"Are you sure this is a cursed Umbern?" Robert's voice was steady, though the weight of the battlefield pressed heavily upon his shoulders.
"Yes, I am sure of it," Noelle replied quickly, her words trembling with fear. "I once read a history book-The City of Gods. In it, I read about this very form... the son of the Goddess of Death. Ekzyros. I am certain."
Robert's jaw clenched. "Then we have no choice. We must fight this. Do you know of any weakness?"
Noelle lowered her gaze, hands shaking. "No... If we think properly, he is a god. So I guess... there's no way we can defeat him."
"Stay strong, my lady," Robert urged. His tone was firm, but there was warmth in his eyes. "Calm yourself. If you remember anything, even the smallest detail, tell us." He looked toward Nyros, who stood silently by his side. "Nyros, carry her to a safe place."
Then, turning, Robert faced the towering figure of Kenjuroth Tharosk, the King of the Kingdom of Knights. In his hands, the king gripped Stormcleaver, the Sword of Wind and Thunder, a God of Destruction.
"Kenjuroth," Robert called out, "what happened to the other kings?"
Kenjuroth let out a bitter laugh. "Are you stupid? I already informed them. But even if they march, it will take at least eleven days. We have no choice-we must fight that monster ourselves. To save humanity. To save the world."
Robert's eyes narrowed. "You never changed. Father always told me to protect you, but I didn't listen. And now look at fate-today is the day I am here to save you."
The soldiers behind the king gasped, whispering in disbelief. What is this? A warrior speaking so directly with our king? Impossible. Their whispers turned to shouts.
"Hey! Don't disturb the king!" one soldier bellowed.
"The king is busy thinking-leave, you filthy warrior!" another roared.
But Robert did not flinch.
The minister at Kenjuroth's side leaned close and whispered, "My lord... should we reveal the truth?"
Robert smirked. "Oh my, just as I thought. You never changed. You never told them about me. I like it... I truly like this. So you're afraid of me."
Kenjuroth's face hardened. "I am not afraid of you, not then and not now. I don't need you to save me. The bond between us ended long ago." His grip tightened on Stormcleaver. "I am fine all alone."
Then, with a sharp glance at his minister, Kenjuroth said, "Now is the right time. John-tell them the truth."
The minister, John Ashkin, stepped forward, his voice carrying across the soldiers. "Enough! Stop this at once. This man is no ordinary warrior. His name is Robert-the Fourth Division Captain of the Seven Warrior Kingdom. And if I speak his full name, then hear it well: Robert Tharosk. He is the brother of our king. But no more. He left our country long ago and joined the Seven Warrior Kingdom. Some of you may know... but most of you do not. He is no longer a citizen of this land."
A stunned silence fell over the soldiers-broken only by the monstrous roar that ripped through the sky.
Ekzyros stirred.
From his writhing body, spider-like webs erupted, but they were not mere silk-they were made of dark energy, glowing with corruption. The webs spilled across the battlefield like rivers of death, spreading faster than the soldiers could move. In a matter of moments, the ground itself was covered.
The first warriors caught by the black web screamed. But their cries ended swiftly. Their bodies shriveled, compressed, until they became nothing more than grotesque lumps of flesh. Meat-balls. In seconds, over a thousand men were gone.
The survivors froze, terror rooting their legs to the ground. Some tried to flee-only to be caught, consumed in turn. Others dropped their weapons, losing all hope.
Robert's eyes burned with fury. Kenjuroth's face was carved with grim realization.
"I never imagined a situation like this," the king whispered, voice low with despair. Then louder, to Robert: "But here it is... Robert, help us. Help us defeat him. I need time to use this sword-you know that. For that time, I need you to hold him back."
Then, to the shock of all present, Kenjuroth Tharosk-the King of Knights-fell to his knees before Robert.
"My lord, what are you doing?" John cried in outrage. "You don't need to bow your head to this betrayer. I can help you-"
"No, John," Kenjuroth cut him off. "You know as well as I do that you cannot. I cannot wield Stormcleaver's true power instantly. I need time. So please, Robert... help us. Help the Kingdom of Knights."
Robert looked down at his brother. A faint smile touched his lips. "As I said-you never changed. But because you asked, I will help you. Let's bring down this monster... brother." He placed a hand firmly on Kenjuroth's shoulder.
At that moment, a new voice rang out. "We are also here to help you."
Stepping forward was a young man with sharp eyes. "I am Alexander Junior, Prince of the Kingdom of Caves. This is Paul Ken, my minister and closest friend. And this-" He gestured to the shadowed figure behind him. "-is Bero, my assassin. We, too, will fight at your side."
Robert gave a nod. "Alexander. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too, Robert Tharosk," Alexander replied with a smile. But something in that smile unsettled Robert-a flicker of unease tugging at his instincts. He ignored it. For now.
"So," Robert said at last, "let's get started."
And so they gathered-Nyros Varkari, Robert Tharosk, Kenjuroth Tharosk, Alexander Junior, Paul Ken, Bero, and John Ashkin-standing shoulder to shoulder before the crumbling army of knights.
Before them loomed Ekzyros, the Son of Death, a towering monstrosity of webs, serpentine heads, and shadows.
The sky darkened. The ground cracked. The air trembled.
And thus began-
The Battle of Death.