No chain can stop one who yearns for freedom, no matter the consequences
Randle talks hard about The kingdom is ruled by a mysterious and imposing figure known as "The Iron King." While he does not forge weapons himself, he collects the finest ones crafted by the blacksmiths and uses them to carry out dark, secretive deeds to further his enigmatic goals. He conceals his true nature from the people, presenting himself as the kingdom's protector while exploiting the blacksmiths' skills to expand his influence and execute his sinister plans.
I walked into the dark cell that had been my home for the past few days. It wasn't like I remembered it before; the walls, once solid, were now covered in mud, and moisture clung to every surface. The air was suffocating, and insects crawled up the walls, but that didn't concern me as much as my past, which haunted me. My memories came at me one by one, as if I could not escape them even in this place.
My steps were silent, and my thoughts raced in my mind like shadows. How could I escape this prison the king had thrown me into? I had nothing but one thought in my head: I could not die here, I could not let them take me. I was the warrior who couldn't be defeated, the one nothing could stand against.
My missions had begun years ago, and everything seemed simple at first. Routine tasks, killing thieves, or capturing smugglers. But over time, things changed. My missions became more cruel, more vicious. Killing children, the elderly, anyone who dared defy the king's orders. My heart froze little by little, but I fought to survive.
Then came my task to kill one of the famous blacksmiths. This man wasn't just any blacksmith, he had been my caretaker. He was the one who had raised me after my parents died in the wars. I owed him so much, and he had taught me my swordsmanship, giving me the strength I had now. But I was forced to kill the man who raised me, simply because he refused to forge swords for the king's soldiers.
I entered his house quietly, and in a strange moment, I realized it was him—my caretaker. At that instant, I hesitated. I couldn't kill the man who had given me life. I returned to the palace and told the king I could not complete the mission. The king replied harshly, "Fine, no matter. Rest."
I hadn't expected the end to come this way, but it was only the beginning of what was to come.
When I returned home, the greatest shock awaited me. His body was lying on the ground, dead. I felt my anger erupt. I could no longer control my emotions. I rushed to the palace, where the strongest of the king's soldiers awaited me. They surrounded me from all sides and dragged me to prison, where I was locked up.
But I did not give up. There was only one way out, and I had to find it. I sat in my cell, listening to the sounds of the guards walking outside. I looked at the walls and noticed something strange. There were ripples in the walls, forming ancient, unclear patterns. I decided to investigate, and as I examined them, I discovered that one of the panels in the wall could be moved.
I slipped my hand into the grooves and carefully moved the panel until it opened up to reveal a narrow tunnel. I couldn't believe my eyes. This was my escape route. I crawled through the tunnel, avoiding any noise that might give me away. I thought about revenge, about how I would make those who betrayed me pay.
I had nothing but my sword and my memories. The escape was just the beginning.
Finally, I emerged into the open air, at night, with the wind howling through the trees, carrying me into the unknown. In that moment, I knew that what was to come was not just an escape, but a new beginning. The end I had been searching for was the very beginning I had lost.
At that moment, the entire "Firebow" squad watched Randell in silence. Time seemed to stop, with every sound around them fading away, as if only a storm of dust remained, swirling in the air. His presence, standing there with burning eyes filled with revenge, gave the sense that the world itself was at the mercy of his words.
"I lived in the shadows of the past, haunted by pain, and my blood has soaked in wars. But today, I am no longer just a victim of fate—I am the one who writes my destiny."
His voice echoed through the night,
Randell stood firm, as though sending an unspoken threat to everyone. His face displayed nothing but resolve, his words like knives cutting through the silence of the night.
He smiled a slight, bitter smile, then slowly turned his back, walking into the unknown as if daring the world itself to challenge him.Armaan replied to them, "I must have noticed you before. Now we must prepare."
At that moment, everything around had changed.In those simple words, had redefined the shape of his fate.