In a landscape barricaded by rolling hills and jagged terrain, the golden glow of late evening draped the kingdom in weary light, the sun's dying rays scattering like wounded embers across shattered towers and blood-stained waters.
The grand palace of this kingdom—once the jewel of artistry with its jade domes and gilded spires—still stood, though not unscathed. Massive claw marks raked across its marble walls, as though some colossal beast had tried to peel away its glory. Windows that had once poured light like blessings were now blackened sockets, their stained glass shattered and strewn into the river below like broken prayers.
The bridge, still spanning proudly across the emerald waters, bore the weight of recent battle. Statues of heroes and generals, once guardians of peace, were chipped and scarred; many had lost arms, heads, or their entire forms, toppled into the depths by vicious claws and monstrous fury.
