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War of the Sidorian Empire: Fall of the Dragon

RutiX_Z_R
The Sidorian Kingdom, once a proud and revered dominion within the Padovian continent, became a ruthless empire under the iron rule of King Zerudic Clemen del Sidorian IV—a power-hungry monarch who carved his name into the bones of history, swallowing the entire continent whole. After a decade of unrelenting conquest, he crowned himself Emperor Zerudic Clemen del Sidorian I, founding what would become the most feared regime the continent had ever known. A hundred years have passed since that war. The Sidorian Empire now stretches beyond the seas, consuming foreign lands beneath the shadow of its banners. Whispers of their coming are enough to send lesser kingdoms into frantic alliances, praying to be spared the wrath of Sidoria's unstoppable legions. At the heart of their fearsome military was the Dragonian Army—a brutal, elite force led by none other than Alkaris Budenmore, the living dragon and Grand Duke of the Budenmore Duchy, a land famed for its draconic legacy and unmatched warriors. But beneath the weight of empire, cracks begin to form. As whispers of betrayal stir in the halls of power. And when a blade finds its mark where loyalty once stood… Even dragons can fall.... ††‡‡‡★★††‡‡‡★★††‡‡‡★★††‡‡‡★★ After ten years of peace, a prophecy was. received bythe House of Angelo, the Grand Duchy whose veins ran with angelic blood. "The Sword of Sidoria shall fall before standing against it. It shall surely stand against it..." Only half of the prophecy was shared with the public—to prevent panic. However, it didn’t work. Silent fear still crept into the hearts of the people, and whispers of weakness began to slowly spread. But the other half— "...Alkaris Budenmore shall awaken as the dragon and stand against Sidoria..." —was kept hidden, known only to three: the Emperor, the heir of House Angelo, and the Pope. The prophecy was clear… or maybe not. Still, the message was enough to make them act. Alkaris Budenmore—the last of the dragon bloodline—had to be controlled. A vote was cast in secret. It was agreed: “Before the dragon awakes, he shall be the sword of the Empire… then he shall die.” And so, a silent decision was made. If the prophecy was true—he must die. If it was false—he must still die. The next morning, fourteen-year-old Alkaris Budenmore was summoned to inherit the title of Grand Duke—replacing his father who died mysteriously just two months prior. As tradition demanded, he swore loyalty to the throne, binding his soul to the crown that would one day devour him. This was not the beginning of his rise. This was the beginning of his fall.
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