The chill of dawn clung to the Borderlands' fields, and mist wove through the dense trees like phantom veils. The sun had yet to rise above the eastern mountains, casting long shadows across the battlefield. Tension hung in the air, thick enough to be cut with a sword. Vincent Maximillian Von Amsberg stood on a high cliff above the expanse, his cloak billowing in the wind like a dark banner.

His cold, calculating eyes scanned the field below. Far away, he could see Arlen Stormrider's forces moving faintly—long columns of men, horses, and siege engines, their banners fluttering with symbols of honor and righteousness. Vincent's lips curled with disdain. Arlen believed that his ideals were strong.

Beside him stood Reinhardt Blackthorne, his armor gleaming in the dim light, and Elise Ravenshade, her golden eyes gleaming with amusement as she watched the enemy approach.

"The Stormrider army moves quickly," Reinhardt said, his voice a low growl. "They will reach the outer perimeter by midday."

Vincent's gaze remained fixed on the horizon. "Let them come." They will find only ruin waiting for them."

Elise's gentle laughter filled the air. "Arlen is a noble fool, isn't he?" So eager to rush into battle, believing he fights for justice." She turned to Vincent, her eyes filled with malicious glee. "What are you going to do with him, my prince?" Will you crush his spirit first, or make him beg before you strike?

Vincent's eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice remained calm and composed. "Arlen should not be underestimated. He is not an ordinary man. The System has already informed me that his strength will increase as we get closer to the battle. He looked down at the map spread out in front of them, covered in markers and notes. "However, strength without cunning is useless. We'll let him believe he has the upper hand. We will reinforce his belief in his cause. Then, when the time comes, we will take it all away."

Reinhardt grunted and crossed his arms. "And how will we draw him in?

Vincent's lips formed a faint smile. "Border villages. We will let him take them. He needs early victories to maintain his momentum, rally his men, and keep their morale up. However, these victories will be meaningless. They will be traps, designed to direct him to the location of our choosing."

Elise tilted her head, intrigued. "And where will that place be?"

Vincent raised his hand, pointing to a location on the map. "Here. In the Valley of the Kings. It is narrow, with only two entry points. We can flank him on two sides, pin him down, and isolate his forces. We can kill him once he is trapped."

Reinhardt nodded in approval. "This is a sound strategy. But what about Arlen himself?

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Vincent's eyes darkened. "Leave him to me."

Far across the battlefield, Arlen Stormrider led his army, his heart filled with righteous rage. The stories about Vincent's cruelty, manipulations, and the Amsberg family's shady dealings sparked a fire within him. He had grown up hearing stories about Avalonia's heroes—his ancestors, the great defenders of the realm. Now it was his turn to take up the mantle and rid the kingdom of Vincent's corruption.

His most trusted advisors rode alongside him, their faces filled with worry. Sir Gareth, his loyal knight and mentor, leaned closer to his lord, his voice low and cautious. "My Lord, we must tread carefully. Vincent is unlike other men. "He will not fight honorably."

Arlen sat up straight in his saddle, his jaw set. "I know Vincent's reputation. But we fight for something much bigger than his schemes. We fight for justice. "The people of Avalonia will rally behind our cause."

Sir Gareth furrowed his brow, but remained silent. The older knight had witnessed too much bloodshed in his life to believe in ideals alone. He had heard whispers about Vincent's dark power, and how the prince could manipulate fate itself. But Arlen's faith was unwavering, and it had always guided him correctly.

As they approached the first of the border villages, Arlen's mood improved. The villagers welcomed him as a hero, cheering as his banners flew in the wind. The small garrison of Amsberg troops stationed there fell.

Sir Gareth thought it was too easy, his hand resting uneasily on the hilt of his sword.

But Arlen recognized it as a sign. The people wanted him to take the lead and free them from Vincent's grasp. Victory followed victory as they captured more villages along the border, pushing deeper into Amsberg territory.

However, with each step forward, the army felt a strange unease. Whispers of shadows lurking in the trees and strange occurrences began to circulate among the men. Soldiers reported seeing ghostly figures and flashes of movement in the night, but none could explain them.

In the dead of night, Sir Gareth went to Arlen's tent. "My lord, something is wrong. These victories... they come too easily. We have gained territory, but Vincent's forces have not fully engaged us. "He is playing with us."

Arlen turned away from the map he was studying, his expression determined. "Vincent is underestimating us, Gareth. He thinks we're weak. That's his mistake. We will press forward and confront him in the heart of Amsberg territory."

But as Arlen spoke, a cold wind blew through the tent, sending shivers down both men's backs. It carried a dark whisper that seemed to portend doom.

Back at Amsberg Castle, Vincent stood once more in front of the grand hearth, surrounded by his allies. Selene Nightveil approached with gleaming dark eyes and a quiet satisfied smile.

"It is done, Your Highness," she said quietly. "Arlen's forces are stretched thin, and doubt spreads among his men. "The seeds of fear and uncertainty have been planted."

Vincent nodded and fixed his gaze on the fire. "Good. Let him come. Let him believe he's winning."

Reinhardt grunted his approval. "And when do we strike?"

Vincent curved his lips into a cold smile. "Soon. But not yet. We'll let him enjoy the sweetness of victory for a little longer. Then we'll show him the consequences of defying the Amsbergs.

Elise's laughter rang throughout the chamber. "And what a price it will be."

Vincent turned to face his companions with a fierce expression. Arlen believes he is fighting for justice. But he has not yet realized that there is no justice in this world. There's only power. And I'll show him what real power looks like."

As the fire crackled and the wind howled outside, Vincent's gaze shifted to the horizon.

The battle for Avalonia had just begun.

And only one of them would emerge victorious.