Scene: The Hunt Begins
The moment Alen's voice echoed—"Begin the Hunt"—the world held its breath.
What followed was not war.
It was slaughter.
Crimson banners tore through the air like falling stars. The sky turned red—not from sunset, but from blood rising in mist.
The first clash began at the gates of the Western Kingdom.
Within hours, it became a massacre.
Blades danced like reapers.
Heads rolled like scattered fruit in a harvest.
Bodies fell like discarded husks, blood soaking into the very bones of the earth.
Narrator:
"The kingdom became a butchered shrine.
Roads, once paved with gold and marble, were now soaked in a flood—not of rain,
but of blood.
Blood that flooded into the alleyways, seeped through temples, and painted statues in crimson."
And atop this battlefield stood one man—
Scene: Alen the Slayer
Alen, the Lion's cub, no longer a boy of guilt and hesitation.
His armor shone black and red, his eyes void of mercy.
He moved like a storm of steel.
Narrator:
"He did not fight—he executed.
200,000 elite warriors.
Cultivators who once shattered mountains.
Sorcerers who once commanded storms.
All fell before him."
He bore no injury. Not a scratch.
Alen (to himself, as he stands amidst the bodies):
"This isn't power…
This is retribution.
Every drop of blood on my blade…
is one tear my love shed."
---
Scene: Lyra Rises
Far from the shy girl who once stood behind palace curtains, Lyra now fought beside the Lions.
Her sword glowed blue, the icy flame of her Northern Dragon bloodline surging through her veins.
She leapt into the air, decapitating a Death Knight, then spun through a group of elite war priests.
Lyra (roaring):
"You made me watch him bleed!
You made me hide… cry… break!
Now you'll see what I've become!"
Her power awakened fully. Her Dragon heritage flared.
Everywhere she passed, enemies froze and shattered like glass.
Narrator:
"She became more than a warrior—
She became a storm given flesh."
---
Scene: The Roar of the Lion and Dragon
Behind them, the Crimson Lions and Northern Dragons pushed forward as one unstoppable tide.
Neither clan lost a single life.
The Crimson Vanguard, a unit of only 45, each slain over 10,000 enemies alone, their blades weeping blood.
Narrator:
"This was not a war.
This was a warning.
A lesson written in blood."
The Northern Dragons, led by Ryen, tore through battalions, burning fortresses to ash, their wings casting shadows that stretched across mountains.
And then came the end.
---
Scene: Throne of Ashes
The gates of the royal palace shattered.
The once-proud golden throne now sat in silence, surrounded by the corpses of 20 million.
Alen entered first.
Not with rage.
Not with vengeance.
But with a calm so terrifying the Queen's knees buckled.
Queen (sobbing, trembling):
"Have… have you come to punish us?"
Alen (stepping over bodies):
"I came because you made her cry.
And for that… you die."
The King, pale and trembling, tried to speak—but Alen's blade flashed.
In one motion, both the King and Queen's heads fell to the floor, rolling across the blood-slicked marble.
Narrator:
"Not a scream.
Not a plea.
Just silence… and the end of an empire."
---
Scene: The Statement
Standing atop the ruined throne, with the sun rising behind him and millions watching across magical broadcasts, Alen raised his blade high.
The world heard his words.
Alen (calm, thunderous):
"Let it be known.
If you touch one Lion…
The pride will hunt.
We will not rest.
Not forget.
Not forgive.
We are not kings.
We are not gods.
We are Lions.
And we do not share tears… only vengeance."
The sky itself trembled. Across the continents, kingdoms bowed their heads.
No one would ever dare raise a hand toward the Crimson Lion Clan again.
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