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Heavenly Sword By Vj Ice P

Sword of Kings

Llry Stromheart, seorang bangsawan dari wilayah terpencil Halsingmere, hidup di tengah ketegangan antara Utara dan Selatan Kerajaan Zaryssia. Saat Raja Zaryssia yang berasal dari Selatan mulai kehilangan kendali atas wilayah utara yang bergolak, ia menunjuk Llry—seorang bangsawan muda yang dikenal cakap dan loyal—sebagai gubernur khusus untuk menenangkan kawasan yang rawan pemberontakan itu. Llry menerima tugas itu dengan niat tulus menjaga persatuan kerajaan. Dalam waktu beberapa tahun, ia berhasil menstabilkan hampir seluruh wilayah utara melalui pendekatan diplomatis, reformasi ekonomi, dan kekuatan militer bila diperlukan. Ia mendapatkan kepercayaan rakyat, para pemimpin lokal, bahkan mantan pemberontak, dan wilayah Utara pun menjadi lebih makmur dan teratur dibanding wilayah Selatan. Namun, keberhasilan itu justru memunculkan rasa takut di hati sang Raja. Didorong oleh bisikan para bangsawan istana yang merasa terancam oleh pengaruh Llry yang meluas, Raja mulai mencurigainya. Llry dituduh hendak mendirikan kerajaan tandingan dan melakukan pengkhianatan. Tuduhan itu disebar ke publik, reputasinya dihancurkan, dan pasukannya diperintahkan untuk ditarik. Pengkhianatan ini memicu gelombang konflik yang tidak diinginkan Llry. Terdesak oleh fitnah dan tekanan politik, ia akhirnya terpaksa mempertahankan diri dan membela wilayah yang telah ia lindungi. Dari penjaga kerajaan, ia berubah menjadi penantang tahta, bukan karena ambisi, tapi karena tidak ada lagi jalan untuk kembali. Llry Stromheart akhirnya bangkit sebagai kekuatan baru, bukan untuk merebut mahkota demi kekuasaan, tetapi demi menegakkan kebenaran, keadilan, dan menyelamatkan Zaryssia dari kehancuran yang disebabkan oleh ketakutan dan intrik para penguasa lama.
Sajak_Hidup · 16 Views

Sword M

(SPOILER ALERT!!!!:) In a realm crushed under the iron fist of the ruthless tyrant Dextin, hope flickers like a dying ember. The story explodes in a moment of shocking defiance when the ancient, sentient Red Katana chooses Dran, a battle-scarred elite soldier, as its wielder. This isn't some destined hero; Dran is a man tormented by personal tragedy, his wife brutally murdered by Dextin himself. His desperate whisper—"Why the hell did you choose me?"—sets the stage for a rebellion born not of prophecy, but of raw, agonizing pain and a thirst for vengeance. The palace becomes a battleground of wills and blades. Dran's initial, impulsive strike against Dextin ignites an inferno, both literally and figuratively, as the palace burns and loyalties shift. Witnessing Dran's unyielding spirit, the oppressed elite soldiers, led by the steadfast Aingo, finally find their courage, abandoning their tyrant. While Dran faces Dextin in a brutal, no-holds-barred duel, Aingo orchestrates a desperate prison break, freeing countless villagers and sending Neon to protect Dran's young son, Rider. The climax is a devastating, fiery dance of death between Dran and Dextin, each fueled by a personal, consuming hatred. Despite suffering grievous wounds, Dran unleashes the Red Katana's full, unbridled power in a final, sacrificial attack. Though he falls, his dying wish to Aingo—to raise Rider as a warrior and the future wielder of the Red Katana—cements a new legacy. The Red Katana, now dormant but bound to the true Sword Master, awaits its next champion. Seventeen years later, the echoes of Dran's sacrifice linger, poised to awaken a new dawn for a land still yearning for true freedom.
Lil_Div · 4.3K Views

WarLords : Ice Viking's

The cold stone hall was dimly lit with flickering torches. Shadows stretched long across the floor. At the far end of the room, the King sat high on his throne, surrounded by High Lords, Generals, and Counselors. Silence hung thick in the air as the Ice Viking entered. He stood in the center, arms at his side, eyes forward. “Viking,” the King called from his seat. Varnok didn’t move. “Yes,” he replied flatly. One of the High Lords stood up in anger. “In the presence of your King—you kneel!” The knights draws their Swords. Varnok stayed still. “You’re not my king,” he said calmly. The King raised a hand. The knights lowered their swords. “Let him be,” the King said, leaning forward. “Ice Viking… step forward.” Varnok walked slowly across the cold stone floor. “There is war between the Vikings and this kingdom,” the King said. Varnok kept walking. “It’s your kingdom,” he answered. “That has nothing to do with me.” The lords murmured in outrage. “You think they’ll stop there?” the King asked, raising a hand for silence. “You know what those animals are like. Vikings… they don’t stop until they’ve burned everything to ash.” “And yet I’ve protected the village just fine,” Varnok said. “Without your help. Like it’s always been.” “Without my help, there’d be no village to protect,” the King snapped. “There is a village,” Varnok said, meeting his eyes. “And not once have you offered it your help.” “King... please. What an excuse.” The king nodded toward the general standing beside him. Without hesitation, the general stepped forward and struck Varnok across the face. Then a second punch to the stomach. Finally, a heavy kick to the leg. Varnok dropped to one knee. “Good,” the King said, tipping his goblet and pouring wine over Varnok’s head. “Like the animal you are.” Murmurs filled the hall. > "What an animal." "Fits clearly—a dog." "All Vikings should just die." "Disgusting things." The King laughed with joy as he was Pleased by the words of the people. He leaned forward again, with his voice low. “Maybe we should start with your wife… and child.” The room fell into a deadly stillness. Varnok’s eyes snapped open—glowing bright, ice-blue. A shiver cut through the entire hall. The ground began to vibrate. Goblets trembled. Torches flickered lower. Then came his voice—cold, deep, inhuman. Like the cracking of ancient glaciers. “If a single breath so much as brushes their skin…” “I will bring down such ruin upon this kingdom that even the crows will starve for lack of flesh. I will freeze your rivers. Silence your bells. And watch your palace rot from the inside—As your screams echo in halls no one dares enter. Pray your tongue forgets their names… before I remember yours.” No one moved everywhere was silent. Even the air seemed too afraid to stir.
vickysfantasy · 8.8K Views
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