Meanwhile, on a different part of the continent, a grand army was moving.
This army consisted of warriors, mages, and soldiers. This was an army of a new world that was opened due to the portal.
The head of this army was a man named Brook, a ruthless and cunning leader who saw the opportunity to conquer this new land and was taking it with both hands.
He stood on a hill overlooking the vast encampment, his dark eyes scanning the sea of tents and banners spread out before him.
"Sir," a voice behind him said, "We have received reports that the kingdom of Alvenhold is in disarray. Their army is weak, their treasury is somewhat good. It would be the perfect time to strike them and start our base in this world."
Sir Brook nodded, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"Yes, it would indeed. Prepare our forces. We march at dawn."
The soldier bowed and hurried away, eager to carry out his commander's orders.
