The territory of Kaelor, nestled in the heart of the mountain ranges, was the lifeblood of the kingdom’s resource supply.
Rich with minerals and ores, its mines fed the forges of blacksmiths, the trades of merchants, and the defenses of soldiers.
Yet, this crucial territory was not built for war.
Its army, though skilled, was scattered across the treacherous routes guarding the mines and ensuring smooth transportation of goods.
Korran, the third general of the Demon King, saw Kaelor not as a challenge but as an opportunity.
Unlike the brute force of Movok or the insidious magic of Tores, Korran was a predator who hunted with patience and precision.
A tigerkin by birth, his dual forms were a testament to his versatility.
As a humanoid, he moved like a shadow, quick and silent.
In his tiger form, he was raw power—an unstoppable beast who could tear through walls and soldiers alike.
But it was Korran’s mind that made him truly dangerous.
He was a strategist, the kind who relished dismantling his prey piece by piece before delivering the killing blow.
Months before his attack, Korran began weaving his web of destruction.
Under the cover of darkness, he infiltrated Kaelor, placing spies among the miners and merchants.
These spies fed him a steady stream of intelligence: the location of soldiers’ camps, the timing of supply routes, and even the weaknesses of the territory’s leadership.
When the time was right, Korran made his move.
The first blow was subtle but devastating.
Korran's forces, using the knowledge gleaned by his spies, severed the supply routes leading to and from Kaelor.
Roads were destroyed, bridges sabotaged, and messengers intercepted.
The once-bustling routes became silent, cutting off the territory from reinforcements and supplies.
"Why haven’t the reinforcements arrived yet?" Count Halvern, the leader of Kaelor, demanded as he paced the war room.
His advisors exchanged nervous glances, unable to provide answers.
Unbeknownst to them, Korran's forces had already begun their second phase.
One by one, the scattered camps of Donin’s soldiers fell.
Korran struck under the cover of night, his forces swift and coordinated.
At one camp, soldiers sat around a dwindling fire, sharing stories to ward off the chill of the mountain air.
The stillness was broken by the faint rustle of leaves.
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"Who's there?" one soldier called out, his voice tense.
Before he could react, a figure emerged from the shadows.
In his humanoid form, Korran moved with lethal grace, dispatching the soldier with a single strike.
His beastmen warriors followed, their claws and fangs gleaming in the moonlight.
The camp descended into chaos, but it was over almost as quickly as it began.
Similar scenes played out across the territory.
Soldiers, already spread thin, stood no chance against Korran's calculated attacks.
By the time the sun rose, the camps were deserted, the soldiers either dead or scattered.
With Kaelor isolated and defenseless, Korran unleashed the full might of his forces on the central territory.
The miners, engineers, and remaining soldiers scrambled to mount a defense, but it was futile.
Korran led the charge in his tiger form, a monstrous figure with muscles rippling under striped fur.
He tore through barricades with ease, his roar echoing through the mountains and striking terror into the hearts of his enemies.
Count Halvern stood atop the main hall, his sword drawn.
"We will not yield to monsters!" he shouted, rallying the remaining defenders.
Korran leaped onto the roof in a single bound, landing mere feet away from the Count.
He transformed back into his humanoid form, his golden eyes gleaming with a predator's focus.
"Your bravery is laughable," Korran said, his voice low and mocking.
The Count lunged, his blade aimed at Korran's heart.
But the tigerkin sidestepped with ease, his movements a blur.
With a single swipe of his clawed hand, he disarmed the Count, sending the sword clattering to the ground.
"This is the end for you," Korran growled.
He struck with his claws, and the Count fell, his body crumpling lifelessly to the stone floor.
As the central hall burned, Korran stood amidst the destruction, his forces cheering their victory.
The mines that once provided prosperity to the kingdom now lay in ruins, their entrances collapsed and their workers either dead or captured.
He transformed back into his tiger form, his silhouette illuminated by the flames, and let out a triumphant roar.
The sound echoed through the mountains, a chilling declaration that Kaelor had fallen—and the kingdom was next.
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In the heart of the forest, where the dense canopy filtered the sunlight into scattered shards of golden light, the Demon King stood tall, an imposing figure that radiated power and menace.
The air around him seemed heavier, charged with an unnatural energy that made even the bravest of creatures steer clear of his presence.
Before him knelt his three generals—Movok, the towering lizardman with scars etched across his scales like battle trophies; Korran, the cunning tigerkin whose sharp eyes gleamed with intelligence and malice; and Tores, the voodooist whose dark aura seemed to pulse like a living shadow.
“Rise,” the Demon King commanded, his voice deep and resonant, carrying an authority that could not be denied.
The generals stood, their gazes fixed on their master, awaiting his words.
“How did your missions go?” he asked, his tone calm but laced with an undertone that promised retribution for failure.
Movok was the first to speak, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder.
“It was a success, my lord. Lyshar has fallen, its soldiers crushed beneath our might.”
Korran followed, his words smooth and precise.
“The mining territory of Kaelor lies in ruin, my lord. Its defenses were dismantled piece by piece, and its lifeblood now runs dry.”
Tores merely nodded, his eerie silence speaking volumes of the chaos he had sown in Kreyas.
“Good,” the Demon King said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
His satisfaction was palpable, yet his gaze remained cold and calculating.
He turned his crimson eyes toward Korran.
“Korran, what of the humans? What are their plans?”
Korran bowed his head slightly before replying,
“My lord, they have reached out to the other kingdoms for aid. Reinforcements are being summoned.”
The Demon King tilted his head, his expression unreadable.
“Is that so?” he mused, his voice low, almost contemplative.
“Yes, my lord,” Korran continued, his tone steady.
“They plan to attack us when they believe we are weakened from the assault on Norvik.”
The Demon King’s gaze sharpened, his lips curling into a smirk.
“Fools. And what is your suggestion, Korran? You always have a plan.”
Korran stepped forward, unfurling a map from his satchel and laying it on a nearby rock.
“Indeed, my lord. The kingdoms of the dwarves, elves, and orcs have agreed to join the battle. Their forces will strike from the front while the royal knights attack from behind.”
He pointed to the map, his claws tracing the routes.
“Our goal is not to defeat them outright but to delay them, ensuring they cannot disrupt your conquest of Norvik.”
Movok crossed his arms, his scaled muscles flexing.
“And how do you propose we do that?”
Korran’s voice took on a predatory edge.
“Movok, you will handle the orcs. Meet their brute strength with your own. Your only task is to keep them engaged, to keep them from advancing.”
Movok’s lips split into a feral grin.
“Consider it done. I’ll keep those beasts occupied.”
Korran’s gaze shifted to Tores.
“Tores, the elves are yours. Use your magic to stop them.”
Tores nodded, his dark eyes glinting with unspoken delight at the prospect.
“As for the dwarves,” Korran continued, “I will face them myself. I will ensure they cannot aid the humans.”
He paused, then added with a sly smile, “The royal knights will be stalled by the rebels. They are already under my control, my lord.”
The Demon King’s gaze narrowed.
“You are certain the rebels will act?”
Korran’s confidence did not waver.
“Yes, my lord. Their anger and desperation are my tools. They will do as I command, whether they realize it or not.”
The Demon King considered the plan, his crimson eyes scanning the map before returning to Korran.
“Very well. Your strategy is sound. This will buy us the time we need to destroy Norvik and advance further.”
He straightened, his voice carrying the weight of finality.
The three generals bowed deeply, their loyalty and determination etched into their every movement.
As they turned and disappeared into the forest, the Demon King remained, his figure casting a long shadow over the ground.
“Soon, everything will be over,” he murmured, the words a promise of the chaos yet to come.