War.

For months, the looming war had been a dark cloud over the continent. Jack had known that the Shadow King was no ordinary foe. He was a master of deception, a ruler of unseen horrors, and a force that even the elves and dwarves had feared for centuries.

But up until now, he had only acted through his puppets—the Dark Elves. Never before had he shown himself in battle.

That changed today.

It was dawn when the alarms blared across the Dwarven-Elven war camp. The scouts returned, their faces pale, their bodies trembling.

"He's here!" one of them gasped. "The Shadow King himself has come!"

Jack, standing at the edge of the war table, immediately turned to the map. He had expected another wave of Dark Elf forces, but this… this was different.

"How many soldiers?" Jack asked, his voice calm but sharp.

The scout swallowed. "None. Just… him."