The Fall of Nations
The Red Emperor's wrath swept across the world like an unstoppable storm. One by one, the kingdoms that dared to challenge him fell beneath his might.
His armies marched without rest, conquering cities, toppling monarchies, and executing traitors. His name became a legend, whispered in both fear and reverence.
But war is never without its scars.
The Half-Dead Man
As the Red Emperor and his forces traveled through a desolate battlefield, they stumbled upon a dying man.
His body was covered in wounds, his breath faint. His once-magnificent armor was broken, soaked in blood. He had clearly fought a losing battle-but against whom?
Most would have left him to die. The Red Emperor, however, did not.
"Why waste time on a dead man?" one of his generals questioned.
The Red Emperor stared at the fallen warrior. There was something different about him.
"Because he refuses to die," the emperor replied.
With a simple wave of his hand, powerful healing energy surged into the man's body. His broken bones mended, his torn flesh repaired itself, and his dull eyes flickered open.
For the first time in days, the man breathed.
Who Is He?
The man gasped for air, confusion clouding his gaze as he looked upon his savior.
"Who are you?" he croaked.
The Red Emperor smirked. "A monster, or so they say."
A faint chuckle escaped the wounded warrior's lips. "Then perhaps the world needs more monsters."
Something in the Red Emperor's heart stirred.
"Tell me," he commanded. "Who did this to you?"
The man's gaze darkened. "The one who wishes to end you."
The war was far from over. And now, the Red Emperor knew an even greater enemy waited in the shadows.