Somewhere deep in the lush hills of Ravenmoor, hidden far from the city noise, stood an old estate — towering, regal, quiet.
But inside, it was far from silent.
The floor was marble, polished until it reflected light like glass. Two guards stood by the entrance, unmoving. Inside, a spiral staircase curved upward like a snake. The walls were decorated with ancient weapons, blood-soaked artifacts, and paintings of war.
From the far end of the corridor, she walked in.
Tall. Elegant. A black coat hugged her body, heels clicking softly with each step. Her hair was pulled back tight, her eyes sharp. She moved like someone who was used to respect.
The large double doors opened without her touching them.
She entered.
At the center of the room, sitting in a leather armchair, was him.
He didn’t face her. Just sat, staring at the flames in the fireplace. One hand rested on the armrest, the other swirling a glass of dark wine.
"Monarch," she said, her voice low but firm.
He didn’t reply. Not yet.
She waited.
Finally, he spoke, deep voice cold like steel.
"So… it's confirmed?"
"Yes," she said. "The king of War is in Ravenmoor. Just like you predicted."
There was silence.
Then, slowly, he stood.
He turned around.
Tall. Dark-haired. His eyes were a deep red — like the embers in the fire.
He was young, but something about him felt ancient.
“Describe him,” he said softly, stepping forward. His hands went behind his back.
She hesitated. "We only have fragments. But… he's strong. Beyond expectations. Even the bounty hunters failed. Stanwell is dead. The crowd saw it. People are calling him invincible.”
The Monarch smirked. “Invincible? They said the same thing last time.”
“When the moment comes… make sure I’m there to finish it myself. If anyone deserves to end him…” His smirk widened. “It’s me.”
Later that night, at an unknown location
A hologram buzzed to life in a dark room.
The woman appeared in it.
A dozen people sat in shadows, watching her.
She said only one thing:
“Target is confirmed. The King of War is in Ravenmoor. Initiate Phase One. Full engagement protocol. No mercy. No retreat.”
Then the screen shut off.
Hands grabbed weapons.
Some smiled.
The hunt had begun.

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