Upon receiving Dracule's order, the cavalry immediately sprang into action, displaying the unwavering solidarity of the Assyrian Empire. In a remarkably short amount of time, the horses were prepared, and Dracule, eager for the impending hunt, mounted his horse and led the cavalry with fierce determination. Despite the darkness of the night, the troops moved like a torrent, devouring everything in their path with calm efficiency.
Following Dracule's departure, Darius wasted no time in summoning all the officers in the war camp. Through his impeccable leadership and quick thinking, he was able to secure their acknowledgement and become the new leader of the army. He then dispatched his fastest horse towards Norwich to deliver a crucial message.
Upon receiving the news of Dracule's approach, the kings in Norwich acted swiftly. As the cavalry left for the valley, the city gates were flung open, and a massive number of troops poured out. A carefully coordinated net was deployed, silently surrounding Emperor Dracule, who remained blissfully unaware of the impending danger. Dracule had grown overconfident after days of victories, bolstered by the power of God within him. Even as he passed through Norwich City, he smiled confidently, proclaiming his future dominion over the continent and the wealth that would follow. His soldiers shared his enthusiasm, shouting their support as they rode alongside him.
Relying on Darius's information, Dracule was soon able to spot the cavalry of the Babylonian Empire. The enemy troops galloped madly, like a pack of hyenas in fear. However, the swift riding reputation of the Assyrian Empire was well known, and it was impossible for the Babylonian cavalry to outrun them. Dracule even spotted the Royal Family's flag, indicating that the Babylonian Emperor was present.
"Ha ha ha ha," Dracule laughed heartily. "Run swiftly, my men! Our prey lies ahead. We will capture the Emperor alive!" His words inspired his troops, who followed him fearlessly. The Babylonian cavalry was spooked by Dracule's fast approach and did not dare to engage him in battle, retreating as quickly as possible, leaving their troops behind.
Dracule was delighted by the cowardice of the Babylonians, urging his horse to run even faster, determined to catch up with them. As they entered the Sunset Mountains, the Babylonian soldiers turned around and lined up, bravely facing Dracule's cavalry. Dracule was impressed by their courage, believing that even in their last stand, the enemy soldiers had shown dignity.
Dracule brought his horse to an abrupt halt, the muscles in his arms bulging as he tightened his grip on the reins. He held his head high, his piercing gaze fixed on the men before him. With an air of unshakable confidence, he spoke with a voice like thunder: "Summon your Emperor," he declared, his words carrying a weight of authority that could not be ignored, "for I shall let him speak his last."
Morgan, undaunted by Dracule's show of strength, stepped forward and chuckled, his voice ringing out like a challenge. "Dracule," he said, a hint of amusement in his tone, "you've got it wrong. Your Majesty is not here at all, at least not with the cavalry. It's just us brave men standing before you." Despite the danger that lurked in Dracule's words, Morgan's bravado remained unbroken, and his eyes glinted with a fierce determination.
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Dracule's eyes narrowed, and a cruel smile played across his lips. He was the conqueror of nations, the scourge of the weak, and he would brook no insolence from a mere boy. "What?" he growled, his voice dripping with venom. "The Emperor of the Babylonian Empire has run away? How disappointing. But even if he's not here now, it matters little. The fall of Norwich City is inevitable, and when it comes, I will settle the bill with Charles myself."
A sense of smug satisfaction filled Dracule's heart as he spoke, and he surveyed the scene before him with an air of arrogant superiority. He was untouchable, invincible, and he knew it.
With an ominous grin, Dracula leaned in, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic figure before him. "You speak with such conviction, boy. I am intrigued. Pray tell, who are you to make such bold claims?"
Morgan's eyes glinted like shards of ice as he spoke, his words both poetic and frightening. "I am the shadow that creeps in the night, the harbinger of your demise. Your end draws near, and no amount of cunning or strength can save you from the fate that awaits."
"Hmh." The sound echoed through the clearing, deep and hollow like the voice of a crypt. Dracule's piercing gaze swept over the dwarf, his expression inscrutable.
"Arrogant? Foolish? I cannot tell," he rumbled, his words reverberating with power. "Killing you would be far too easy," the voice sneered, thick with malevolent arrogance. "It would be a mercy, a kindness that you do not deserve. Needless bloodshed is beneath me," he continued, the words dripping with a chilling haughtiness.
As he dismounted from his steed, the ground shook beneath him, and his army of fearless soldiers stood behind him, their eyes fixed on the dwarf with a cold, menacing glare. "You do well to show respect when speaking to noble blood, dwarf," Dracule intoned, his voice resonating with an otherworldly aura. "For I am the lord of this world, the master of steel, and my power is beyond measure."
Dracule eyes glinted with a cold, calculating stare that seemed to strip the air of warmth. "I have other plans for you. Plans that will make you wish for death's sweet embrace," he added, lips twisting into a cruel smile.
"To us, your words may sound like hollow nonsense, but to us, they are the very essence of our existence," he proclaimed, his voice ringing out with stoic poise and poetic power. Morgan's words echoed across the battlefield with a power that left no heart untouched. His eyes glinted with an unyielding determination that dared anyone to challenge his resolve.
With a heart full of unwavering conviction, Morgan stood tall before the Emperor. "We shall prove ourselves, no matter the cost. No tyrant, no matter how powerful, can claim our lives without a fight." His gaze bore into Dracule, challenging him to meet their resolve.
"We will ride out the storm of war," he declared, his words imbued with a fiery passion that stirred the hearts of all who heard him. "We shall defend our freedom, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight losing battles, in the fields, in the streets, and in the hills. We shall never surrender, never give up."
With a mighty roar, Morgan raised his sword, the sound of steel ringing through the air. "TO WAR!" he cried, his voice carrying far and wide, a rallying cry to all who would stand against the darkness. "And mark my words," he added, his eyes blazing with an unshakeable belief, "the people of Gaia will carry on the struggle until this world of war ends, and the rescue and liberation itself will come from us!"