Far out in the vast, unforgiving oceans, the ancient kingdom of Madmen found itself embroiled in a relentless conflict with three other mighty realms, all vying for supremacy in the region. King Joker IV, ruler of Madmen, grappled with growing impatience as the protracted struggle sapped the kingdom's finite resources. He keenly sensed that the war could not persist much longer without spelling their own inevitable demise.
Joker couldn't shake off his worry about the task at hand. He had the weighty responsibility of choosing an heir, someone truly deserving of carrying on his legacy. It didn't matter if the chosen one was the eldest or youngest of his three sons; what mattered was finding the individual who could bravely bear the burden of continuing his profound struggle.
In the opulent royal court, he poised regally upon his throne, adorned with shimmering gems, his posture exuding authority and power as he eagerly anticipated updates from the distant battlefronts. Suddenly, a hushed murmur spread throughout the hall as a solemn messenger made his entrance, bearing news of great consequence.
"Long live, my king. I have brought news for you."
"What is it?" The king demanded.
"The kingdom of Wild has captured another fort of ours. The fort of Zumba is not ours anymore."
Joker's face contorted with tension as the weight of the news settled upon him. He understood the dire implications of the situation - if things continued on this path, the enemy would soon lay claim to his capital. "Curse those Wild savages," he muttered under his breath. Observing the messenger's hesitance, Joker discerned that there was more to be conveyed. "Is there something else I should be made aware of?" he inquired, his voice betraying a hint of urgency.
"My king," the messenger spoke, "Prince Hammer…"
"What happened to the prince?"
As the messenger was speaking in hushed tones, conveying urgent news to the king, an imposing figure walked into the grand royal court, instantly capturing everyone's attention.
With a furrowed brow and a sense of dominance in his voice, Prince Hammer, the firstborn of the royal family, interrupted, "What would happen to me, father?" His striking blond hair fell in disarray around his weary face, revealing signs of hard-fought battles etched upon his person. Dust clung to his battle-worn armor, and his hands and face bore the evidence of recent skirmishes, marked by scratches and bruises that told their own silent tales. At that moment, he resembled a younger image of his regal father, hinting at the legacy of strength and resilience that ran deep within their bloodline.
The color drained from the messenger's face as he laid eyes on the prince, dread etched across his features, as though he had not anticipated encountering him there.
The king, a commanding figure with a thick, imposing beard, did not offer a warm welcome to his returning son. Instead, he was consumed by a powerful wave of anger. "Why are you here? Did I not send you to protect the fortress?" he thundered.
"Calm down, father. You also know we could not save those fortresses. It is your uselessness that is causing this," the prince replied, his voice filled with frustration.
"My prince, you are talking to the king," an old minister tactfully reminded him.
"I am talking to my father," the prince declared, turning back to address his father. "I thought I was welcome here, but it seems I am not." Turning to leave, he added, "I am returning to the battlefield and I would not return until…"
"Until what? Stop and complete your sentence," the king demanded, his voice sharp with authority.
The prince halted in his tracks, speaking without turning back. "Until I get what I want," he declared firmly before striding away.
The king seethed with anger at his son's behavior. Not only had he lost the fortress, but his son had dared to talk back to him. He had always been a rebel, but now the king feared something more insidious had taken hold—greed for the throne. He worried if the greed had entered his son's head, it would be devastating. But he was still not sure.
The king's solemn voice resonated in the grand hall as he addressed the petrified messenger, "You were about to say something, messenger."
The once paralyzed messenger visibly collected himself and responded, "Yes, my king. Commander Jumbo had sent me with this urgent message."
Just as the messenger began relaying the important news, a soldier burst into the court, seeking the king's attention. "My king, our soldiers have brought in something," the soldier reported.
Eager to uncover the commotion, the king commanded, "Bring it in."
With an air of astonishment, the soldiers unveiled a cloth bag in the royal court, turning the heads of all present. As the contents within the mysterious bag were revealed, a palpable sense of shock rippled through the court.
The tension in the court was palpable as the king carefully observed the solemn expressions on the faces of the soldiers. "What is it? Show me," he demanded, a sense of apprehension evident in his voice.
The soldiers solemnly retrieved the chilling item that had brought them to the court. Gasps and murmurs of shock resonated through the court as the revolting truth was revealed - it was a head, a grim testament to the brutality of the situation.
"Jumbo?" the king murmured, his voice faltering in disbelief as he struggled to comprehend the ghastly sight before him.
"Commander Jumbo," the messenger confirmed, his own shock evident in his tone. "But he…"
"Who did this?" The king's authoritative voice crackled with fury. "Tell me who did this!"
The soldiers had no answer, but the messenger did. "My king, it is Prince Hammer."
"What?" The king's eyes widened in surprise as shock rippled through his body. "Are you in your right mind? What are you talking about?" His voice trembled with a mix of confusion and concern as he took a step closer to the messenger, his kingly stature towering over the room.
"My king, Commander Jumbo had found out that the prince was organizing a rebellion against you. He had sent me to give you his message that the prince has united the rebel bordering tribes under his own command overnight. How he managed to do it is still a mystery."
The king's expression was a mix of shock and dismay as he struggled to process the incredulous news. His worst fears had materialized before his very eyes.
"So, it has come to pass that the prince, in a brazen act of defiance, has taken the life of the commander," the old minister uttered with a somber tone.
The king, with a grave look in his eyes, revealed, "He came here to warn me," before issuing a firm order. "Search for the prince wherever he may be! Bring him to me, whether dead or alive."
"As you wish, my king," the venerable minister inclined respectfully and departed from the court.
In an unexpected turn of events, a new messenger burst into the court, his urgent voice filling the room. "My liege, the neighboring tribes have launched a sudden attack on the nearby fortresses and successfully seized control of them."
King Joker remained stoic as he took his seat upon the grand throne. "So it begins, Hammer," he murmured, struggling to comprehend how swiftly the prince orchestrated such a bold move. Suddenly, a sharp pain jolted through his chest. "Huh?" Startled, he glanced down to find a dagger embedded in his chest. "How could…" The grim truth dawned on him as he realized that his very own bodyguard had betrayed him.
Amidst the chaos and treachery, the echoes of the bodyguard's final words, "Long live, Prince Hammer!" reverberated through the palace corridors, only to be abruptly silenced by the other guards.
The king's figure crumbled to the ground, his final breath escaping as a half-formed murmur, forever to remain a mystery. "Colt is my h…" were the last words that parted his lips before eternity claimed him.
"The palace is under attack!" a soldier cried all of a sudden.
Rebellion had spread among some of the soldiers under the prince's influence, turning the once peaceful corridors into scenes of massacre and chaos. Hammer had already departed the premises before the dreadful events unfolded.
***
Before long, the kingdom had succumbed...to his grasp. The untamed tribes had overtaken the neighboring territories, leaving only the grand capital city standing. As soon as the last of his adversaries was vanquished, the prince strode into the palace as a triumphant conqueror.
Without wasting a moment, he promptly asserted his claim to the grand throne, solidifying his reign.
"I declare myself the new king of Madmen!" He declared emphatically. Standing before him in chains was the elderly minister. "So, you old man, Joker ordered you to catch me, huh?" He chuckled.
"What you have done is unforgivable," the minister retorted. "The other nobles will not stand idly by while you betray your own nation."
"I have not deceived anyone!" Hammer bellowed, visibly agitated by the accusation. "Joker has betrayed us all. His pursuit of power led us into war and brought about these calamities. I am the solution to this suffering! Can't you see?" With a signal to the soldier, he commanded the execution of the old man, and the soldier heeded his order.
In an instant, the old man's head lay on the floor, rolling.
"My king," respectfully addressed Hammer's loyal associate Varius, a young man with long, flowing locks. "As he rightly observed, how do you intend to handle the other princes?"
"We need not be concerned about Colt, my younger brother," Hammer assured. "Brave as he may be, he lacks political acumen. Upon completing his obligations in the kingdom of Vriton, he will return to us. Our true threat lies in Rozerd, who currently evades capture at the cost of his own safety."
"The fact that Rozerd survived the ambush is indeed astonishing," Varius expressed.
"My dear Varius, such resilience is typical of my brother. While he may be as sly as a fox, I am well-equipped to handle him. Unlike Colt, Rozerd lacks the audacity to confront us directly. He will undoubtedly seek refuge among our adversaries, sealing his own fate in the process."
"You possess remarkable foresight, my lord," Varius acknowledged with a smirk.
"Prepare an extravagant reception for Prince Colt. The lamb must be well-nourished before its inevitable sacrifice," Hammer declared with a sly grin.
"Your commands shall be carried out without delay, my lord," Varius acquiesced before exiting the court.
***
"What have you done, brother?" Colt said. As his ship sailed through the vast expanse of the ocean towards his homeland, he couldn't shake off the burden of his brother's actions. Madmen, the land that flanked the ocean on one side and stretched into the mainland on the other, awaited him.
In his twenties, Colt possessed a striking appearance. His short, tousled blonde hair complemented his medium height, and his features bore a sharpness that mirrored his brother's.
"Are you certain about this, my prince?" Colt's right-hand man, Gilbert, expressed his concerns. "We don't know what he might do to you. Do you still intend to go?" He was a middle-aged bald man with a french beard named Gilbert.
"I am not in danger as long as I do not show my rebelliousness. He will likely want me to stand with him against my brother, Rozerd, knowing my skills as a warrior," Colt explained confidently.
"Will you stand with him?" Gilbert inquired.
"No," Colt responded firmly.
"What's your plan then?"
"I'm still figuring it out…"
Gilbert couldn't contain his frustration upon realizing Colt had no concrete plan. "How can you be so careless? I thought you had a strategy."
Colt chuckled nervously, admitting, "You know I struggle with these things."
"Perhaps we should reconsider and head back," Gilbert suggested.
"No," Colt asserted, his gaze unwavering.
"But…" Gilbert attempted to argue, but Colt interjected.
"I need to face my brother and look him in the eye. I'm not afraid of him. He might be the strongest, but I have the same bloodline and I won't let it be in vain. I promise," Colt assured, determination evident in his voice.
Gilbert nodded, smiling at Colt's resolve. "So, you've made your decision."
"Yeah," Colt confirmed.
They both gazed at the horizon, anticipation building as the land came into view.