Rogg's eyes narrowed sharply. He raised his spear, spun the shaft, and planted it firmly into the ground. As Bondor charged, swinging his forked greatsword, Rogg swiftly ducked and evaded.
The second strike came faster, heavier. But Rogg's spear met it.Clang!The clash of weapons rang out across the valley.
Rogg was thrown back! His body rolled across the ground—but he wasn't hurt.
"He's down!" shouted the Balevad troops.
But Damerius shook his head, eyes narrowed. "No… he's pretending."
Magnoli nodded. "Rogg is studying Bondor's fighting style. He's waiting for the right opening."
And they were right. When Bondor attacked again, Rogg didn't retreat. He met every strike head-on. His body darted like a shadow, his spear spinning—shaping both shield and attack in one seamless motion.
The soldiers on both sides could only watch in awe.The duel between these two war-beasts… had begun.
Two titans now stood face-to-face at the heart of the battlefield. The very earth around them seemed to hold its breath. Even the air turned heavy.
Bondor swung first—a wide, horizontal slash strong enough to split stone. But Rogg didn't flinch. He blocked with Dragnir, and though he was pushed back a few steps, his feet remained rooted like anchors.
Clangg!The sharp clash of metal echoed powerfully.No one watching could look away.This was no mere clash of soldiers—it was a battle of leaders. A battle of honor.An Emperor against a cold-blooded killer.
"DIE, ROGG!!" Bondor roared, unleashing a storm of relentless strikes. Each blow carried brute force, but Rogg parried them with uncanny precision. Attack, dodge, counter—Rogg danced through the chaos with a rhythm that drove Bondor mad.
Blood trickled down Rogg's cheek—a shallow cut, but enough to ignite the fire in his chest.
"I spared your life once, and now you offer it up yourself?" Rogg hissed, eyes blazing. "You should've returned to your people… Though I will never forgive what you did to Migase. And now you bring your life... along with your sins."
With a single stomp, Rogg lunged forward—Dragnir spinning, the tip slamming into Bondor's gut with crushing force.
"AAARGHH!!"Bondor staggered, but didn't fall. He retaliated, spinning with full force, nearly slicing into Rogg's shoulder.Dragnir rose—parrying just in time.
The duel turned feral.No more words.Only breathless grunts and the clash of steel.The ground cracked beneath them. Dust swirled.Sweat, blood, and vengeance fused into every movement.
Bondor, driven by raw rage, began to lose his footing.
"You've got strength… but it's hollow," Rogg said, thrusting the tip of his spear beneath Bondor's ribs.
"UAAAGH!" Bondor howled in agony. But he still stood, sword trembling in his grip.
"YOU'RE NO GOD! YOU'RE NOTHING!" he screamed, charging once more.
Rogg didn't dodge.
He stepped forward. In a flash, he plunged the tip of Dragnir into the ground, then vaulted upward—using the spear as a pivot, he spun through the air.
Mid-spin, Rogg drew Velkyria from behind his back… and BLESSHH!
The blade struck Bondor's shoulder, then drove through his right chest.
Bondor crashed to the ground with a thunderous thud.
Silence.
Not a single voice.
Blood poured from Bondor's chest. He groaned... then slowly, his vision dimmed.His eyes stared at the darkening sky, and he knew—it was over.
Rogg stood tall.
With Dragnir in his right hand and Velkyria—a blade not long, but forged of Lovarian steel—in his left, he turned to face the silent enemy ranks.
"One more," he said quietly. "Another prince of Balevad… has fallen."
The Whiteheaven troops erupted into cheers.
"LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR! LONG LIVE ROGG!!"
The cry echoed across all of Blacksand.
While Bolisi, Billok, and Neroxius stood, jaws clenched. The realization began to sink in...Rogg lifted Bondor's severed head high into the air.Blood still dripped from the fallen prince's lifeless face, dangling in the emperor's grasp. The crimson trail ran down Dragnir—the legendary spear that had just delivered justice.A thunderous roar erupted from the Whiteheaven ranks.
But there was no time to celebrate.Rage exploded within the enemy's lines.
"ATTACK!! DESTROY THEM!" Bolisi's voice tore through the sky."ALL UNITS, ADVANCE!" Neroxius raised his arm and signaled Prince Todius and Dorges.
The combined Balevad and Larfex armies surged forward like a crashing storm. The earth trembled beneath their march. Screams, the clash of steel, and the pounding of war drums signaled the onset of an unavoidable battle.
"They're coming! They're charging!" shouted one of the imperial soldiers.
Rogg and Vuuxi dashed back to the frontline. Rogg's eyes swept toward the northwest—and froze.Hundreds of thousands.
From the north, an unexpected force appeared. Not imperial soldiers. Not elite guards.But the people of Blacksand.
Slaves, merchants, craftsmen, farmers, builders—men who now raised whatever weapons they could find. Nearly a hundred thousand of them.
"What?! Who summoned them?!" Rogg growled, breath ragged.
Damerius approached, face grim, Glacera already drawn in his hands."I did! I called them! We need every hand that can wield a blade!" he shouted.
Rogg shook his head. "They're untrained... they'll be slaughtered."
"Or they'll be the distraction we need. At the very least, they'll slow the enemy!" Damerius snapped, firm in his conviction.
Rogg drew a deep breath. His gaze turned skyward, where the light had begun to turn gold."Hear my command!" his voice echoed across the battlefield."Hold the line until the sun sets! Do not let them breach our defenses!"
And then—the battlefield erupted.
Enemy waves crashed into Whiteheaven's defenses. Line met line, steel met steel. Blood splattered across the fields. Screams of pain, the roar of death, and the screeching clash of metal filled the air.
Solvaris cut down two foes at once with his twin blades.Thundrek stood firm against three giants, his axe dripping with blood.Dazareth—the flame-wielding swordsman—engulfed enemy troops in infernos of living fire.Xarvos and Zendaris fought back-to-back, slicing through enemy ranks in an unending dance of death.
The elite Doliex warriors stood like an impenetrable wall. But the enemy kept coming, relentless, uncaring of the cost.
Elsewhere, the people of Blacksand fought with everything they had. Some wielded only farming tools, wooden spears, even stones—but they fought with fire in their hearts.For their city.For their children and families, long oppressed.
Yet the truth remained harsh.Blood ran thick through the streets.
The deaths of five elite Doliex commanders sent shockwaves through the lines. They fell one by one, fighting until their final breath.
"Thundrek! Fall back!" Dazareth yelled.
But Thundrek only laughed, blood spilling from his lips."I'll die like a lion—not like a shadow!"
The sun began to set behind the crumbling city of Blacksand. A golden light bathed the broken ground and the lifeless bodies strewn across it.
That day...Whiteheaven lost 30,000 elite knights.And 60,000 Blacksand citizens died with weapons in hand.
But the enemy paid dearly.120,000 soldiers from the Balevad-Larfex alliance fell and rotted upon the battlefield.
The fighting ceased as the sun vanished behind the western horizon.But the stench of blood lingered.And night did not promise peace.
That day, the battle ended exactly at sunset.The sky bled crimson, as if mourning the sea of blood that drenched the grounds of Blacksand.
Though the Whiteheaven Empire had suffered fewer casualties, the loss of the elite Doliex warriors was a wound that could not be mended.Their finest knights—the backbone of their war effort—had perished.And without them, Whiteheaven's army felt fragile...Like a fortress wall with no support beneath it.