Search of Tempest

Chapter 3 ''The Path Ahead''

-3 years later -

In Tyson's dream, he found himself in an unknown place, a vast desert surrounded by towering mountains. Before him lay a battlefield, where two armies stood facing each other with unwavering resolve.

One army donned black armor, their forms obscured by an eerie darkness that seemed to emanate from within. Their eyes glowed with a fierce intensity, their presence foreboding. Leading them was their king, a figure draped in shadows, wielding a sword with an ominous gleam.

Opposite them stood another army, adorned in pristine white armor that seemed to shimmer with purity. Like their counterparts, they too were enveloped in an ethereal energy, but of a radiant white hue.it was almost like chess in real life. Among them, Tyson stood tall, his expression confident as he surveyed the scene before him.

With a determined smile, Tyson whispered to himself, acknowledging the challenge laid out before him. "Looks like I should make the first move," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the unfolding battlefield.

In response to Tyson's command, one of the white soldiers surged forward, his footsteps echoing across the desert sands. With swift precision, he brandished his sword, ready to engage the enemy. Across the battlefield, the black king raised his sword, signaling his soldiers to advance.

As the black soldiers charged forward, the clash of metal against metal resounded through the air. The white and black armies collided in a flurry of strikes and parries, each side locked in a fierce struggle for dominance.

Amidst the chaos of battle, Tyson watched intently, his eyes darting from one skirmish to another. With every move, every clash of swords, he calculated his next steps

In the midst of the intense clash, Tyson watched from above, his keen eyes tracking every movement on the battlefield below. As the black rook made its bold advance, Tyson's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Sending your rook as a decoy and secretly preparing your queen to attack. Not bad," he mused to himself, "but unfortunately, I saw that coming miles away."

Before the black army could react, the white horse sprang into action, swiftly tackling the rook with precise timing. At the same time, a white soldier dealt a fatal blow to the black queen, sending shockwaves through their ranks. With each passing moment, the black army's numbers dwindled, their once-unshakeable resolve crumbling in the face of Tyson's strategic prowess.

"Guess it's my turn to attack," Tyson murmured, his voice carrying across the battlefield. With a decisive command, he ordered his knight to advance, setting the stage for the final confrontation. Yet, before the black king could mount a defense, the white queen seized the opportunity, her sword poised at the king's throat.

"Checkmate," Tyson declared, his words cutting through the chaos like a clarion call. With the battle won, he smiled with satisfaction, acknowledging the valiant efforts of his comrades. The white army erupted into cheers, swords raised in jubilation as they reveled in their hard-fought victory.

But amidst the celebrations, a sudden sandstorm engulfed the battlefield, shrouding everything in darkness. Tyson struggled to see through the swirling sands, his senses dulled by the onslaught of nature's fury. In the confusion, the black army seized their chance, launching a devastating counterattack.

Before Tyson could react, the black elephant charged forward, knocking him to the ground with brute force. As he struggled to rise, a black knight pinned him down, his foot pressing into Tyson's back, rendering him helpless.

Surrounded by the black army, Tyson felt a sense of impending doom wash over him. With grim determination, the black king approached, his sword gleaming in the dim light. In one swift motion, he raised his blade, poised to strike the final blow.