289 A Night Drenched In Blood

The silver glow of the moon bathed the beast folk tribe in a soft silvary light, casting shadows that streched across King Leonheart's golden lion armor. He stood tall, his massive sword gleaming in the moonlight as he held it at the ready. His stance was simple yet imposing, with the sword held before him, gripped tightly in both hands. Every line of his body gave off power, as if daring any who dared to approach to face their inevitable demise. His eyes, narrowed in focus benith his helmet, looking at the beast folk ahead, ready for any sign of movement or threat.

King Leonheart's voice cut through the tense air, filled with sarcasm as he addressed the beast folk. "What's with the hold-up?" he demanded, his tone dripping with disdain. "I thought you lot wanted to throw me a welcome party," he added, benith his helmet he frowned as he gazed intensly at them.