A heavy silence fell over the battlefield. Tension hung thick in the air.
The Nature Tribe had made its stance clear - they would side with neither fire nor ice.
But Arson and Glacius weren't finished.
Sylvia stood tall, her green skin glowing faintly beneath the dimming sky, vines coiled protectively around her wrists. Though surrounded by elemental forces far stronger than her own, she did not waver.
Arson's flames crackled dangerously, frustration radiating from him in waves of heat.
Glacius' cold smile never faltered, his icy confidence unwavering.
And then -
The ground shook.
Not from fire. Not from ice.
But from something far older.
More ancient than either element.
A massive dust storm rolled in from the horizon, golden and vast, swallowing the battlefield beneath a rising sea of sand.
The air grew dry.
The scents of scorched earth and frozen winds vanished, replaced by something heavier - the timeless, unrelenting weight of desert.
The Sand Tribe had come.
From the storm emerged a tall, weathered figure. His amber eyes glinted like shifting dunes, his skin rough.
This was Lord Dune, the revered leader of the Sand Tribe. A man so connected to the earth that even time seemed to hesitate in his presence.
Behind him stood warriors clad in loose desert robes, weapons carved from ancient stone, their forms steady as the dunes themselves. Their presence was not aggressive - it was a warning.
Dune's voice rumbled through the dust, deep and steady as the desert itself.
"This battle ends now."
Arson turned, sneering.
"And what does the Sand Tribe want with this fight?" His fists burned brighter, molten eyes blazing. "This isn't your concern, old man."
Dune's gaze remained calm, unshaken.
"The Sand Tribe watches over all lands, not just our deserts. We have seen the destruction your war brings. We will not allow you to claim this land for your greed."
Sylvia let out a slow breath. The Sand Tribe had always remained neutral, watching from afar. For them to take a stand now... meant this conflict had reached a dangerous threshold.
Glacius' cold expression cracked, just slightly.
"You believe you can stand against both fire and ice?"
Dune raised his hand.
The earth responded.
The ground shifted.
Great dunes of sand surged from beneath, swallowing frozen ground, smothering lingering embers. The land itself bowed to Dune's will, moving like a living creature beneath his feet.
"You mistake our patience for weakness," Dune said. "You will not burn this land. You will not freeze it. Leave."
Arson clenched his fists, heat radiating in furious waves - but even he wasn't foolish enough to ignore the shifting power beneath his feet.
The Sand Tribe was immovable. Rarely did they fight, but when they did, their dominion over earth made them a force few could defy. Not fire. Not ice.
Glacius exhaled, the frost thinning in the air.
"Tch. Another time, then."
Arson spat into the dust, his flames receding as he turned away.
"This isn't over."
And just like that, both the Magma Tribe and the Ice Tribe retreated, their ambitions momentarily stalled beneath a rising tide of sand.
As the battlefield fell quiet, Sylvia turned to Dune, her gaze searching his weathered face.
"Why did you come?"
Dune offered a small, knowing smile.
"Because if we do not act now... there may be no land left to save."