Evolution begins with an ant colony

The silver glow of the moon bathed the beast folk tribe in a soft silvary light, casting shadows that streched across King Leonheart's golden lion armor. He stood tall, his massive sword gleaming in the moonlight as he held it at the ready. His stance was simple yet imposing, with the sword held before him, gripped tightly in both hands.

Every line of his body gave off power, as if daring any who dared to approach to face their inevitable demise. His eyes, narrowed in focus benith his helmet, looking at the beast folk ahead, ready for any sign of movement or threat.

King Leonheart's voice cut through the tense air, filled with sarcasm as he addressed the beast folk. "What's with the hold-up?" he demanded, his tone dripping with disdain. "I thought you lot wanted to throw me a welcome party," he added, benith his helmet he frowned as he gazed intensly at them.

Thalagor's voice carried a hint of sarcasm as he spoke, his eyes still fixed on King Leonheart's gleaming armor. "My apologies, Your Majesty," he began, his tone filled with insincerity. "I was momentarily lost admiring your armor. It's quite remarkable, made entirely of your densely condensed mana, giving it that impressive golden hue." He nodded. "Truly a sight to behold."

Thalagor's smirk widened as he added, his body language giving off his confidence. "But, Your Majesty," his voice dripping with sarcasm, "just how much can it withstand?"

King Leonheart's eyes narrowed, his grip on his sword tightening as he responded with a challenge. "Why don't you come over here and find out?"

Thalagor chuckled, his demeanor brimming with arrogance. "I appreciate the invitation," he taunted, "but I prefer to watch from the sidelines, perched on a rooftop. It's far more enjoyable to witness your struggles from a higher vantage point, just before you inevitably give up."

Thalagor's grin widened, his fangs glistening in the moonlight as he said, "With that out of the way," his voice carrying a hint of excitement, he then leaped into the air.

Effortlessly landing on the rooftop of the inn, then he added, "let the show begin!" The words dripped with excitement as he settled into a comfortable position, showcasing his confidence as he prepared to watch the unfolding show below. Experience more tales on My Virtual Library Empire

Understanding that they was his signal, the Beast Folk lunged at King Leonheart, their claws extended like lethal weapons ready to tear trough flesh, as they closed in king Leonheart sidestepped the first attacker, narrowly avoiding a deep gash across his abdomen.

Reacting quickly, he countered with a powerful swing of his golden sword, aiming for the Beast Folk's neck. The blade sliced through the air with a soft whistle, and upon contact, it cleaved through the creature's flesh, causing a gurgling cry as blood sprayed from the severed artery.

Meanwhile, another Beast Folk approached from the side, aiming a vicious kick at King Leonheart's knee, wanting to disable him. However, the king anticipated the attack and brought his armored forearm down in a swift block, deflecting the blow and staggering his opponent backward.

As the Beast Folk's kick met King Leonheart's armored forearm, the force of the impact sent shockwaves through his arm, sending a jolt of pain up to his shoulder. Despite the numbing sensation, the king stood firm, his muscles tensed, ready to counter.

With a swift pivot, King Leonheart redirected his momentum, bringing his golden sword around in a sweeping arc aimed at the attacker's abdomen. The blade glinted in the moonlight as it descended, slicing through fur and flesh.

The Beast Folk, caught off guard by the king's swift retaliation, attempted to dodge, but it was too late. The blade made contact with its torso, carving a deep gash that spurted blood. A pained howl echoed through the night as the creature stumbled backward, clutching its wound.

As the wounded Beast Folk staggered back, its claws scraped against the cobblestone ground, leaving trails of blood in its wake. King Leonheart, seizing the opportunity, pressed forward.

With a fierce roar, he lunged toward the injured creature, his golden armor gleaming in the moonlight as he closed the distance. Gripping his sword firmly, he delivered a series of swift strikes, each blow aimed at vulnerable spots on the Beast Folk's body.

The air was filled with the sound of metal slashing trough flesh as the king's sword found its mark again and again. With each strike, the Beast Folk's defenses weakened, its strength waning under the endless slashes. Blood sprayed from fresh wounds, painting the ground in splatter patterns.

Despite its desperate attempts to fight back, the beast folk was no match for King Leonheart. With a final, decisive blow, the king delivered a powerful thrust, driving his sword deep into the Beast Folk's chest.

A guttural cry pierced the night as the creature collapsed to the ground, blood pooling around its motionless body. King Leonheart stood over the beast folk, his chest heaving with exertion, his golden sword stained with the blood of his fallen foe.

As the commotion of battle echoed through the streets, other Beast Folk closed in on King Leonheart, their eyes gleaming with dead serious intensity. Sensing the threat, the king braced himself for the incoming attacks, his muscles tensed with anticipation.

One of the Beast Folk lunged forward, its claws slashing through the air. With lightning-fast reflexes, King Leonheart parried the attack, deflecting the blow with his sword. But before he could fully recover, another assailant lunched forward, aiming a ferocious bite at his exposed shoulder.

With a grunt of pain, King Leonheart stumbled backward, feeling the sharp teeth sink into his flesh. Blood welled from the wound, staining his golden armor as he fought to regain his footing. Yet even as he struggled to defend himself, more Beast Folk converged upon him, attacking him all together.

A flurry of claws and teeth rained down upon him, each strike finding its mark. Despite his best efforts to fend off their attacks, King Leonheart found himself outnumbered and overwhelmed. With every passing moment, his strength waned, his movements growing sluggish against the relentless barrage of attacks, he blood Dan down his armor, dripping on the cold cobblestone floor.

In a desperate bid to turn the tide, King Leonheart summoned every ounce of his remaining strength, letting out a massive roar yet again as he charged foward. But the Beast Folk pressed on, their savage attacks showing no signs of stoping. As the battle raged on, the outcome remained uncertain, hanging in the balance like a thread on the brink of snapping.