Faraway Island…
The sun cast its golden rays across the mysterious island, its shores lined with jagged rocks and dense forests.
This island, hidden far from the eyes of the Nine Realms, was home to a formidable force of women. Thousands of warriors—each wielding weapons like bows, staffs, and swords—were undergoing rigorous training under the watchful eyes of 13 elderly women, each bearing the aura of seasoned veterans.
The sound of weapons clashing and war cries echoed through the air as women sparred against one another. Some trained in formations, while others practiced martial spells that made the ground tremble.
Overseeing it all was Ria Semen, the fierce and determined leader of this hidden army. Her piercing green eyes scanned the training grounds, her long braid swaying as she strode purposefully toward the most sacred spot on the island—a small temple at its heart.
Inside the temple sat the Old Ancestor, a woman whose hair was as white as snow, her frail frame wrapped in a simple robe. Though her body appeared weak, her eyes carried the sharpness of a hawk, and her presence exuded authority. She meditated on a dais surrounded by glowing runes that pulsed softly with ancient power.
Ria knelt before the Old Ancestor, her voice laced with urgency. “Ancestor, we must act now. Madam Clark’s forces are crumbling under the might of the Nine Realms Army. If we don’t intervene, the sworn wizards will fall, and the balance of power will shift forever.”
The Old Ancestor opened her eyes, their calmness unshaken by Ria’s plea. “Ria, you know our rule. We do not act until Kent arrives. His word is the only one I trust now.”
“But Ancestor,” Ria argued, her tone rising slightly, “if we wait, there may not be a sworn wizard army left to save. Madam Clark has given everything to stand against Jason Mama. Are we to abandon her while we sit here training?”
The Old Ancestor’s voice was firm. “Patience is the greatest virtue of war, child. Without trust, any intervention we make is futile. We do not sacrifice lives on a whim.”
Ria clenched her fists, her frustration evident. “Do you not trust Madam Clark? Hasn’t she proven her loyalty to our cause?”
The Old Ancestor’s gaze softened, but her tone remained resolute. “This is not about loyalty. It is about destiny. Only Kent carries the burden of our trust. When he calls for us, we will move—not a moment sooner.”
Ria bit her lip, her emotions warring within her. She bowed her head and left the temple, her heart heavy with despair. Outside, she watched the warriors train with unyielding discipline, their chants echoing through the air. Her mind burned with doubt—how could they stand by and do nothing?
—
6th Realm, Mountain Forest…
Deep within the lush, untamed mountain forest of the 6th Realm, a secret army gathered strength. These were not ordinary warriors but prisoners who had been freed by Kent Clark from the 7th Realm’s infamous prison.
Their gratitude toward Kent had turned into unwavering loyalty, and under the command of the formidable Jamba Zi, they had spent months training for war.
Tang Zi, Jamba Zi’s son, sprinted through the camp, his face tense. He approached his father, who stood overseeing the training of new recruits. Jamba Zi, a mountain of a man with a scar running down his cheek, exuded a commanding presence.
“Father,” Tang Zi called, bowing slightly before continuing. “The sworn wizards are in grave danger. Madam Clark’s forces are dwindling, and the Nine Realms Army is closing in. We must act now.”
Jamba Zi turned to his son, his expression unreadable. “What do you suggest, Tang Zi?”
“We have gathered enough strength,” Tang Zi said, his voice desperate. “With our warriors and the magical weapons we’ve acquired, we can tip the scales in Madam Clark’s favor.”
Jamba Zi’s gaze hardened. “And risk the lives of our people without a command from Kent? Do you take me for a fool?”
“But father—”
“No, Tang Zi,” Jamba Zi interrupted, his voice like thunder. “We owe our freedom to Kent, and I will not act without his word. His command is the only one I recognize in this war.”
Tang Zi’s shoulders slumped, his frustration evident. “What if Kent doesn’t return in time? Will we just sit here and watch Madam Clark’s army fall?”
Jamba Zi stepped closer, his towering figure casting a shadow over his son. “We are warriors, not saviors. If Kent commands, we will move mountains for him. Until then, we prepare.”
Tang Zi sighed and bowed his head. “As you wish, Father.”
As Tang Zi walked away, he glanced at the soldiers training tirelessly. Despite their growing strength, doubt lingered in his heart. What if Kent’s command never came?
–
Abandoned Island…
On an island surrounded by turbulent seas, the Dragon Ancestor, a massive, ancient being with scales as black as night and eyes that gleamed with wisdom, sat on a throne carved from volcanic rock. Before him knelt a dragon ambassador, its wings folded respectfully.
“Ancestor,” the ambassador began, its voice deep and reverent, “I bring news from the outside world. The war between Madam Clark’s sworn wizards and the Nine Realms Army rages on. Madam Clark is on the brink of defeat.”
The Dragon Ancestor’s two daughters, their lithe dragon forms coiled beside the throne, exchanged worried glances. One of them, her silver scales shimmering in the dim light, spoke up. “Father, we cannot let mother-in-law’s army fall. She has fought valiantly. We must help her.”
Her sister, a fiery-red dragon with eyes like molten gold, added, “Our family has a duty to support Madam Clark. If she falls, the balance of power will shift, and the Nine Realms Association will grow unstoppable.”
The Dragon Ancestor raised a claw, silencing them. “Enough. I will not act without Kent’s command token. Only his word will move the dragons into this war.”
The silver-scaled daughter protested, her voice tinged with desperation. “But Father—”
“No,” the Dragon Ancestor growled, his tone final. “The dragons will not risk themselves without certainty. Kent is the only one I trust to lead us into battle. Until he summons us, we wait.”
The ambassador bowed his head and stepped back. The two daughters exchanged frustrated looks but said nothing further. The weight of their ancestor’s decision hung heavy in the air.
