The Last Blood Mage

King Valor, The Tyrant

In the heart of Drakonia, amidst the towering spires and imposing architecture of the royal court, the atmosphere was charged with tension and fear. At the center of this storm of unease stood King Valor, a figure of imposing stature with a muscular build that spoke of decades of warfare and conquest. His gray hair, once a symbol of wisdom and nobility, now seemed to enhance his intimidating presence, while a prominent scar across his face served as a constant reminder of his ruthlessness in battle.

The courtyard of Drakonia was abuzz with activity, though not of the kind that brought joy or celebration. Instead, the people, under the watchful eyes and cruel whips of King Valor's soldiers, were engaged in a laborious task: erecting a giant golden statue of the king himself. The murmurs of discontent and exhaustion among the crowd were barely audible over the clanking of chains and the creaking of ropes as the statue was slowly pulled into place.

"Must we bear this humiliation?" whispe