In the dark interiors of the castle, where over twenty years ago a cruel battle took place, the halls were traversed by the ancient King of the nation of Artizan, Lord Orlox. The shadowy echoes of sinister creatures lurked among the corridors until they reached the throne room.
Seated in his chair, a shadowy figure rose. He was a slender man, dressed in imposing red armor with skin as pale as snow. From his helmet protruded a mane of black with streaks of red, like blood.
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This man, known to his followers as King Dracula, approached a large portrait of a young man of similar age to his own, full of vitality and dreams. As he gazed upon the solemn painting, a tear escaped his cheek. His sadness was interrupted by a strange yet familiar voice:
"I believe you know his answer," said the voice. "And, to your dismay, it was no. He could not be proud of the brother who had become a monster... I, on the other hand..."
Dracula looked towards the nearest mirror and his reflection transformed into the ancient Lord of the vampires, who laughed grotesquely and mockingly.
"Shut up!" exclaimed the king, punching the mirror, shattering it into pieces. In each shard, he saw smiling and sinister images. Seven colossal shadows that made him seem like a mere ant, gods producing a cacophony of inhuman, monstrous, and visceral laughter, mocking him, he would never forget their names: Shiva, Anuket, Thor, Fenrir, Baldur, Amanita, and... Nosferatu.
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"You were nothing but reflections of my victories," the king invoked with his dark power a sword emanating dense and powerful energy. Fire emanated from his crimson eyes, he feared nothing, his fury was as terrible as his thirst for revenge, so great that he was prepared to fight them all at once. "You were nothing but the source of my power. You were nothing but my past conquests! All to achieve peace! All to bring liberation to this land of Calamity!"
Before the fragments fell and shattered, the voice of Nosferatu echoed one last time.
"Did you bring peace or did you become one of us? Another Drakan?"
The hall returned to its usual silence after the laughter slowly dissipated into the echoes of silence. The king, shaken, watched his hand, cut by the blow, regenerate, took a breath, and before returning to his chair, was surprised by an explosion at the door of his chambers.
From the smoke and flames emerged a stoic figure, a warrior in emerald armor. His presence resembled that of a protective and furious lion. The armored helmet only revealed eyes filled with anger and determination to the monarch.
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The emerald knight drew his sword as he declared:
"Dracula, Lord of the vampires, I, the Artizan Lion, shall be your executioner and redeemer."
Dracula gave a nostalgic smile. Convincing himself inwardly, he whispered:
"All for the peace of my kingdom."