled with arrogance.
"With the power I hold, I can rival any god. There is nothing to fear in that land."
Musafa, however, was not as sure. The Godfall was not a place for mortals to wander lightly, and though he knew better than to question the king's authority, he could not shake the unease in his heart.
"Yes, Your Majesty. You truly have the power to rival the gods," Musafa said, bowing once more before excusing himself.
As Musafa left the room, Tsar leaned back in his throne, lost in thought. The Godfall was more than just a myth.
He knew the truth of that place—it was not a battlefield of gods, but the site of a great war between the holders of world treasures. The battle had been so fierce that it shattered the empire that once ruled the continent.
Due to that battle, many of the world treasures had been lost, their powers hidden for generations. The land had once been united under a single empire, but after its fall, the continent had been divided for centuries.
'That is why Kano must rise,' Tsar thought to himself.
'We will reclaim what was lost and build a new empire, stronger than the last.'
Tsar glanced over at the young princes who were playing and laughing with the noble ladies. For a moment, his expression softened, but a shadow of doubt crossed his eyes.
He knew that the future of his kingdom rested on the next generation.
The Sandstorm Sentinel was a powerful treasure, but it needed a worthy heir. If the princes could not inherit its power, Kano would face the same fate as Azov—crushed and forgotten within two or three generations.
'The reason Azov fell,' Tsar thought,
'Is because their royal family couldn't gain the recognition of the Celestial Flame. Without a strong soul, dozens of times stronger than an ordinary person's, they could never control it. Only a true genius, one in a hundred million, could wield such power.'
The Celestial Flame was no ordinary treasure. Its power was so great that even Tsar himself would be challenged in battle if he faced it. But now, with the flame lost, Azov had crumbled, and Kano had risen in its place.
Tsar smiled to himself once more.
'I am the strongest king Kano has ever known,' he thought proudly.
'Under my rule, the kingdom will continue to grow. My name will be etched into history, and no one will stand in my way.'
Suddenly, the ground beneath him began to shake. The walls of the palace trembled, and the floor rumbled as if something immense was approaching. A deep, echoing sound, like the beating of a giant drum, filled the air.
Dong... dong... dong...
Dong... dong... dong...
The deep, resonant sound reverberated through the palace walls, making the ground tremble beneath their feet. Tsar's face tightened with anger as the vibrations coursed through the air.
His expression grew darker, a storm brewing behind his sharp eyes. He stood up abruptly from his throne, his robe sweeping across the floor like a shadow.
"What is happening?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
Around him, the room buzzed with nervous energy. Advisors exchanged worried glances, but no one dared to speak.
"Musafa!" Tsar's voice echoed again, filled with urgency.
"Take the princes to safety at once!"
The chief advisor, Musafa, snapped to attention. He quickly gathered the young princes, ushering them out of the room with a firm yet gentle hand. Tsar's gaze then swept over the remaining men in the room—his most trusted soldiers and generals.
"And the rest of you, follow me. I want to see what is causing this earthquake."
His heart pounded with irritation and concern. The kingdoms surrounding Kano were always a threat, their ambitions like vultures circling a wounded animal.
But to cause an earthquake so close to the capital? It was unthinkable. Tsar clenched his fists, his mind racing with suspicion.
'It must be an attack,' he thought, his brow furrowing.
'But who would dare challenge us now?'
As Tsar made his way toward the palace doors, a guard came sprinting toward him, his face as pale as a ghost. The guard skidded to a stop, nearly losing his balance.
His eyes were wide with terror, and when he spoke, his words tumbled out in a frantic rush.
"Y-Your Majesty!" the guard stammered, his voice trembling with fear.
"There is... there is a giant! A massive giant is walking toward the capital!"
"A giant?" Tsar repeated, his eyebrow arching in disbelief.
"Are they from the Giant Kingdom? They must be brainless to come here, seeking their own death."
Tsar's voice dripped with arrogance as he turned to his soldiers, a grin spreading across his face. He knew the power he wielded, and the mere thought of a giant challenging him seemed laughable.
"If it's a giant, then we'll kill it!" he declared confidently.
"I'll have its bones hung from the city gates as a warning to all others. Giants are nothing to be afraid of!"
The soldiers around him, hearing his bold words, erupted in cheers. Their confidence was fueled by the king's fearlessness.
They had followed him into countless battles, and his victories were the stuff of legend. They believed in him without question.
But the guard who had brought the news remained frozen in fear, his hands trembling. He had seen the giant with his own eyes, and it was unlike anything he had ever imagined.
This creature was beyond the giants—it was something far more terrifying.