◼️CHAPTER TWELVE : The Battle Begins

The battlefield stretched endlessly beneath the crimson-streaked sky, divided into four cardinal fronts. In the center stood a towering clock, its pendulum swinging like the heartbeat of war. All eyes fixated on it. All ears strained to hear the siren. The Trial of the Six Kingdoms—whispered in stories, feared in dreams—would begin in thirty minutes.

Every warrior gripped their weapon tighter. The wind carried silence. Not of peace—but of breath held before a storm.

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Northern Front

"Are you ready, Robert... for your defeat?"

Nyros's voice slithered through the air like venom, his smile sharp as the blade at his hip. His obsidian armor shimmered under the dying sun.

Robert, calm and resolute, returned the smile. "Are you ready?"

The tension between them was a coiled beast waiting to strike.

Just beyond their standoff, another duel loomed.

Noelle Lanis stood face to face with a silent figure—Jeffrey Hawkins.

His identity cloaked in mystery. His eyes, unreadable.

Their blades gleamed.

No words. Just the unspoken promise of blood.

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Southern Front

"My lord," Paul knelt, offering the engraved sword with both hands. "Here is your weapon. I will protect you as long as I live."

His voice was steady, but his heart raced.

Alexander Junior, prince of the Kingdom of Caves, took the sword with grace.

"Thank you, Paul," he said, locking eyes with his loyal warrior. "I believe in you."

The southern winds whispered past them, carrying the scent of fate.

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Eastern Front

"I can smell blood already," Bero hissed. "Love it... love it... LOVE IT! EHHHHHHAAAA!!"

The Silent Killer threw back his head and laughed into the clouds, the sound shrill and inhuman.

"You think this is fun?"

A furious voice cut through the madness. Shamru the Predictor, wrapped in a deep indigo cloak, glared at Bero with disdain.

"This deadly game looks fun to you? You jerk."

Bero's laughter cracked louder, his face twisting into grotesque joy.

"Oh my… look who's here... Shamru."

He stopped laughing in an instant. His voice dropped like a blade.

"What did you call me? Jerk?"

Then, a breath.

And with a chilling calmness, he whispered:

"Now you're dead."

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The clock's hands inched closer to destiny. The tension rippled like waves through the battlefield.

Then—it happened.

A long, thunderous siren blared across the sky.

Silence shattered.

Warriors roared.

Steel rang against steel.

The Trial of the Six Kingdoms had begun.

The ground trembled not from the footsteps of armies—but from the weight of history being written.

This was no ordinary war.

This was legend.

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