A crimson moon loomed high in the sky, casting its eerie light over the blackened plains of Varnok. The silence was thick, broken only by the distant crackle of burning wood and the occasional echo of a dying scream. The world had changed — no longer ruled by kingdoms or crowned men, but by fear. And fear had a name: Neon Dake.
Orion Duskbane stood tall at the edge of the ridge overlooking the Eastern valley. His cloak fluttered like wings of a fallen god, and his shadow army—thousands strong—waited behind him. Each soldier bore no face, no voice, no past. Only one purpose: war.
The city of Varnok was visible in the distance—its walls desecrated, towers now impaled with the bones of those who resisted. But Orion’s eyes weren’t on the destruction. They were locked on the central citadel—a throne built atop ash, where his enemy sat with false glory.
Behind him, five elite generals of the Shadow Legion awaited his word. Among them stood Seren, mistress of illusions, and Kael, beastmaster of the abyss. Even in silence, they understood their commander’s intent.
“Everything we’ve built,” Orion said without turning, “leads to tonight.”
Seren nodded. “Scouts report heavy patrols. Dake’s creatures circle the outer walls. They expect an assault.”
Orion closed his eyes briefly. “Good. Let them wait. They deserve fear.”
Suddenly, the sky flickered — a rip in reality cracked open midair, and from it emerged a flying beast with crimson wings and metal claws — a Night Talon. On its back stood a hooded figure, cloaked in lightning: Vaeron, one of Dake’s winged assassins.
“He sends toys,” Kael growled.
Orion didn’t move. “Not toys. Warnings.”
Vaeron spoke, voice echoing unnaturally across the ridge. “You survived the pit, Duskbane. Impressive. But this land is no longer yours. Crawl back into shadow.”
Orion finally raised his head. “You mistake silence for surrender.”
Without another word, Vynn, the silent sniper, loosed a bolt. It flew like thunder—clean, fast, fatal. Vaeron’s wing tore midflight, and the beast screeched as it crashed into the cliffside. The army below erupted in whispers.
Orion stepped forward, eyes glowing. “Shadow Legion—march.”
The valley trembled. The silent army moved as one — like a tide of vengeance, erasing the past with every footstep. Down the hills they marched, shadows flickering, armor gleaming with cursed light.
The battle began before the gates. Dake’s hounds, skeletal beasts fused with molten cores, charged forward, snarling. But Seren unleashed a wave of mirrored illusions — and the beasts tore into ghosts instead of warriors. Behind the confusion, Kael released a feral screech, summoning his nightbeasts — towering creatures with obsidian fangs and armored hides. They tore through flesh like paper.
Still, resistance grew. Fire catapults launched from the citadel, sending towers of flame into the darkness. Several Legion soldiers fell. But where one dropped, two rose.
And above them all, Orion soared.
Wings made of living shadow burst from his back as he leapt into the air. His blade glowed with the power of the Shadow Core. He moved with grace, but struck with destruction. Every slash of his sword disintegrated weapons, every punch sent shockwaves through stone.
On the citadel walls, Dake’s high general appeared — The Iron Prince, a knight of smoke and steel. With twin axes forged from fallen stars, he met Orion midair. Sparks flew. Metal clashed. The air shook.
“You’ve become legend,” the Iron Prince said.
“I don’t care for legends,” Orion replied. “Only endings.”
Their duel split the sky. Below, the Legion gained ground. Vynn shot through three generals in one breath. Ereva, the cursed mage, summoned storms that twisted enemy minds. Screams filled the night.
But even victory came at a price. Dozens of shadow warriors fell. Kael lost a beast. Seren collapsed briefly from overusing her power.
And still Orion fought.
He disarmed the Iron Prince, landing a blow that cracked his helmet. The prince fell, defeated but not dead. Orion stood over him.
“Tell your master,” he said, “I’ve come to reclaim everything.”
As the citadel gates shattered open, the Shadow Legion flooded in. The capital was no longer untouchable. It belonged to the war now.
And the war belonged to Orion.
A storm loomed over the valley, but Orion Duskbane stood unmoved. His eyes burned with purpose, and behind him, the Shadow Legion awaited in perfect silence. Thousands of soldiers, born of pain and forged by darkness, stood ready to reclaim a world stolen by fear.
In the distance, Varnok’s black citadel glowed like a cursed flame. Screams still echoed from its walls. Neon Dake ruled from its throne, feeding on the suffering of the innocent.
Orion raised his hand.
Without a single word, the army began its descent. Shadows surged like a living tide. The wind howled, but even the storm seemed to bow before them.
Scouts from Dake’s forces noticed the march too late. Shadow spikes pierced through trees and hearts alike. Vynn’s arrows whistled through the air, ending enemies before they could cry for help. Kael’s beasts roared, charging ahead like death incarnate.
The first clash came near the broken bridge of Verdan Hollow. Flaming beasts lunged at the frontlines, but Seren’s illusions tricked them into attacking empty space. Orion landed amidst the chaos like a phantom god, his blade cutting through air, fire, and bone.
A high-ranking knight challenged him.
“You can’t save this land,” he spat.
“I’m not here to save,” Orion said. “I’m here to end.”
With one slash, the knight fell.
As the battle raged, the sky split with thunder.
And somewhere, far above, Neon Dake watched… smiling.
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TOO BE CONTINUED.....
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