BOOOOOOOOM!!!
Kalakuta crashes through the outer gates of the Royal Palace like a force of nature, his massive club—Pathfinder—crushing stone and steel with equal ease.
The Royal Knights are waiting.
They stand in formation across the palace courtyard, hundreds of the Southern Kingdom's finest warriors, each representing a different discipline of combat. This is the King's final defense, the accumulated might of generations of martial tradition.
Kalakuta doesn't slow down.
The first wave consists of Shamans, their bodies adorned with ritual markings that glow with mystical powers.
Special Resources dance around them in a ritualistic circle.
They raise their hands in unison, and reality itself seems to warp around Kalakuta.
"Binding Hex of the Serpent King!"
Ethereal chains materialize from thin air, wrapping around his limbs with crushing force. The magical constructs burn where they touch his skin, hissing like acid against his near-invulnerable hide.
