The Roar of Valtheria

The battlefield was drowned in chaos. Smoke from gunfire and magic clashed with the rising sun, turning the sky into a twisted canvas of war.

Valtherion stood at the front, watching the Raegath army struggle to comprehend what had just happened. Their charge had been reduced to a bloodbath in mere moments. Bodies lay scattered, armor shattered like brittle glass, and yet—Lucius Raegath still roared for them to advance.

"Tch… Stubborn bastard," Valtherion muttered, lowering his rifle.

Behind him, Isabelle gave a sharp signal, and the second line of riflemen stepped forward.

"Ready!"

The air tensed.

"Aim!"

Lucius saw it. He felt it. The overwhelming force of something unnatural, something far beyond his understanding. His knights—his proud warriors—were being cut down before they even got close.

But he refused to retreat.

"Shield formation! Advance!" Lucius barked.

His men obeyed, lifting their massive tower shields as they pushed forward in a disciplined march. Arrows wouldn't stop them. Regular magic wouldn't break their advance.

Unfortunately for them, this was not a war of swords and bows.

"Fire!" Isabelle shouted.

Another deafening boom erupted, but this time, it was different. The bullets, laced with concentrated mana, exploded on impact. The shields that were supposed to protect them became death traps, sending shrapnel tearing through flesh and bone.

Some knights screamed, some fell silent, their lifeless bodies crumpling under the weight of war.

Valtherion's grin widened as he watched the battlefield turn into a slaughterhouse.

Lucius clenched his sword, his eyes burning with rage.

"Damn you, Valtherion!" he roared.

With one command, the remaining cavalry burst forward, weaving through the destruction. They galloped at terrifying speed, their lances glowing with enchantments designed to pierce even the hardest armor.

"Finally," Valtherion exhaled, cracking his neck. "I was getting bored."

He threw his rifle aside and extended his hand.

A massive surge of mana burst from his body, the sheer force of it shaking the ground. His personal weapon, Hellrend, materialized in his grip—a massive black greatsword infused with cursed energy.

His soldiers knew what was about to happen.

Their king was stepping onto the battlefield himself.

"Your Majesty—"

"Stay back," Valtherion ordered, a wild grin on his face. "This part is mine."

And then—he moved.

In an instant, he vanished, a blur of speed so fast that even the trained knights barely had time to react. One moment, he was standing still. The next—

SHRRRK!

A rider's head flew off, his body still galloping for a few more seconds before collapsing. Blood sprayed across the air, painting the battlefield in deep crimson.

Valtherion landed with a heavy stomp, swinging his greatsword in a massive arc. The sheer pressure from his strike sent shockwaves across the field, launching bodies like ragdolls.

The knights hesitated.

They had trained for years. They had fought against monsters. They had faced mages and assassins.

But this? This was a demon.

"Is this all you've got?!" Valtherion shouted, his voice booming across the battlefield.

A knight lunged at him from behind.

Bad move.

Without even turning around, Valtherion flicked his wrist, and Hellrend's blade curved unnaturally, slicing through the knight's chestplate like butter. The poor fool didn't even have time to scream.

Lucius' face twisted in fury. "Everyone, attack him at once!"

A hundred knights rushed forward.

Valtherion exhaled, his eyes glowing with hunger.

"Now this…" He raised Hellrend, gripping it with both hands. "…is more like it."

BOOM!

The ground exploded beneath him as he launched forward, meeting the charge head-on. His blade became a blur of destruction, cutting through armor, flesh, and bone with terrifying ease.

A knight thrust his spear—Valtherion sidestepped, grabbed the man's head, and slammed it into the ground so hard that his skull split open.

Another swung a sword—Valtherion caught it with his bare hand, snapped the blade in half, and drove the broken edge into the knight's throat.

Blood painted his armor. His wild grin never faded.

"More!" he growled, his body trembling with excitement. "Come on! Show me what you're worth!"

But they couldn't.

The knights of Raegath, the so-called strongest warriors of the kingdom, were nothing before him.

Lucius' hands shook. His pride as a king, his honor as a warrior—it was being torn apart before his eyes.

Valtherion turned to him, blood dripping from his blade. "You're next, old man."

Lucius gritted his teeth. "You—!"

Before he could finish, Valtherion vanished again.

Lucius barely had time to react before a massive force slammed into his stomach, sending him flying backward. He crashed through several bodies, finally stopping when he skidded across the blood-soaked dirt.

He coughed violently. His ribs were cracked—no, shattered.

When he looked up, Valtherion was standing over him, resting Hellrend on his shoulder.

"You should've surrendered," Valtherion mused, tilting his head. "I would've killed you painlessly."

Lucius spat blood, gripping his sword. "I… won't… bow to you…"

Valtherion sighed. "Why do you stubborn types always say the same thing?"

He raised his sword.

Lucius closed his eyes, accepting his fate.

SLASH.

Silence.

And then—Lucius Raegath's head rolled across the dirt.

The remaining knights froze. Their king was dead. Their hope was gone.

Valtherion turned to them, eyes burning with a terrifying glow.

"Kneel… or die," he commanded.

A single moment passed.

And then—one by one, the knights dropped their weapons and fell to their knees.

It was over.

The Battle of Raegath had ended.

And Valtheria stood victorious.