The banners of the Arkan Clan were flying everywhere. black cloth with a white swan stitched at its heart. Kingdom after kingdom had bent their knee. Many were taken as prisoners; it was their kings and queens offering submission without a drop of blood.
Arkan clan became victorious where ever they went.
Maldrin, a proud and vast kingdom nestled between misty mountains and the ocean, surrounded by dense forests, stood resolute. Its walls were strong , its towers high, and its people are brave. When the messengers of the Arkan Clan, carrying the ultimatum of Raikan and Xolia, arrived at the forts of Maldrin, the kingdom did not tremble. They were ready to face what ahead of them.
General Somalian stood before the gates of Maldrin.
The fortress was heavily guarded.
Suddenly, the gates opened.
A beautiful young woman walked toward Somalian. She was dressed in ash-colored robes, her hair decorated with red roses. Her eyes were purple, calm and unafraid. Her hair flowed like wine in the wind. Any amn can go to war to protect those face.
She looked directly into Somalian's eyes and said,
"My people will not kneel to strangers, no matter their power."
Somalian, first commander of the Arkan Clan, felt powerless for a moment. Her presence alone unsettled him—something strange bloomed in his heart. He become speechless.Regaining his senses, he drew his sword, the edge gleaming like lightning.
"I don't want to say this to your pretty face you have no choice but to bent your knees to king Raiken."
"or else prepare yourself!" he bellowed.
She laughed and said ....
I queen of maldrin soniloka will never throw my people to slavery of another clan we are free peope here....
The army surged forward. Dragons took to the skies. Horses trampled the earth. Arkan magics flared—fountains of fire, enchanted beasts, spells of domination.
Still, Maldrin held.
Then suddenly, the warlords and witches could not cast a single spell. Their hands froze. Their mouths sealed shut. They looked helpless.
Somalian did not understand what was happening.
He stood stunned.
From the northern mountains, the sound of a flute echoed.
Mist rolled across the battlefield. Horses panicked and turned back. From the clouds emerged a huge warrior figure, his presence making the very air tremble. In his hands was a long chain with a blade at its end.
A terrifying sight.
The sky darkened. His eyes shone like red lava, a strange blend of crystal blues and greens. Even the Arkan soldiers faltered.
Somalian whispered....
"Kalies."
Everyone stood frozen. Kalies had never accepted his position as the Death Lord, and after so many years, it was impossible for him to possess such power.
Fear froze their blood...
Some instinct—ancient and unshakable—guided him.
With a single gesture, the attacking dragons froze mid-air. Enchanted beasts halted. The warlords' magic bent and shattered. Somalian fell from his horse as the wind itself turned against them.
Kalies descended from the mist like a shadow of winter and darkness, his feet barely touching the ground. He swung his weapon through the air—the chain clanged, the blade split the air open.
The earth around Maldrin's gates trembled. Stones cracked. Magic backfired. The Arkan army staggered. Nobody stand a chance infrint of him.
Somalian roared, trying to regain control, but his voice meant nothing against the force before him.
Maldrin's queen stepped forward, sword in hand. She said,
"This is Maldrin.
We will never bow our heads before anyone.
This land is protected by the Death Lord.
He has promised us no harm."
Kalies stood like a sentinel of ancient power, a force no man could challenge. One glance from him was enough to make Somalian retreat, forcing the Arkan army back toward the plains.
By nightfall, Maldrin had not fallen. Its walls stood unbroken. Its people were safe.
Kalies vanished into the mist as silently as he had appeared. Not a word was spoken.
But the kingdom would never forget the guardian who came when all seemed lost—
a figure whose name would one day echo across all realms.
Kalies.