Somewhere deep in his swirling fortress of darkness, Malakar sat on his ominous throne, rubbing his temples. His minions stood in a silent, awkward circle around him. No one spoke. No one dared.
Because they had all seen it.
The goat.
The mighty Herald of the Abyss, terror of nations, conqueror of worlds… humiliated by a farm animal.
Malakar exhaled slowly. "Report."
One of his shadowborn captains hesitated. "Uh… well, the attack on Eldrath was going well until—"
Malakar's eyes snapped open. "Don't say it."
The captain gulped. "Until… the incident."
Malakar's fingers dug into the armrests of his throne. "It was a fluke."
The captain shuffled uncomfortably. "Right. Of course. Just, um… a really… well-timed fluke."
Malakar's eyes twitched. "You are dismissed."
The captain practically teleported out of the room.
Malakar leaned back, seething. This was not how things were supposed to go. He was a legendary warlord. A master of the shadows. A harbinger of doom.
And yet…
A goat.
A. Goat.
Somewhere in the corner of the chamber, two shadowborn whispered.
"Do you think he's still mad?"
"Oh, definitely."
Malakar shot a blast of shadow at them. The two creatures yiped and scurried away.
Malakar took a deep breath. No more distractions. No more farm animals.
It was time to take things seriously.
With a wave of his hand, the shadows around him shifted, forming a swirling portal. His real plan—the one Kaelen and Lyria hadn't discovered yet—was already in motion.
And this time…
No goats would stop him.
---
Meanwhile, in Eldrath…
Kaelen and Lyria sat in the remains of an old tavern, eating what little food was left after the latest battle.
"So," Lyria said between bites, "what's our plan?"
Kaelen chewed thoughtfully. "Well… my first idea is to train an army of war goats."
Lyria set her food down. "I hate that I can't tell if you're joking."
Kaelen grinned. "Only half-joking."
She groaned. "Look, Malakar's going to come back. And when he does, he's really not going to be in a good mood."
Kaelen nodded. "Yeah, but this time, we know something important."
Lyria raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"
Kaelen leaned in, lowering his voice dramatically. "He's very easy to piss off."
Lyria snorted. "Not exactly a battle strategy."
"Are you sure?" Kaelen gestured wildly. "Because I feel like it's working."
Lyria shook her head. "Fine. But after we come up with an actual plan, we're getting revenge on the tavern owner for running off and leaving us with the bill."
Kaelen sighed, looking at the empty room. "I still don't know how he managed to steal my shoes on the way out."
Lyria smirked. "That's what you get for trusting a guy named Sticky Pete."
Kaelen groaned. "I hate that you're right."
And so, with empty stomachs, stolen shoes, and a warlord who was one bad day away from a full breakdown, they prepared for the next battle.
The world was at stake.
Again.