The ground trembled as Kael Grimshade’s army advanced, their march a thunderous rhythm that echoed across the valley. The war had waged for months, but today marked the final assault. The last stronghold of the enemy stood on the horizon, its walls high and proud, but its defenders weary. The banners that once fluttered with defiance now hung limply in the cold wind, their colors dulled by smoke and dust.

Kael watched from atop a ridge, his eyes narrowed against the ash-choked sky. His soldiers moved with disciplined precision, their armor gleaming in the dim light. The dark ranks of Eldranth stretched across the battlefield like an unbreakable tide, their shields interlocked, their swords drawn. Behind them, siege engines creaked and groaned, ready to unleash their fury upon the beleaguered fortress.

His commanders awaited his signal, their gazes fixed on him with a mixture of anticipation and fear. Kael’s expression was as cold and unyielding as the iron walls of his citadel. The kingdom before him was a prize he had coveted for years, its lands fertile, its resources abundant, its strategic position essential to his plans for expansion. He could already see the banners of Eldranth flying from its towers, the spoils of victory filling his coffers.

But there was still the matter of the defenders. Among them, Kael had noticed a figure who fought with a fierce determination, standing out even among the chaos of battle. A warrior who moved with the precision of a knight, or perhaps a leader trying to inspire their soldiers in a final desperate stand. Whether this person was a simple soldier, a noble with a claim to the throne, or even a royal heir, Kael could not say. But their resistance had drawn his attention.

The defenders were brave, but bravery alone could not withstand the might of Eldranth. Kael raised his hand, and a horn sounded, deep and resonant, echoing across the battlefield. His archers released a hail of arrows, darkening the sky. The siege engines launched their deadly payloads, massive stones crashing into the walls with thunderous force. The ground shook, and the walls began to crack and crumble.

Kael spurred his horse forward, leading his vanguard into the fray. His blade, a cruel length of dark steel, gleamed in the dim light. The defenders fought valiantly, but they were outnumbered and exhausted. His soldiers cut through their lines like a scythe through wheat, pushing them back step by step.

The figure who had caught Kael's eye earlier fought fiercely, refusing to give ground. Kael watched with cold interest as they held their position, rallying those around them with sheer determination. He could respect their courage, but there was no room for respect in his conquest. He had not come to admire; he had come to conquer.

Finally, the gates were breached. Kael's forces surged through the opening, and the defenders began to falter. The tide had turned irrevocably. The enemy’s banner fell to the mud, trampled beneath the boots of Eldranth’s soldiers. The last of the resistance was crushed beneath the weight of overwhelming force. The figure Kael had been watching fought to the end, but they were eventually surrounded, forced to surrender.

Kael rode up to them, his cold eyes meeting theirs. There was defiance still in that gaze, a flicker of fire that had yet to be extinguished. He dismounted, his armored boots landing heavily on the blood-soaked ground, and approached.

"You fought well," Kael said, his voice like a blade against stone. "Tell me your name, or else I have to break your jaw." Whether they were a peasant, a knight, or something more, Kael did not care. They were now a captive of war, a symbol of his victory over a fallen kingdom.

"And now... take off their helmet and let me see who's hiding under it." He gave a signal, and his guards stepped forward, forcibly removing the helmet from the defeated warrior.