Dara and Myth fueled by a hatred as old as time, clashed in a whirlwind of steel and fury. The clang of their swords echoed across the war ground, a symphony of violence that drowned out the screams of the dying.
And as they were going after each other, their paths were not clear. Other warriors, caught in the crossfire, attempted to intervene, but Dara and Myth were masters of their craft, their movements fluid and deadly. They scattered their opponents with ease, their skills honed by years of relentless training.
Finally, they met, their swords meeting in a clash that sent sparks flying. Dara, lightning fast, aimed a blow at Myth's leg, but the seasoned warrior parried the attack. Dara, undeterred, launched a swift kick towards Myth's head, but Myth blocked it with his sword.
Dara, in a blur of motion, delivered another kick, this time targeting Myth's stomach. The force of the blow sent Myth crashing to the ground, his breath knocked out of him. Myth, however, was not finished. He sprang to his feet, his eyes burning with a fierce rage. He aimed a devastating kick at Dara's head, but Dara, with a desperate twist of his body, dodged the attack, the force of the blow cracking the stone beneath his feet.
Myth, relentless in his pursuit, pressed his attack. He landed a powerful punch on Dara's face, followed by another that shattered Dara's lip, drawing blood. Myth, his eyes gleaming with a thirst for vengeance, lunged forward, his sword aimed at Dara's heart. But Dara, his spirit unbroken, met Myth's attack head-on, delivering a powerful headbutt that sent Myth sprawling to the floor, his sword clattering to the ground.
As Myth sword have fallen away from his hand Dara saw nothing but his chance. Myth, disarmed and vulnerable, lay sprawled on the ground. He lunged forward, his sword aimed at Myth's heart, but Myth, quick as a viper, rolled out of the way, then kicking Dara's sword out of his hand as well.
The battle had shifted. It was now a brutal, hand-to-hand struggle, a test of raw strength and cunning. Dara, seizing the moment, unleashed a swift kick that connected with Myth's jaw. Myth, reeling from the blow, attempted to retaliate with a punch, but Dara caught his wrist, his grip like a vice. He twisted, aiming to break Myth's arm, but Myth, with a desperate twist of his body, freed himself from Dara's grasp.
Dara, undeterred, launched another attack, this time a powerful kick that sent Myth tumbling backwards, and crashing to the ground. Dara, his eyes burning with fury, moved in for the kill, his hand reaching for Myth's wrist, ready to break it.
But just as Dara was about to deliver the final blow, another person dived in. One of Myth's men, a hulking brute with a wild gleam in his eyes, charged towards Dara, his fists clenched. Dara, forced to defend himself, met the man's attack with a devastating punch to the stomach, sending the man reeling backwards.
But in that moment of distraction, Myth managed to get back on his feet, his eyes burning with a cold rage. He lunged at Dara, his fists raining down on him. Dara, caught off guard, struggled to defend himself, his body taking the full force of Myth's blows. He managed to grab Myth's wrist again, but Myth, with a desperate grunt, threw Dara off balance, sending him crashing to the ground that he almost fell down from the fence but Dara managed to climb back.
And immediately Myth was attempting to kick him on the face, he dodged the attack and gave Myth a final force blow that sent him falling off the wall and clashing to the ground.
As Dara breaths heavily looking at him, looking for a way to jump down too in other to get this fight completed, A magnificent dragon, its scales shimmering like a thousand suns, descended from the sky, its presence filling the battlefield with awe and terror. Dara's eyes widening in amazement, looked up at the majestic creature, momentarily forgetting his fight with Myth. It was of course Micah who had returned with his dragon, the war is theirs to win already.
And in that moment of distraction, Myth vanished. He used the opportunity to run away knowing he can't stand Dara one on one and he can't also be able to win this war anymore.
Just then, the wall crumbled under the dragon's powerful breath and searing flames, allowing more of Dara's army to surge into the castle. The chaos of battle intensified, but Dara's forces held the upper hand.
"Dara! Are you alright?" Obed shouted, spotting Dara sitting exhausted on the wall. Dara looked down and nodded.
"Yeah, but you shouldn't worry about me. Just go ahead; I’m right behind you!" Dara replied, still catching his breath. He had been through a grueling confrontation with Myth, who had fled like a coward when the fight turned dire.
After taking a deep breath and sitting in silence for a few moments, Dara finally stood up, jumped down from the wall, picked up his sword, and charged inside with his men. They had the advantage now, as the enemy was already surrounded by Dara's forces, bolstered by the presence of the dragon.
Meanwhile, Micah flew to a spot where he had stashed his dragon. He retrieved his sword and joined the fray, realizing that the dragon was no longer necessary. With the wall breached, using the dragon would only lead to unnecessary casualties and destruction of the Kingdom which wouldn't be really a good thing.
Dara, determined and focused, was able to regain some of his strength after sitting quiet for a while, he then jumper down from the wall and picked up his sword.
Breathing heavily he gazed at the sword for a while before holding it tight and made his way directly to the throne room—the place where he would confront Myth and his father once more.
He knew they would be there waiting for him and he can't wait to see them one on one, it's going be really an intriguing time.