The Drums of War

The air in Valtheria was thick with tension. The scent of steel and gunpowder lingered in the forges, mixing with the heat of molten metal. The once-lively streets were now filled with soldiers marching in formation, their boots stomping in perfect rhythm. War was coming.

Valtherion stood at the balcony of his war chamber, gazing at the massive army gathered below. His crimson eyes burned with a dangerous light, a grin tugging at his lips. The battlefield called to him.

"Your Majesty, the final preparations are complete."

Elyndra stepped beside him, dressed in a military uniform tailored for both elegance and battle-readiness. Her white hair fluttered in the evening breeze, her piercing blue eyes scanning the horizon.

"Every division is armed with the Hextech rifles," she continued. "Our artillery is in place, and the war engines have been enhanced with mana-infused plating. The army of Raegath will not know what hit them."

Valtherion chuckled, tilting his head slightly. "Oh, they'll know. And they'll regret ever standing against me."

From the other side of the chamber, Isabelle entered, a scroll in her hand. "We've intercepted a report. Raegath's army has begun mobilizing. Their king, Lucius Raegath, is leading the charge himself. He believes traditional warfare will be enough to overpower us."

Valtherion grinned wider. "How amusing. He truly believes his outdated methods will stand against my creations?" He cracked his knuckles, the glow of mana coursing through his veins.

"He has numbers," Elyndra pointed out. "Raegath is rallying every noble and knight under his banner. Their forces are easily twice our size."

Valtherion turned to his wives, amusement dancing in his gaze. "Twice our size? That just means more targets."

Isabelle sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Sometimes I wonder if you're enjoying this too much."

He chuckled. "Is that a problem?"

Elyndra smirked. "Only if you lose. But we both know that's not happening."

The room fell into a moment of silence as the weight of the impending war pressed down on them. Valtherion's amusement faded into cold calculation.

"Prepare the troops," he ordered. "We march at dawn."

The Raegath War Camp

Lucius Raegath stood at the head of his army, his dark armor gleaming under the moonlight. Tens of thousands of soldiers stood behind him, banners fluttering in the wind.

"Our spies report that Valtheria's forces are smaller," one of his generals reported. "They rely on strange weapons, but our knights will cut through them like paper."

Lucius clenched his fist. "That pretender, Valtherion, has no right to that throne. He defies tradition. He spits on centuries of honor. We will bring justice to Mythrendel—no, Valtheria."

The army roared in agreement, the fire of zeal burning in their eyes.

"Tomorrow, we reclaim our glory!" Lucius declared, raising his sword high.

The soldiers cheered, their voices shaking the earth. But they had no idea what awaited them.

Dawn of the Battle

The battlefield stretched far and wide. On one side, Valtheria's army stood, clad in advanced armor, Hextech rifles aimed forward. War engines rumbled behind them, massive constructs infused with mana, ready to unleash destruction.

On the other side, Raegath's forces, a wall of steel and flesh, held their swords high, confident in their numbers.

A silence fell. The wind howled.

Lucius raised his sword. "Charge!"

The knights roared, surging forward like a tidal wave of metal and fury.

Valtherion stepped forward, raising a single hand. "Fire."

A deafening boom erupted across the battlefield. The first wave of bullets, infused with mana, ripped through the charging knights. Armor shattered, bodies fell, and chaos erupted.

The knights faltered, confusion flashing across their faces. This wasn't war as they knew it.

Valtherion grinned, his crimson eyes gleaming. "This is the power of my creation!"

The battlefield became a slaughterhouse.