Evolution begins with an ant colony

King Leonheart's breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with effort as he struggled to breath. Blood trickled from his lips, staining the ground beneath him with blood as he knelt, his body racked with pain. Despite the agony coursing through his veins, an intense look still lingerd in his eyes, refusing to give up even in the face of defeat.

Surrounded by the triumphant sneers of the Beast Folk, King Leonheart cast his gaze upward, meeting their smug grins with a defiant glare. Though weakened and battered, he remained unbroken, his spirit unyielding even in the face of death.

King Leonheart spoke loudly, his voice rough from all the effort. Despite everything going on around him, his words sounded calm but we're commanding. "Is this how you plan to attain victory?" He said, coughing after each word, which made his body shake. "To strike down a king on his knees, defenseless and alone?"

The Beast Folk's grins widened at his words, their confidence bolstered by his weakened state. They looked at each other with excitement, enjoying the sight of their enemy on his knees.

With a thud, Thalagor landed on the ground, his presence commanding attention as he addressed the other Beast Folk. "Enough," he declared, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a blade. "One of you, fetch a Dryad. We've done what we came for." Experience more on My Virtual Library Empire

The Beast Folk nodded in compliance, dispersing into the shadows with a sense of urgency, leaving King Leonheart and Thalagor alone in the aftermath of their brutal encounter.

As the last of the assailants disappeared into the night, King Leonheart summoned the strength to speak, his voice strained but resolute. "Why?" he questioned, his gaze locked on Thalagor with a mixture of bewilderment and defiance. "Why attack me? What do you hope to achieve?"

Thalagor's demeanor softened, a faint smile playing on his lips as he spoke, his voice carrying a touch of sorrow and understanding. "You see, King Leonheart, I had an elder brother, who was once a proud warrior," he began, his tone gentle yet tinged with sadness. "But when your knights arrived, they dealt him a fatal blow.

Though he was later resurrected by our liege, he couldn't bear the shame of defeat."

His eyes clouded with memories of the past, Thalagor continued, his voice wavering slightly. "Despite our attempts to console him, he couldn't shake the feeling of dishonor. He chose to end his own life, seeking peace in death where he couldn't find it in life. And so, we let him rest, for his spirit had suffered enough."

A bitter laugh escaped Thalagor's lips, echoing in the quiet night air. "Foolish, isn't it?" he remarked, a hint of irony in his tone. "To sacrifice oneself for the sake of pride and honor, as if they were sustenance for the soul. But I understand his pain, his struggle to bear the weight of disgrace."

Thalagor's expression hardened, his gaze turning steely as he leveled a pointed look at King Leonheart. "Yet, while I can forgive my brother's actions, I cannot forgive those who drove him to such despair," he said, his voice resonating with intensity. "You and your knights may have thought little of the lives you took that day, but to us, they were more than mere casualties.

They were our kin, our comrades, and their dishonor weighs heavily on our hearts."

As the gravity of his words settled in the air, Thalagor's gaze met King Leonheart's, a silent challenge lingering between them.

Leonheart's muscles strained as he pushed himself upright, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "That still doesn't tell me what you're planning," he managed to grit out, his voice laced with dead serious intensity despite his weakened state.

Thalagor's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with a hint of malice. "Oh, it's quite simple, really," he replied, his tone almost cheerful. "I plan to wipe you and your kingdom off this continent. It's a small price to pay for the life of my sweet brother."

The king's brow furrowed, his expression hardening as he fixed Thalagor with a steely gaze. "And how do you plan to accomplish that?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "If you dare to set foot in my kingdom, my soldiers will unite and put an end to you."

Thalagor's laughter rang out, echoing in the night air like a sinister melody. "Oh, I have no intention of facing your soldiers alone," he said, his grin widening. "Nor do I need an army."

Leonheart's coughs interrupted the conversation briefly, but he pressed on, his gaze unwavering. "Then how do you plan to achieve your goal?" he demanded, his voice hoarse but firm.

Thalagor's smile grew even wider, his eyes alight with anticipation. "By unleashing the wrath of my liege upon you," he said, his voice dripping with snister intent. "And trust me, King Leonheart, when I say that his fury knows no bounds."

Meanwhile, as Thalager's grip tightened around her throat, Hestria's thoughts spiraled into a whirlwind of regret and despair. "I've failed as a knight," she whispered inwardly, her voice drowned out by the pounding of her heart. "I failed to complete my mission, I led invaders into my nation, I couldn't protect my people... and my king discarded me.

I've been labeled as a traitor, and I have failed in my duties... I have failed you, Sir Zanuris."

Memories flashed before her eyes like shards of broken glass, cutting deep into her consciousness. She saw herself as a young girl, with blond hair and piercing purple eyes, in ragged clothes, surviving in the squalor of the slums. And then, a figure emerged from the shadows—a knight with silver hair and eyes as purple as her own.

As the knight crouched down before her, Hestria's frown deepened, her expression a mixture of fear and confusion. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice tinged with apprehension as she wrapped her arms protectively around herself.

The knight's voice was soft, almost melodic, as he spoke. "Nothing much," he replied gently, his eyes filled with warmth. "What do you think about coming home with me and becoming a magic knight?"