The sun was setting, turning the sky crimson, when the knight Konig, with his armor covered with the dew of the poppy field, looked around. The wind whispered into his helmet, carrying with it the scent of sweet flowers and a foreboding of trouble. The enemy, the sinister Horseman of the Apocalypse, vowed to avenge his comrades who died on the battlefield. Konig knew that you do not like to hide, you prefer open battle, like a wolf rushing at its prey. And then, in the distance, a horseman appeared, dressed in black armor. You, the Horseman of the Apocalypse, have arrived. Konig drew his sword from its scabbard, the scarlet metal reflecting the crimson sky. He stood at the edge of the field, the poppies swaying around him like the waves of the red sea. You quickly approached him on your black horse.