The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, orange glow across the training ground. In the midst of the arena, Zeral sat with a commanding presence, his silver skin shimmering faintly. The air buzzed with anticipation as soldiers and apprentices gathered, whispering among themselves about the impending battle. Little did they know, it was not a real battle but a training session that would etch itself into the memories of those present.
As the hushed murmurs continued, a figure emerged from the shadows, the clinking of armor and the soft echo of footsteps signaling Donatella's entrance. She stepped into the open arena, her eyes catching Zeral's gaze. With a nod of gratitude, she expressed her longing for his son's company during this training. "I miss him so much," she confessed.
Zeral, wearing a reassuring smile, responded, "He is in heaven, watching you and cheering for you to beat me." The words carried a warmth that seemed to dispel the tension in the air, replacing it with a sense of purpose and determination. The audience listened, captivated by the exchange between the seasoned warrior and the young princess, who was eager to prove herself.
"Are you ready?" Zeral's question hung in the air, and Donatella, with a determined nod, replied, "Yes." The moment the affirmation left her lips, Zeral's form blurred into motion. It was as if time itself struggled to keep pace with the rapid movement.
In the blink of an eye, Zeral closed the distance, a fleeting shadow that momentarily instilled fear in Donatella. Her hands trembled, and the air around her seemed to shudder with the force of his speed. A surge of panic gripped her, the instinct of self-preservation urging her to brace for an impending strike.
Yet, as suddenly as it began, Zeral's movement halted. He stood before her, a triumphant smile playing on his lips. His hand gently patted her head, the touch surprisingly soft. "I got you," he declared, his words playing through the arena, a mixture of surprise and relief settling over the onlookers. The brief scare served as a lesson, a reminder that within the powerful warrior existed a mentor, guiding her through the intricacies of combat.
"What?" Donatella exclaimed in shock, her eyes widening at Zeral's challenge. With a smile, he responded, "You want to train with me? You expect me to go easy on you?" Her mind raced, grappling with the insanity of the proposition. Zeral swiftly explained, "Well, those monsters aren't slow like humans, and they are stronger. The only way to defeat them is by outsmarting them and attacking with precision. You must also have stamina. So, for that purpose, I want you to come after me and try to hit me. If you do, you win."
He instructed her to try and strike him. As she attempted to close the gap, Zeral expertly evaded her swings, encouraging her, "Hit me, come on." Despite her best efforts, her arms ached from the repeated attempts. Exhausted, she stumbled and fell, gasping for breath. Zeral approached her, stating, "I hit you now, and you die. You must stay strong and keep moving." Struggling to her feet, she took her sword and swung at him, but he deftly avoided the attack, allowing her to fall face-first into the sand.
Zeral warned, "Be careful, or you may hurt yourself," hinting that the stakes were real with an actual sword. Down on the ground, she coughed, the reality of her weakness sinking in. Tears welled up as she tried to stand. Zeral, looking down at her, declared, "You are weak! Give up and never return..." She interrupted, determination in her voice, "No, no, I must... ahh, I must fight."
"Fighter, stand up and keep fighting or leave!" Zeral's voice echoed through the arena, a command demanding her to rise and continue. A soldier dared to speak up, "Come on, that is a harsh lesson. She isn't ready for this." Another chimed in, "Yes, he's right. No one can keep up with your unreal speed." Zeral retorted, "Then all of you must leave and don't waste your time here."
The soldiers felt a sting of disrespect, but Zeral clarified, "Those monsters aren't normal men to fight them with the standards of humans. You should fight with tactics and outsmart them, and you all must have stamina to do that." The commander, having listened to the exchange, agreed with Zeral and reassured his soldiers that he was training them for stamina. He acknowledged, "They are still young and ambitious, but no one can keep up with your pace, not even monsters, and clearly not the princess."
Donatella interrupted, determined to continue. "Let's keep fighting," she declared, standing with fire in her eyes. "I will hit you no matter what!" With that, she ran towards Zeral, anger boiling inside her, screaming, "I will get you!" as he kept effortlessly dodging her attacks.
Donatella struggled to stand, her body bruised and fatigued from the intense training session. The soldiers, and trainers alike, watched with a mix of concern and fear. The air in the arena was heavy with a tense anticipation as she fought to regain her composure.
Despite her physical exhaustion, the fire in her eyes burned brighter than ever. She refused to yield, a determination that resonated with some and perplexed others. The soldiers whispered among themselves, questioning the intensity of the training and the unconventional methods employed by Zeral.
In the midst of this, Zeral observed her with a stern expression, a blend of expectation and scrutiny. He understood the importance of pushing her to the limit, preparing her for the harsh reality she might face. Yet, there was an undeniable sense of respect for her unwavering spirit.
Donatella, with sheer willpower, steadied herself. Her trembling hands tightened around the hilt of her sword, and she took a deep breath, ready to face Zeral once more. The arena, a theater of determination and resilience, awaited the next chapter of this unusual training session.
Tthrough the arena that her eyes struggled to keep up. The soldiers continued to watch in a mix of amazement and concern, wondering how much more the princess could endure.
Zeral's voice echoed in the arena, a reminder of the fine line between determination and self-harm. "Princess, there's no shame in acknowledging your limits. Training is about improvement, not recklessness."
Ignoring his words, Donatella pressed on, driven by a fierce resolve. She swung her sword with every ounce of strength left in her, determined to land a hit on the elusive Zeral. The air crackled with tension as the pursuit unfolded, a dance between determination and the harsh reality of physical limitations.
The onlookers held their breath, witnessing a unique spectacle in the training ground. The clash between royalty and a transformed warrior, a battle not just of physical prowess but of willpower and the pursuit of strength against all odds.
As Donatella caught her breath, Zeral approached her with a sense of admiration in his eyes. "Okay, enough for now," he suggested, concerned for her well-being. However, the princess, fueled by a newfound determination, vehemently protested, "NOOO! I am not weak!"
In a burst of energy, she sprang forward, her sword aimed at Zeral. The impact was forceful, shattering her weapon into two halves upon contact with his face. To everyone's surprise, not a single scratch adorned Zeral's features. The broken sword, a testament to her effort, fell to the ground.
"I got you!" Donatella exclaimed triumphantly, falling to her knees in exhaustion. Repeating her achievement, she reveled in the victory of having successfully struck Zeral. Zeral, displaying a warm smile, approached her and commented, "Thank God that sword didn't hit you back."
The princess, unfazed by the broken weapon, insisted, "I don't care! I did it!" She repeated her declaration as she knelt on the arena floor. Zeral, embracing her with pride, whispered encouraging words, "You did good, my dear. Now, rest and regain your power. We'll continue training, and you'll become even stronger."
Taking her outside the arena, Zeral turned to the other soldiers. His voice felt with a challenge, "You see, a princess fought me with all her strength. What about you?" The soldiers, initially hesitant, looked at him with a mix of fear and determination.
With Donatella's inspiring feat fresh in the air, Zeral seized the moment to stoke the flames of determination in the hearts of the watching soldiers. He recounted his tale of confronting the original silver sabertooth, emphasizing that he faced the formidable beast without a hint of fear.
With Donatella's inspiring feat fresh in the air, Zeral seized the moment to stoke the flames of determination in the hearts of the watching soldiers. He recounted his tale of confronting the original silver sabertooth, emphasizing that he faced the formidable beast without a hint of fear. His story echoed through the training ground, captivating the soldiers' attention.
Motivated by Zeral's unwavering courage, the soldiers began to accept the challenge before them. As Zeral roared, "Let's do it!" a ripple of determination coursed through the ranks. The motivation spread like wildfire, encouraging all soldiers to step up and train with Zeral. The clashing of swords and the sounds of intense training became a symphony of resolve.
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Encouraging them further, Zeral roared, "Come here! You should do your best!" The training ground repeated with the sounds of determination and the clashing of swords as the soldiers rallied to face the formidable Zeral.
from the intense training. The soldiers, inspired by the princess's determination, embraced the challenge of facing Zeral. Each swing of their swords, though often futile against his incredible speed, carried the weight of newfound determination and the will to become stronger.
Zeral, with unwavering patience, continued to engage with the soldiers, offering guidance and encouragement. He emphasized the importance of resilience, strategy, and the pursuit of improvement. The atmosphere in the training ground transformed from one of doubt and fear to one of spirited determination.
As the soldiers persisted in their efforts, Zeral took a moment to check on Donatella, who was gradually recovering from the exhaustive training. He nodded approvingly at her, acknowledging the strength she had displayed in the arena.
The princess, now resting and sipping on the healing herbs, observed the soldiers with pride. Her brief but impactful battle with Zeral had ignited a flame within the training ground—a flame of resilience and the unwavering desire to surpass their own limits.
Queen Elena, concerned about Donatella's well-being, descended to the arena to check on her daughter. Finding Donatella resting, she questioned, "What did you do? What happened?" Donatella, with a triumphant smile, replied, "I defeated Adomas, Mom. I hit him!"
The queen, puzzled, sought clarification, "What do you mean?" Donatella eagerly explained, "I managed to land a hit on Zeral, Mom." The queen, now understanding, looked around and realized that the soldiers were attempting to strike Zeral in their training.
Immediately, Queen Elena ordered Donatella not to engage in such training again, worried about her daughter's safety. However, Donatella, fueled by her newfound determination, resisted, saying, "I must be strong, Mom." The queen, torn between concern and Donatella's resolve, insisted that they return to the castle. Still, Donatella persisted, expressing her determination to stay and watch.
As they observed the ongoing training, a commander approached, seeking Zeral. The arrival of the druid was imminent, and they needed to convene in the throne room for their meeting.
Zeral, satisfied with the progress and determination he witnessed in the soldiers, decided to halt the training session. He commended them for their efforts and praised their commitment to improvement. As he expressed his gratitude, he promised to continue training them, acknowledging their potential as formidable warriors.
Leaving the training ground, Zeral made his way to see King David and the druid who had finally arrived. The soldiers, fueled by a newfound sense of purpose and motivation, continued to train, eager to prove themselves under Zeral's guidance.
The grand throne room loaded with the firm steps of Zeral as he entered, expecting a crowd. To his surprise, only the king, the druid, and a few generals were present, seemingly preparing for departure. Zeral's curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't help but voice his astonishment.
Zeral: (raising an eyebrow) "Oh, is that all? You're leaving now for the meeting?"
King: (nodding) "We shouldn't keep Kevin waiting. This is an important meeting that holds the fate of humanity."
Despite the urgency in the king's words, Zeral's determination lingered. He had questions, and there was someone he wanted to confront before the meeting.
Zeral: "Let me talk to this druid before we go."
The druid, caught off guard and displaying a visible unease, nodded in agreement.
Druid: (nervously) "Yes, sir. Of course."
The atmosphere in the throne room became tense as Zeral's anger flared, demanding answers from the druid about the destruction of Batrak. The druid, trembling in fear, insisted on the secrecy of their society, claiming ignorance about the operation.
Zeral, frustrated and unconvinced, threatened the druid, promising dire consequences if he was hiding the truth. The king, sensing the escalating tension, attempted to mediate, explaining that the druid was willing to help but lacked the necessary information.
Zeral's frustration erupted like a tempest, echoing through the throne room.
Zeral: (shouting) "That's absurd! You druids always keep your secrets to each other, so I'm sure you're protecting whoever did it!"
The king, sensing the rising tension, attempted to calm Zeral, pleading for understanding.
King: "He gave me his word that he's searching for the answers..."
However, Zeral, fueled by determination and anger, cut off the king abruptly.
Zeral: (interrupting) "No! I will get the answers by myself."
As his words hung in the air, Zeral turned his piercing gaze toward the druid, delivering a dire threat that reverberated through the room.
Zeral: (threateningly) "I will kill you, and every living druid if I find out you're lying and protecting whoever did this!"
The druid, seizing an opportunity to share some information, mentioned the existence of powerful weapons like dark powder but denied knowledge of the specific operation in Batrak. Zeral, fueled by his distrust for the druids, accused them of orchestrating the destruction.
The atmosphere in the throne room thickened with tension as Zeral's anger loomed like a storm about to unleash its fury. The druid, caught off guard by Zeral's sudden aggression, took a step back, fear etched across his face. The king, alarmed and desperate to prevent an escalation, hurriedly intervened, placing himself between the seething Zeral and the quivering druid.
Druid: (nervously) "What about you?"
Zeral, consumed by anger, advanced menacingly toward the druid, his fists clenched, ready to strike. The king, recognizing the imminent danger, leaped forward, shielding the druid from Zeral's wrath.
King: (pleading) "Adomas, please stop! Listen to me, he didn't mean it."
The king grabbed Zeral's hand, trying to implore reason, but the fire in Zeral's eyes persisted. The druid, sensing the imminent threat, retreated with fear in his eyes, attempting to convey his innocence.
Druid: (stammering) "I didn't blame you, please, but it's possible. No one knows what a transformation of the Zeralizion can do to a human..."
Despite the king's attempts to calm the situation, Zeral's rage remained unabated. The king, realizing the gravity of the accusation and the storm brewing in Zeral's eyes, ordered the druid to cease speaking.
King: (commanding) "No more words."
The silence that followed was pregnant with tension, the weight of accusation and the uncertainty of the druid's response hanging heavily in the air.
In the throne room, Zeral's abrupt halt echoed with the gravity of his words. His piercing gaze bore into the trembling druid, delivering a stern ultimatum.
Zeral: "You're only alive now thanks to the king, but this is the final time you accuse me of such a thing! I would never hurt my people, and I will find who did it and erase them from existence."
The druid, engulfed in fear, nodded frantically, acknowledging the severity of the situation. The king, recognizing the need for immediate intervention, stepped in to calm the brewing storm.
King: "I give you my word about finding the truth of Batrak. Don't worry, sooner or later, it will be revealed. Now, let's focus on our main goal, which is peace."
In the grandeur of the throne room, Zeral's commanding strides came to an abrupt halt, the echoes of his words reverberating through the regal space. His intense gaze bore into the trembling druid, delivering a stern ultimatum that seemed to hang heavy in the air.
Zeral: "You're only alive now thanks to the king, but this is the final time you accuse me of such a thing! I would never hurt my people, and I will find who did it and erase them from existence."
The druid, enveloped in an aura of fear, nodded frantically, his entire demeanor expressing the gravity of the situation. Meanwhile, the king, recognizing the need for immediate intervention, stepped forward to quell the brewing storm, his regal presence a beacon of authority.
King: "I give you my word about finding the truth of Batrak. Don't worry; sooner or later, it will be revealed. Now, let's focus on our main goal, which is peace."
In this charged atmosphere, Zeral reluctantly agreed, his simmering anger momentarily subsiding. General Erik, a stalwart figure in the room, raised a concerned eyebrow about the king's decision to attend the peace meeting, prompting Zeral to voice his own confusion.
Zeral: "What do you mean?"
General Erik: "But, my lord, this is a peace meeting with an old ally, as Adomas said."
The king's calm smile remained, and he proceeded to illuminate the sobering truth behind his decision.
King: "I'm the king. I'm sure some of Hirvan's monsters hold a grudge on me, and they may try to take me out."
Zeral, with a fiery determination, vehemently rejected this possibility, promising to protect the king at any cost.
Zeral: "No, they won't! If they lay a hand on you, I swear I will kill them all."
However, the king insisted that sacrificing his life might be the price for achieving lasting peace, a sentiment that left Zeral in a state of disbelief. General Erik and the other generals put their allegiance to protect the king at all costs.
Erik: "No way, my lord. We shall die first before you."
Gratitude colored the king's expression as he acknowledged the unwavering loyalty of his generals. The impending peace meeting took center stage in their discussions.
King: "I appreciate all of this, and let's hope this will be a peaceful meeting with Kevin. Let's finally put this war to an end."
As the king and his generals prepared to depart for the momentous meeting, Zeral's gaze remained fixated on the druid. The tension between them lingered in the air, yet the symbolic white flag of peace, held by the king, brought a palpable glimmer of hope to the regal scene.
On the path leading to the anticipated peace meeting, Zeral took the lead, a solitary figure navigating the surroundings with the stealth and vigilance of a seasoned warrior. His sharp eyes scanned the landscape, searching for any signs of potential danger that might threaten the convoy.
Meanwhile, the king, flanked by his trusted generals, seized the opportunity to share tales of his past adventures beyond the protective walls of the capital. He spoke of encounters with legendary warriors, unexplored territories, and the thrill of the unknown. There was a palpable excitement in his voice as he envisioned a future where he could embark on such ventures once again, unburdened by the specter of war.
The druid, outwardly partaking in the camaraderie, laughed with the group, his facade concealing the inner turmoil he felt. Deep down, he grappled with a sense of depression, an ominous realization that his life hung in the balance. Zeral's brooding presence and the accusatory air surrounding their earlier confrontation left the druid haunted by the fear of retribution.
As the entourage continued their journey, the stark contrast between their apparent camaraderie and the underlying tensions created an atmosphere of uncertainty, a precursor to the pivotal peace meeting that awaited them.
the end.