Next we are going to tell you a story about "Waka Spiritblade ", a new card much more extensive story about this great Splinterlands.

Waka Spiritblade, hailing from the rare and mystical tribe of the Malphurs, was a figure of legend, his name synonymous with power, skill, and an almost mythical presence. The Malphurs were a people bound to ancient rituals, their bodies covered in intricate tattoos that symbolized their connection to the elemental forces of the world. These markings, along with the bones of creatures they hunted in the swamps and forests as children, adorned their bodies. But the greatest among them, those who achieved true mastery of their magical heritage, earned the rare honor of wearing the skull of an ancestor—a symbol that amplified their already considerable power. Waka, one of the most formidable Malphurs to ever live, carried such a skull, and with it, he possessed abilities that set him apart from even the most accomplished summoners.

Known throughout Praetoria as a master of his craft, Waka Spiritblade dominated the battle arenas. His summoning prowess was unmatched, and his battles became events of spectacle and awe. Tens of thousands would gather to witness him in action, mesmerized by his ability not just to win, but to entertain. Waka’s showmanship was legendary—he would extend battles, letting his enemies believe they had the upper hand, only to strike back with overwhelming force at the last moment, turning sure defeat into a dazzling victory. His skill was so profound that he could silence an entire crowd, not with fear or violence, but with sheer artistry in combat.

Yet despite his fame and mastery, Waka was beloved not just for his talents, but for his compassion. After each victory, he would walk among the people, distributing his winnings to those in need, ensuring the poor and downtrodden were cared for. He was not just a warrior, but a protector of the common folk, and his actions earned him the love of many across the land.

Then, without warning, Waka disappeared. The arenas went silent in his absence, and speculation ran wild. Some said he had retreated to study even deeper magics, others whispered of a secret mission. But despite the rumors, no one truly knew why he had vanished, or where he had gone. Years turned into decades, and Waka's absence became a mystery, his name fading into legend.

It wasn’t until the Chaos Legion’s invasion that Waka resurfaced. As the forces of Chaos spread terror across Praetoria, a group of refugees fleeing the destruction in the Wild Northeast spotted a lone figure descending from the Feral Mountains. It was Waka, though now he was unrecognizable in his simplicity. Gone were the ornate battle robes and arena theatrics. He wore a humble cloak and carried a tall staff, his once-vibrant tattoos now muted by years of wear. Despite his humble appearance, the aura of power around him remained unmistakable.

He led the refugees through a narrow pass into a hidden canyon, where a lush valley opened before them. There, nestled in the hills, lay a thriving farmstead with terraced fields and wetlands, fed by a small river that wound its way through the canyon. Long huts, large enough to house entire villages, stood ready to shelter the displaced. It was clear that Waka had spent the years of his absence preparing this sanctuary—a place where the lost and hopeless could find safety and solace in a world ravaged by Chaos.

Waka became the quiet leader of this hidden community, gathering any lost souls he could find and bringing them to the safety of his hidden valley. Under his care, the settlement grew, and hope returned to the lives of those who had been shattered by war. Waka’s wisdom guided them, and his presence offered a sense of protection, as though no harm could come to them while he stood watch.

Yet, despite the peace he had created, Waka knew that his work was not done. Deep within him, the fire of the arena still burned, and he understood that the Chaos Legion posed a threat not only to the people he had saved, but to the very world itself. Though he had stepped away from the battles for a time, he could not ignore the call to action. One day, he would have to face the Chaos Legion head-on, to protect everything he had built and everything he held dear. The time was coming when Waka Spiritblade would once again don the mantle of summoner and battle mage, not for fame or fortune, but for the survival of Praetoria itself.

The legend of Waka Spiritblade, the Malphur who had once thrilled the masses with his magic and generosity, was far from over. His greatest battle was still to come, and when it did, all of Praetoria would once again see why he had been revered as the greatest summoner to ever live.