KVK - K136 VS K118 - FRUSTRATION

It was a Saturday... not so ordinary.

For that night the fires of war would rise: the War of the Realms, a sacred event where two nations clash under the fiery gaze of the Lord of Light.

Our mighty R'hllor blessed the contest with his red flame: a fifteen percent increase in merits and combat pieces.

A blessing for the brave... and a curse for the weak.

In this war, killing or being killed would not be a tragedy, but a wise choice. Glory would await only those unafraid to burn.

That afternoon, Latrasil, Horny Cat, and I met for the last time.

Horny Cat, with a weary voice, announced his retirement to other lands.

The former KVK had been a void without honor: grim, discouraging, impossible to sustain against enemies who seemed like gods.

He then decided to forge his own destiny far from us.

"Well, it's your decision," Latrasil and I said, with contained sadness.

And so, as the sun fell behind the walls of our kingdom, we understood the truth:

That night there would be no allies, no reinforcements, no promises of aid.

Just the two of us... against the world.

Us, and the few vassals who still remembered why we were fighting.

After being few we decided to hide and see who would be our opponent, seeing the pairing a little fear began to manifest in me, since I remembered that there were powerful NBe members in that kingdom; where I told Latrasil to check King's Landing of kingdom k118, and among the names there was a known one, Ledogi, an infantry player who would ruin our party of merit, on the other hand there were members of NSI that we could attack alone, but we had to be fast and elusive, like good assassins, kill without being discovered or seen, because Ledogi would be there watching and stalking, despite not getting along with some kingdom companions we decided to send a crow warning them to be careful when attacking, because at any moment Ledogi could observe and start attacking ...

Gandalf, the lone warrior, the one who never fears danger, had once again ridden to war.

His foot army marched tirelessly, razing lesser castles that lacked the strength and walls to withstand his might.

Banners fell one by one, and fire lit up the night as if the gods themselves were watching from the skies.

But fate, as always, is a silent and cruel judge.

In one of his many attacks, Ledogi, cunning and vigilant, managed to locate Gandalf's coordinates.

Without hesitation, he gathered his foot army and launched it toward him like an unstoppable storm.

There was no time to block, no place to escape.

The blow was devastating.

The roar of the clash was heard across the map: more than three hundred million troops were lost in an instant.

Gandalf's infantry was annihilated, and he, wounded in pride and power, quickly retreated from the front.

He possessed sapphire, yes, and with a single move he could have swept away anyone… but he chose to disappear into the shadows before being destroyed.

That attack brought glory to the 118th kingdom, which had a massive advantage over us.

News spread like wildfire within the walls: Gandalf had fallen.

But all was not lost.

There were still opportunities, and we continued to watch the weakened castles we had marked on the map.

Night had barely begun, and the fires of war still burned.

It was then that I made a decision.

Observing the silence in Winterfell, I sent my handmaiden, my most faithful fighter, to begin the hunt.

She had seen a small castle… a lonely prey in the snow.

Exploring her castle, I tell my maid to attack him without fear of success. Obviously, you must finish him off quickly, since he's a perfect opponent for you. You need merit and experience to learn. Watching her attacks, I saw that she did well... and she hid in the glory of the merits she'd earned. Even if they're few, it's a good experience for her... but not for our kingdom, the score is still far behind.

In addition, the opponents of Kingdom 118 were like us...

A bleak and empty kingdom, filled with ruins and silence.

Only Ledogi shone among them, like a solitary torch in the darkness.

But his fire burned not for glory, but for calculation.

He didn't fight... he filled castles.

He didn't seek honor, but points.

And with each precise attack, each castle he occupied, the advantage grew.

We, Kingdom 136, held out as long as we could.

We fought with the pride of those who no longer expect aid, with the hope of those who know they will fall... but still take up the sword.

Yet the night was long, and faith was not enough.

When the last banners fell, the map turned red.

The names of our heroes—Latrasil, Horny Cat, Gandalf, and so many others—were lost in the echoes of fire and steel.

The 136th kingdom… fell.

Epilogue

At dawn, ravens circled over the remains of the field.

There were no more shouts, no more strategy, no more glory. Only smoke and silence.

The embers of R'hllor's altar still smoldered, consuming the prayers that no one would answer.

It is said that, among the ashes, some survivors swore to rebuild what was lost…

Others simply disappeared, tired of a cycle that brings only ashes.

And so, the song of the War of the Realms ended once more,

as all wars end:without victors, only ghosts.