Prince Helard marched with an army that could shake the very foundations of the earth. One hundred thousand loyal soldiers, fierce flame hounds, and four massive fire-breathing dragons followed him, their roars echoing like thunder in the valleys as they approached the borders of Trallod's realm. The air crackled with tension, each soldier aware that they were about to be part of a confrontation unlike any other—a war to prove who was the true heir to their father's legacy.
As the imposing army advanced, the ground trembled beneath the weight of their fury and purpose. The soldiers, fueled by Helard's burning rage, felt invincible. They were ready to unleash chaos upon Trallod's peaceful realm, convinced that this was their chance to show their might.
But Prince Trallod was not caught unawares. As he stood atop the stone castle he had built, he felt a familiar energy—a powerful heat that ignited the air. Helard was coming. The intensity of his brother's flames pierced through the calm that enveloped Trallod's realm, and he instinctively knew what that meant: conflict was imminent.
Trallod's brow furrowed as he prepared to confront Helard. He could sense the rage in his brother, the need to prove superiority, and it troubled him. With a determined stride, Trallod descended from his castle, moving to meet the impending storm. As he approached the army, he raised his hands to signal peace, hoping to quell the fire that consumed Helard.
When he reached a distance where he could see his brother, Trallod called out, "Helard! What brings you and your army to my realm? We can talk this through."
But the moment Helard laid eyes on Trallod, the flames of fury ignited even more. "How dare you insult me!" he bellowed, his voice laced with bitterness. "You think you are strong? You didn't even think of us as competition! Then let me show you how strong I am!"
Confusion washed over Trallod. "Hold on, brother. What do you mean?" His voice was calm, but inside, he felt a storm brewing. "This is madness! I never saw you or Wilord or Gust as weak. I simply chose freedom over power!"
Helard's eyes blazed with anger, and he stepped forward, flames licking at his heels. "Freedom? Is that what you call abandoning the throne? You think you can turn your back on this family and still hold your head high? I will show you the true meaning of strength!"
With a snap of his fingers, Helard commanded the flame hounds to howl, and they charged forward, eager for the fight. The fire-breathing dragons took to the skies, their wings casting shadows over the land, ready to rain down destruction upon Trallod.
"Helard, please!" Trallod pleaded, raising a hand to halt the onslaught. "This isn't the way! We can settle this without violence! I have no interest in the throne, and I don't want to fight you!"
But his words fell on deaf ears. Helard was consumed by his own emotions, blinded by envy and the need to prove himself. He could not see that Trallod's choice was not a slight against him but rather a path toward his own happiness.
As the hounds raced closer, Trallod's heart sank. He could not let Helard destroy the peace he had worked so hard to cultivate. Drawing upon his power, he summoned the very earth beneath him. With a powerful stomp, the ground trembled and began to rise, creating a protective barrier between his brother's forces and the realm he had come to cherish.
"Stop this, Helard!" Trallod shouted, his voice steady despite the chaos. "You're tearing our family apart! Is this what you truly want?"
But the fire within Helard had reached a boiling point. "What I want is to show you who the true ruler is! You think you can hide behind your stones? Let's see how well they stand against the flames of my fury!"
As the first wave of flame hounds lunged forward, Trallod prepared to defend his realm. The brothers stood at the precipice of a battle that would not only test their powers but also the very bonds of their brotherhood.
The clash of fire and earth was imminent, and the fate of their family hung in the balance.