"I am General Hard," the tall, broad-shouldered warrior announced, his voice like grinding stone. "Of the Metal Tribe. We're here to claim these neutral lands as our own."
The neutrals stepped back, trembling at the sight of the heavily armored soldiers.
Arson's flames flared higher. "Your land?" he spat, his rage boiling. "This is my territory. I decide what happens to them - not you."
General Hard didn't flinch. "Your claims mean nothing. The strong conquer, the weak submit. That's the law of this world."
The words only fueled Arson's anger. "Then let's see who's stronger."
Without hesitation, Arson lunged at the Metal Tribe soldiers, dragging Sylvia along as the stubborn vine connecting them jerked her forward. "Arson-!" she shouted, but it was too late - he was already in battle mode.
He blasted a wave of searing flames at the soldiers, but their armor absorbed most of the heat - glowing orange for a moment before cooling down rapidly. The futuristic design seemed resistant to direct elemental attacks.
"Cute," sneered Hard. "Did you really think raw fire would work against metal?"
Arson gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, sending a column of flames directly at one of the soldiers' exposed joints. The intense heat warped the metal slightly, enough for Arson to kick the soldier back, sending him crashing into a tree.
Another soldier swung a bladed gauntlet at him, but Arson ducked - though the vine linking him to Sylvia yanked him awkwardly to the side.
"Stop pulling me around like a pet!" Arson snarled.
"Then stop acting like a mindless beast!" Sylvia shot back, using her free hand to summon a flurry of vines that whipped across the ground - tripping another metal soldier and wrapping tightly around his legs.
But their enemies were relentless. Despite Arson's strength and Sylvia's powers, the Metal Tribe's armor and weapons gave them an advantage. For every soldier Arson managed to bring down - with considerable effort - another closed in with mechanical precision.
General Hard watched the battle unfold with a cold smirk. "You're strong, Prince Arson," he said mockingly. "But strength without strategy is just brute force."
Arson's flames roared even higher, his frustration reaching its peak.
Sylvia glanced at him sharply. "Don't lose control-"
"Stay out of this!" Arson barked, his rage overtaking any sense of reason.
The battlefield crackled with tension, flames flickering against gleaming metal as Arson and Sylvia stood their ground bound by the stubborn vine glowing faintly between them.
General Hard, watching the chaotic clash with a calculated smirk, tilted his head at the vine connecting the Prince of Magma and the Princess of Nature. "What a fascinating bond," he said, his voice rough like grinding steel. "Tell me, Prince Arson - would you like me to cut that little vine tying you to your enemy?"
Arson's eyes, blazing with heat and defiance, darted to the vine. His movements had been limited for far too long, his pride suffocating under the constant pull of Sylvia's vines. With a fierce glare, he scoffed.
"Don't make me laugh, tin can," Arson growled. "You think your pathetic weapons can cut something this stubborn?"
Sylvia's grip on the vine tightened. "It's not just a vine—" she thought.
General Hard chuckled darkly. His metallic arm shifted, gears clicking into place as a set of needle-like projectiles emerged from his gauntlet. "Let's test who is more stubborn, your vine or our weapons!"
Before either of them could react, he fired.
The needles zipped through the air, striking the vine with lethal precision.
SNAP!
The connection between Arson and Sylvia shattered but not without consequences.
Both of them recoiled violently from the force, the backlash sending a jolt through their bodies.
Arson staggered back, a shallow but painful cut slicing across his shoulder, while Sylvia clutched her wrist, a thin line of blood trickling down her arm from the impact.
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
And then-
Arson grinned - wide and wild. "Finally." His flames surged higher, dancing in his palms like untamed beasts. "No more dead weight."
Without hesitation, he charged at the soldiers, his fire streaking across the battlefield. The freedom of movement made his attacks more fluid, more aggressive - each swing of his arm sending arcs of flame through the ranks of the Metal Tribe.
Yet the soldiers, clad in futuristic armor, withstood the heat. Their plating dimmed to a glowing orange for a moment before cooling rapidly, the advanced technology mitigating Arson's destructive blasts.
Sylvia, meanwhile, barely had time to catch her breath.
The sudden break in the vine had left her disoriented, but she quickly refocused rushing to shield the neutral villagers as Arson's flames and the soldiers' weapons clashed.
Vines burst from her fingertips, wrapping around the legs of incoming soldiers and dragging them down to the ground before they could strike.
The battlefield was chaotic.
_ _ _
After sometime, Arson's fierce momentum was slowly faltering.
Despite his brutal strength, the effort needed to break through the Metal Tribe's armor was taking a toll.
Each flame attack required more power, more energy and with every swing, his exhaustion crept closer.
His movements slowed. His flames dimmed.
And General Hard noticed.
A cruel grin split the general's face. "Your pride will be your downfall, Prince Arson."
Suddenly from the crowd of neutrals - a few cowardly individuals saw their chance.
In the chaos, they silently drew poison-tipped needles from their belts.
With Arson's focus locked on his fight against the Metal Tribe, they crept closer - their faces twisted in hatred and fear.
"End him now," one whispered. "Before he destroys us all."
With a sharp flick of their wrists, the needles flew - aimed straight at Arson's back.
But the Prince of Magma turned at the last second, his eyes burning with fury.
With a single burst of flame, he incinerated the incoming projectiles midair, the poison sizzling into harmless smoke.
"You ungrateful insects," Arson snarled, his voice like a low rumble of an impending eruption. "I let you live - and this is how you repay me?"
The neutrals cowered, stepping back in terror - but Arson's fury left him wide open.
In that split second of distraction, a wave of Metal Tribe soldiers charged at him from behind.
SLASH! PIERCE!
High-quality weapons - blades, spears, and even needle projectiles struck Arson's exposed back, cutting through his already worn-out defenses. Blood splattered across the ground, his body a canvas of slashes and punctures.
He staggered, knees nearly buckling.
General Hard laughed - a low, mechanical sound. "Formidable? You're barely standing. You call yourself a ruler?"
But Arson, despite the blood dripping down his sides and the pain tearing through his limbs, straightened his back.
A dangerous, prideful grin carved across his face. His teeth, bared in defiance, gleamed like flames themselves.
"Is that all you've got?" he rasped, his voice rough but unwavering. "Because I'm still standing."
Sylvia, still protecting the neutrals, stared at him - a mixture of surprise and fear flickering in her emerald eyes.
He was covered in blood, surrounded by enemies, yet he still grinned like a beast ready for more.
The air crackled with tension.
The Prince of Magma, broken but unyielding.
The Princess of Nature, fighting for those caught in the crossfire.
And the Metal Tribe, with General Hard watching their prey bleed but refusing to fall.