The flickering and dancing of the cursed flames cast an ominous glow over the pale visage of the Mad King. Ashnard stands on the parapets of his castle, his eyes filled with sinister glee, observing as his armies swarm the countryside below, resembling a horde of locusts. The feeble inhabitants scatter and flee in the face of their advance, their futile struggles providing amusement to his twisted mind.

He tightens his grip on the hilt of Gurgurant, the cursed blade pulsating with a thirst for blood that matches his own. The promised time is approaching; the initial signs of chaos required to awaken the dormant god have already started to emerge. The world of fools and weaklings will no longer endure; instead, all shall face the purifying flames of change and be consumed.

Ashnard's cracked lips release a harsh and grating laugh as he raises Gurgurant high. The clouds appear to tremble as they open up, allowing a ray of bloody light to illuminate his face, which is turned upwards.

"Now, Tellius, the end begins! Today marks the end of an era characterized by peace and abundance, as we enter a new era defined by enduring strength and power."

His proclamation reverberates through the silent and desolate streets, serving as a foreboding warning to those who would dare challenge the emergence of his new regime. The era of chaos under the rule of the Mad King is upon us; let the devastation begin!