A general born to rule

The return of a past

The three warlords gathered around a large, obsidian table in the heart of the citadel's war room. The room was dimly lit, with holographic projections flickering to life, showing maps of the world they intended to conquer. The air was thick with the tension of old grudges and the thirst for revenge. Malakaroth, the exiled demon emperor, Gruknar, the Orc Chieftain, and Zaelos, the dark sorcerer of Nevr'val, were deep in conversation, their voices filled with grim determination.

Zaelos leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with malice as he spoke. “The time has come to bring back our old glory. We’ve waited long enough, hidden in the shadows. Now, with Nevr'val’s power fully restored, we can take back what was stolen from us. We will see the Valorcrest Kingdom brought to its knees.”

Malakaroth nodded, his eyes burning with the same hatred. “They’ve grown too complacent. Marcus and Sam have built their empire on the bones of our defeat. But they’ve forgotten us, and that will be their downfall. My daughter has turned against me, but I still have loyalists—warriors who remember the true power I once held. We will gather them in secret, build our strength, and strike before they even realize what’s happening.”

Gruknar, his massive frame towering over the table, let out a low growl. “I will summon all of my warriors. Every able-bodied orc under my command will rise for this. We will crush their bones, spill their blood, and take what is ours. No more waiting. No more hiding. We will show them the true meaning of fear.”

Zaelos smirked, his fingers tracing the glowing hologram of the Freehold Republic. “We begin with the Freehold Republic. They are weak, still recovering from their revolution. If we strike there, it will destabilize the entire region. Valorcrest won’t be able to ignore us, and when they turn their attention to the Republic, we will cut off their supplies, weaken their forces, and crush them.”

Malakaroth’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “We’ll do this quietly, for now. My daughter must not know of our plans until it is too late. She’s aligned herself with Marcus and his ideals of peace and unity, but those are nothing more than shackles to our true power. I will gather my loyalists, bring them here to Nevr'val, and when the time is right, we will strike.”

Gruknar slammed his fist onto the table, making the hologram flicker. “My warriors are ready. We’ve waited for this moment for far too long. The orcs will have their revenge.”

Zaelos stood, his long dark cloak flowing behind him as he walked towards the massive window overlooking the military preparations below. The city was alive with movement—soldiers clad in dark, glowing armor marched in perfect unison, their laser rifles held high. Monstrous tanks, adorned with arcane symbols and bristling with energy cannons, rumbled through the streets. Above, airships—hulking masses of metal, powered by a combination of jets and propellers—drifted across the sky, their engines humming with dark energy.

As Zaelos looked down at the army he had rebuilt, a sinister grin spread across his face. “This army… it’s unlike anything the world has ever seen. Laser rifles powered by arcane energy, tanks that can level cities, and airships that will rain destruction from above. It’s the kind of power Marcus and Sam once commanded, but now it belongs to us. This will be our final stand. We will not only defeat Valorcrest—we will erase it from existence.”

He walked to his office, his mind racing with thoughts of the battles to come. Inside the office, the walls were lined with relics of past wars, trophies from his many conquests. But on his desk, a single photograph stood out—a picture of Marcus and Sam from years ago. Zaelos picked it up, staring at the two faces that had haunted his dreams for so long.

His eyes narrowed, and he began to laugh—a low, menacing sound that echoed through the empty office. “Marcus, Sam… You thought you destroyed me. You thought you could build your perfect world on the ruins of mine. But here I stand, stronger than ever. You took everything from me—my country, my people, my legacy. And now, I will return the favor.”