The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the sprawling battlefield.
It would only be a short time now and the sun would descend beneath the horizon, taking with it the last tendrils of daylight and casting these fields into darkness.
These sprawling fields, the 'Rolling Marshes' as they had been known for centuries were once wide fields of lush and vibrant greenery,
Situated at the unclaimed lands that bordered the territories of the five great races and the Nether Night... the dark lands of the Nyxborn.
It had been home to the greatest variety of wildflowers, a place where the body would find rest, the mind would find awe and the heart would find peace.
To speak of men who did not long to bask in the beauty of these marshes? Oh! There had been none.
But such was so far in the past that it was already hard to remember and the marshes cast in the sun rays was nothing but a battle worn field of rocky devastation.
Seven long and devastating years of war, it had been, and most of these wars had graced these fields, what beauty could still be found?
Not a single greenery or anything bearing life was within sight for as far as the eyes could see,
What had once been an awe inspiring monument of nature was now an eerie battlefield bathed in the blood and bones of the hundreds of lives lost to the war.
And now, once again, these fields would bathe in a fresh wave of blood as two great armies stood.
A tense silence settled over the land, the air was heavy with anticipation, and a sense of foreboding hung on every breath.
On one side of the battlefield was the final resistance of the five great races,
Canines, Fanged, Witches and the Fae, fighting side by side, as they should have long before.
And on the other side was a great army of horrifying monsters and thousands of soldiers clad in pitch black armour, the great army of Nether-night.
Both great armies, like two colossal titans ready to clash.
The stillness was eerie, almost palpable. The usual clamor of war still hung far on the horizon,
And in its place was that unsettling quietude.
A thousand emotions were reflected from a thousand eyes,
Faces of the warriors etched with weariness, determination, and even fear.
The weight of the impending battle rested heavily on their shoulders, a thousand hearts pounded in unease and trepidation.
The silence of the battlefield was punctuated only by the occasional gust of wind, rustling through the cloaks donned by the witches and the soldiers of Nether-night.
Yet even the wind dared not disturb the fragile equilibrium of this moment.
The rays of the setting sun illuminated the scene, casting an ethereal glow, one that was quite melancholic, given the sight it would soon grace... the impending conflict.
At the forefront of the unified resistance of the five races, a lone figure stood.
He was clad in casual leather breeches and a grey tunic, perhaps the most casually dressed amongst the thousands.
It seemed more like he had come for frolicking and not a war, yet his attire was nothing in the light of his aura.
He was a man of a great build, tall and broad with hair as black as ink woven into fine braids.
His appearance was youthful, a warrior that was clearly still in his teens yet the gruesomeness of battle had already left its mark on him.
His gaze was fierce and cold, eyes pools of gold that were as terrifying as they were unusual.
"We are the seven silver warlords of Nether-night! And all five kings of the five races died at our very hands! As did every commander that has come forward after!"
"Seven years of battle...we have never faced a defeat! Who comes before us?! State your identity, commander!" A deep, imposing voice called from the ranks of Nether-night.
It took a moment, but the young man finally did respond, his voice a rich baritone thick with hatred.
"Kazim...Kazim Rugeal, I have no title, but that as the son of Alpha Rugeal of Blackthorn Pack, who fell at your blade." He said, his voice was calm and steady.
"Ah! Rugeal the Canine warlord, a great warrior he was."
"You know of your father's fate, then you must know what fate you shall face today, young wolf." The warlord of Nether-night taunted confidently.
"Our army far outnumbers yours, twice over. The five races are weary from war, weak and starving. The outcome of this battle is already clear." Another of the seven warlords cackled.
Kazim was quiet, for a moment, he lowered his head in thought, a gesture that was mistaken for accepting defeat.
"Good! You are wiser than your father was, now surrender and I will grant a merciful death." The first warlord demanded.
Again, the battlefield fell into silence as all awaited the decision of the young commander leading the five races.
At this exact moment, a distant rumble of thunder echoed across the field, adding an ominous undertone to the atmosphere, even the heavens themselves anticipated what was soon to unfold.
"No." Came Kazim's simple response.
"No?!" The first warlord of Nether-night asked in bafflement.
"I do know that the war is lost. I do know, the five great races have fallen...but shall I tell you why I have named my army the unified resistance?" Kazim murmured as his gaze lifted once again.
There was a terrifying glimmer in those golden eyes, and a fierce aura exuded from the young canine.
"I have not come here to seek mercy, or to seek life... I have come to die." He continued fiercely.
"But as the last Rugeal, I swear this to you... that my claws shall take with me hundreds of you." Kazim vowed menacingly.
The army of the five races made not a single sound, but every heart echoed Kazim's vow.
Time seemed to stretch, as if the world held its breath in this fleeting moment.
It was a melancholic pause, a brief respite before the storm,
And then, as if the spell was broken, the first warlord of Nether-night gave the order.
"Then you shall have your wish, Kazim Rugeal... today, you shall fall to the same blade that pierced your father's heart." The warlord vowed with a determination that rivalled Kazim's.
And then, a wave of hand determined the rest, the attack order was given, shattering the stillness.
The sound of the battle cries reverberated through the air, sending adrenaline coursing through the veins of the warriors.
It was a deafening sound that echoed for miles beyond the bloody battlefields.
Clangs of steel against steel, the ferocious roars of the mighty beasts shook the very earth even as they lunged, Canines and Nyxborn alike.
The calm was shattered, the eerie silence was no more, and the cacophony of war had taken its place.
The two great forces collided, and the great yet final battle of this gruelling war began.