White Tiger Corp's.

The battlefield lay silent, the remnants of the Shadow King's once-feared army reduced to scattered shadows dissolving into the void. The Elves and Dwarves celebrated, their cheers echoing across the vast underground caverns and enchanted forests.

Jack stood tall, his Anti-Matter Rifle cooling down from the final shot that had annihilated the Shadow King.

But he knew better than to celebrate just yet.

The war had ended too easily. Too cleanly.

And his suspicions were confirmed just days later.

A new darkness stirred—one that had been lying in wait, watching, planning.

From the deepest corners of the Shadow Realm, a new force emerged.

The Kobold Warlords.

And this time… the battle was far from over.

The Elven scouts returned with grim expressions. Their leader, a sharp-eyed warrior named Vaelith, bowed before Jack, his face pale.

"Sir Jack… it's worse than we feared."

Jack's gaze hardened. "Speak."