-two hours earlier-
"Everyone, the capital is right there, get into your positions!" Venkalth yelled across the large fields where his army of magicians stood behind him.
The sound of simultaneous stomping echoed over the grass, they were ready, they just had to march to the capital and attack.
"You know what to do if anything goes wrong!" he smirked, his amethyst eyes glowed brightly he summoned Zander, who swirled from behind him.
All the magicians wore cloaks, their faces covered under the dark cloths, they held all types of weapons, staffs, magical spears, wands, fire arrows, ice axes, a nightmare for humans.
Venkalth nodded at Lazarus, and once they were high enough to see the whole army of 4,000 men, a sea of black power, Venkalth raised his arm high up in the sky and roared a "charge!" as he brought it down.
The army marched forward, walking in a disturbingly synchronized manner as they stomped their weapons on the floor. The stomping created a terrifying drum-like sound that alerted the other side.
"They're here!" one of the king's guards yelled, his pupils trembling in fear. After that everything was a blur, and Venkalth could see the madness of the two sides mixing, black cloaks merging with silver armour. A scoff left his lips, he turned to Lazarus and nodded, his narrowed eyes glowing a bright purple as he ordered his dragon to fly towards the castle.
That is when the king emerged with his dragon, a smug look on his face, oblivious to the storm that was about to hit him in the face.
-present time-
After the encounter with the king, Venkalth signalled his men to retreat, watching as the smoke rose to the sky, a mixture of human and magician ashes and he smirked, he smirked at the pile of dead magicians beneath him. He knew the king was still watching him and his army, he knew that the king's army had their eyes on them so he slowed down, ever so slightly, to hear the satisfying panic that erupted behind him.
The laughter bubbled out of his chest, twisting into a mad, blood thirsty laugh, he turned his head around, his eyes meeting the glaring, raging eyes of the king.
"Venkalth, let's do this," Lazarus said.
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"Sir Dyron, we have to be careful, we're in the middle of a battle," Darren said, his voice shaking slightly, he was starting to panic.
"How do we get out of here?"
"There must be an opening somewhere," Dyron said, peaking behind the barrels they were ducking behind, watching as armed men rushed and scrambled around, yelling incoherent words of panic. It was starting to worry Darren, it seemed like the situation was getting worse on the border, and he just didn't know if he could save Dyron.
"Dragons?!" Dyron whisper-yelled.
Darren's eyes widened as a dark shadow of wings flew over them "This isn't good," he craned his neck and his blood went cold, the dragon was huge, covered in armour-like scales, and Darren squinted, trying to make sure that he wasn't going mad, because what he saw was the king riding that thing.
"Sir Dyron, we have to blend in, we have to run around like mad men, but we have a direction, we're going to the cliffside of the castle, we need to go around,"
"Alright,"
They both stood up, and ran in the mayhem, pushing every man that bumped into them and keeping an eye on each other. The city was truly a nightmare, where civilians and soldiers mixed, where people were taking their last breath on the side of the road, where children were crying for their possibly dead mothers. Dyron shivered at the sight, he wondered who would start this conflict, who could it be? But his question was answered when a shadow rushed over him, its owner growling loudly before spraying the city with thick flames of death. He saw it, a creature so big, so mighty, like a volcano, its skin like coal and its eyes like the sun. He was terrified, so terrified he stopped running all at once until Darren's screams snapped him out of it.
"Dyron! We're almost there, ignore the dragons!"
Dyron mentally scoffed, Ignore the dragons? Yes of course.
Once they reached the cliff side of the capital, they could see clearly that this was a fight with magicians. They could see the sparks of purple and green, the fire arrows, the cloaked figures, they could clearly see, the three dragons circling the sky and Dyron's legs trembled.
"We have to climb down,"
Dyron snapped his head at Darren "Climb down?! This is too high we won't make it,"
"This is the only way, sir," and with that, Darren started to climb down the cliff. The cliff had a sort of slope to it, so that they weren't completely climbing down, they could slide down from rock to rock, but it still wasn't easy.
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The king watched as Venkalth flew away, he smiled in satisfaction, until he saw a guard wave at him from the top. He flew down to hear him.
"My King! The East...they're attacking from the East!" he panted.
"What do you mean? These are all his men, they just retreated!"
"No, my King, they're magicians, these are their clones, the real army is now surrounding us, and the people are escaping that way!"
Edmund growled in anger, he flew up again and glared at Venkalth. He looked behind him and as the guard had said, they were being attacked from the East. He should've known they would pull a dirty trick like that.
"Let's go Gurra!" Edmund said to his dragon.
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Ladies and gentlemen! The battle has just begun! Tbh this is my first time writing a battle scene so Idk if it'll work, but oh well!
Don't forget to vote and comment!

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