Death Of A Lion
"I'm not too late to the party, am I?"
Vladimir stood there, his arms crossed over his impressive chest. His Subjects stood behind him, looking at the crowd of fighters with bloodthirsty grins. They were the only factions in the whole war who hadn't suffered in any way and were as fresh as they could be. Everyone else had been fighting and had sustained one injury or the other or at least, have lower vitality stores.
"My god, you look terrible." Vladimir frowned, looking at Solomon before turning to both of them. "But don't worry. I'm here to put you both out of your misery."
Ezra and Solomon exchanged glances before taking a few steps back, creating space for Vladimir to join the fight. A new contender had arrived and they won't be turning their back on him.
"Vladimir." Solomon snarled. "You shouldn't be here. Take Southside and leave."