The Crimson crown
At the heart of the battlefield stood King Edgar, dressed in scorched armor, his eyes blazing with fury. His sword tore through enemy after enemy, his body soaked in blood — both his and theirs. Every strike, every roar, was fueled by pain and betrayal.
Beside him, Daemon, his right-hand warrior, fought with wild precision. The two stood back to back, slashing through waves of invaders like gods of war. They were outnumbered, surrounded, and still they stood tall — unbroken.
Then came the voice — mocking, sharp, and venomous.
> "King Edgar... or should I call you the failure king now? You're not as powerful as people think. Look around you... I’ve torn your kingdom apart in a day. Burned it. Shattered it. And now, I will kill you, take your throne, and fuck your beautiful wife. I’ll have her moaning my name before I slit your bastard son's throat and end your miserable life. "Say one more word about my wife or son... I swear, I’ll slit your damn throat!"