The Monster King's Legacy

Across the lands, every race had begun preparing for the coming war.

In the human kingdom of Valtheris, the elite armies of the humans assembled, while the rest rallied in different areas, and stockpiles of food and supplies grew with each passing day.

In the elven forests, they appeared more ready than any race, as though they had been preparing for such an event before it even happened.

The dwarves, still reeling from the previous attacks, reinforced their coasts and reinforced their weapons to counter the undead hordes.

…

As the days passed, Lance stood atop the walls of the monster capital, surveying the bustling city below. The preparations were nearing completion, and the army he had built was unlike anything the world had seen before.

Aelyndra joined him, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "Do you think we're ready?" she asked softly, her tone and expression showing no concern.

Lance's laughed lightly at her question, knowing it was rhetorical if nothing else. "We'll have to be. If this truly is the ancient kingdom, then they've planned for centuries after all, unless their lord was sealed for a long time and only just awoken, then maybe our chances will be boundless."

Aelyndra smiled faintly. "You still have time for joke."

'Jokes? She hasn't seen a lot of villain plots, must be why.' Lance thought to himself, laughing internally.

…

Less than two weeks later, and the dwarven territory of Ironforge Citadel became a hub of activity as armies from all races converged on its rocky, fortified grounds.

The gathering armies watched the monsters arrive in silence, their expressions ranging from cautious curiosity to open disdain.

The monsters were a surprising sight, after all, not a lot had seen the monster army, if any at all. Even then, the most surprising were the demons, everyone staring at them as though at the enemy.

"They look organized, but they're still beasts."

"Can they even be trusted not to turn on us?"

"Monsters fighting alongside us… the world has truly gone mad."

Murmurs went around.

Lance ignored the murmurs, his gaze fixed ahead as he led his army to their designated area. As for the soldiers themselves, they had been told to expect it and pay it no mind, and for the time being, they followed those orders, adhering to them strictly.

…

Inside the massive war tent erected at the center of the camp, the leaders of the alliance gathered. Lance entered alongside Aelyndra and Lia, his calm demeanor unshaken despite the suspicious glances directed his way.

Throrin stood at the head of the table, his gruff voice commanding attention. "We've gathered here because we face a threat that cares not for race or territory. The undead have already struck twice, and we must prepare for the worst."

King Aldric, represented by Commander Leona Veylan, nodded. "The enemy is not to be underestimated. We must act as one if we're to survive."

As the discussion continued, human lords and equally from the sides of the elves and dwarves occasionally glanced at Lance, their whispers barely audible. This time, for the first time if not, it wasn't ridicule but a sort of admiration as he was identified as the one who won a spar against the Godking. Eventually, that had become a firm point of validation for those speaking of him now.

Following that, strategies were made and preparations within themselves were discussed for the coming conflict.

As the leaders finalized their strategies, the combined armies continued setting up camp around the dwarven fortress, new tents erected, supply lines established, and sentries posted at every possible point.

As night fell over the camp, the soldiers discussed lightheartedly, not minding the incoming war. If one had not experienced something himself, how was he supposed to feel the burden from it? Fires burned, casting flickering shadows over the soldiers who sat before them in anticipation of what was to come, their hopes high though their discussions.

The very next evening however, their thoughts would be reorganized.

…

The tension in the air was palpable as the allied armies stood at attention near the shoreline, their eyes fixed on the horizon. The crashing waves of the Iron Sea as the dwarves knew it served as a haunting prelude to the chaos that was about to unfold.

A sudden, deafening roar echoed across the skies, causing every head to turn upward. With wide gazes, many watched as massive shadows swept across the battlefield as the wyvern king and his entourage descended, their mighty forms and wings that stretched farther than any flying creature most had seen beating against the wind.

The wyvern king landed gracefully beside Lance, his scales shimmering with almost glow as it appeared like coal and rock. "You called for our aid, Lance," the wyvern king rumbled. "We answered."

Lance bowed his head slightly in respect. "Your presence is appreciated, your majesty. This enemy is unlike anything we've faced. Your strength will be invaluable."

The wyverns settled near the monster kingdom's forces, their sharp eyes scanning the horizon. Their alliance with Lance was a symbol of the monster kingdom's power, and their arrival bolstered the morale of the allied armies more so than it caused fear.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting an eerie golden glow over the waters, the horizon darkened unnaturally, an unnatural fog forming over the waters in the distance. Shapes emerged from the mist, their silhouettes massive and foreboding.

Dozens of flying warships came into view, their hulking forms cutting through the skies. The faint hum from them carried across the water, reaching those on land with a shiver. The sight was unlike anything the coalition forces had imagined, an army of ships floating effortlessly, defying the laws of nature. Unlike what they had heard of a single ship, this was a fleet of them.

"By the gods," Throrin muttered, his voice filled with awe and dread. If one had released hundreds of undead, what would happen in the situation they were in?