A general born to rule

The exploration begins and disaster strike

The Alliance of Valorcrest, known now as the Peacekeeper Global Occult, stood at the edge of the Unknown Lands, their armies vast and formidable, ready for the challenge that awaited beyond the fog. The combined might of Valorcrest, the Freehold Republic, Darkthar, the Dwarven Kingdom, Lorithra, and the Abyssal Dominion had been forged through countless battles, each nation contributing its finest warriors and most advanced technology. Now, they would face a new threat together—one that had plagued the distant lands with war and darkness for centuries.

At the head of the army stood Marcus, his presence commanding respect and authority. He stood on a raised platform, his eyes scanning the vast sea of soldiers, dragonkin, air force units, and tanks assembled before him. The eerie fog still clung to the horizon, a ghostly barrier that shielded the horrors of the Unknown Lands. But soon, that barrier would fall, and the war would begin.

Marcus raised his voice, his tone both inspiring and fierce. His words echoed across the battlefield, reaching every ear.

"Warriors of Valorcrest! Allies of the Peacekeeper Global Occult! Today, we march not just to conquer, but to cleanse! For centuries, the Unknown Lands have been a breeding ground for chaos and darkness. We face enemies who know only war, bloodshed, and death! But today, we stand united, with the strength of dragons, the precision of elves, the might of the dwarves, and the courage of men. This fog, this cursed veil of war, will lift, and we will show them what true power is! We are not just fighting for land; we are fighting for our future! The future of our children, our people, and our world! Steel yourselves for what comes next, but know this—we will prevail. And when we do, the Unknown will know the meaning of peace!"

The soldiers roared in response, their weapons clanging, the sounds of dragons roaring and tanks revving filling the air. The sky above shimmered with the wings of the 10,000 air force units as they prepared for takeoff, their bombers and fighters primed for battle. In front of them, 30,000 infantry regiments stood ready, along with 500 dragonkin—massive, draconic beings that towered over the soldiers, their scales gleaming in the faint sunlight that broke through the fog. Tanks rumbled forward, 3,000 of them, massive machines designed for destruction, their cannons ready to unleash hell on the enemy.

Then, as if in answer to Marcus's words, the fog began to lift. Slowly at first, then with growing speed, it receded, revealing the horrors hidden beyond.

Before them, a vast battlefield stretched out—an endless sea of enemies. The forces of the Unknown were unlike anything they had faced before. 100,000 infantry surged forward, their black armor glinting in the light. 20,000 archers raised their bows, ready to rain death from the skies. 5,000 spearmen formed a phalanx, their spears raised like a deadly forest. 6,000 cavalry thundered across the field, their horses bred for war, their riders brandishing cruel, spiked weapons. And then, there were the dark forces—500 blood elves, their red eyes glowing with magic, and necromancers leading battalions of undead soldiers, their skeletal forms lurching forward at their command.

But what truly made the blood run cold were the vampires—creatures of the night, leading their forces with savage grace, their ranks swollen from the battles of the past. At their head stood dark lords, ancient beings of immense power, their black cloaks swirling as they commanded their undead legions.

"Prepare for battle!" Marcus shouted into his walkie, issuing commands to his officers. "Air units, cover the skies! Infantry, advance! Tanks, provide support—hit their front lines hard! Dragonkin, take to the flanks and burn through their ranks!"

The battlefield erupted into chaos as the two forces collided. The roar of engines, the clash of steel, and the shouts of warriors filled the air.

The air force of the Peacekeeper Global Occult swooped down first, unleashing a barrage of missiles and bombs upon the enemy. Explosions rocked the battlefield as the ground forces of the Unknown were torn apart by the aerial assault. Blood elves retaliated with magic, sending fiery projectiles into the sky, trying to knock down the bombers. But the aircraft held strong, their pilots trained for this kind of relentless warfare.