In the heart of the city, the citizens of Edoria went about their evening, unaware of the looming threat just beyond their borders. The king of the neighboring land, Harold Hitchman, was preparing to fulfill his long-held ambition of conquest. His armies were assembling under the cover of dusk, their armor glinting ominously in the fading light.
King Harold stood before his generals, his eyes gleaming with determination and ambition. "The time has come to expand our borders," he declared, his voice echoing through the hall. The room was filled with the sound of approval, save for one man who stood silently at the back, his eyes cold and calculating—Jorj Josefsin, Harold's top general.
Jorj Josefsin examined the detailed maps of Edoria, his mind racing with strategies. "We strike at dawn," he announced, his voice smooth and confident. His reputation as an evil man was well-earned, and his cunning tactics had won many battles for Harold. "Their defenses will be weakest when the sun rises," he added, a sinister smile playing on his lips.
Led by Jorj Josefsin, the army advanced towards Edoria, their numbers vast and their resolve unyielding. "Keep the formation tight," Jorj commanded, his eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of movement. The anticipation of battle charged the air, and each soldier steeled themselves for what lay ahead.
Caught off guard, the defenders of Edoria struggled to mount a defense against the onslaught. Jorj led the charge with ruthless efficiency, his every move calculated to sow fear and confusion. "Push forward, show no mercy!" he shouted, his voice rising above the din of battle.
King Harold rode through the devastated streets, surveying the results of his ambition. "Edoria is ours," he proclaimed, though the victory felt hollow amidst the destruction. Jorj Josefsin, standing at his side, wore a satisfied expression, his dark eyes reflecting the smoldering remnants of what was once a proud city. The conquest was complete, but the cost weighed heavily on both victor and vanquished alike.
