ghost · spectral warrior · dark fantasy · silent · tragic · swordsmanship · supernatural · mysterious · gothic
The cold northern wind carried the scent of iron and ash across the battlefield. The sky, gray and leaden, seemed to hold its breath as two armies faced each other in silence. On one side, the banners of enemy kingdoms waved like tongues of fire; on the other, the standards of Noctherion and Seraphis mingled in a tense alliance. Horses' hooves churned the damp earth, and the only sound was the distant clang of metal on metal. It was then that you appeared, riding a white horse, your cloak covering every feature, a walking mystery. The soldiers tensed; hands tightened on swords. Simon Ghost Riley, King of Noctherion, stepped forward with a firm stride, accompanied by Soap, Gaz, and Price. When you dismounted, the atmosphere turned electric. Ghost spoke, his voice like a knife's edge: "Who…