Cyrus covered his face, trying to process everything he had discovered so far. He had thought telling his mother about his exile would be too much for her to bear, but instead, everything she was telling him felt that way. So his father had seen this coming and prepared a way for his son ahead of time? His mother had also been accumulating wealth just so her son could stand a chance against all possible odds. He felt butterflies in his stomach, not knowing what to say. She placed both hands on her son's cheeks. "You have grown into a fine young man," she said. "You are my pride and joy. So know that even if you fail, I couldn't have asked for a better son." Then she brought both hands down and gestured towards the chest in the dark corner of the room. "Help yourself." Cyrus seemed reluctant to do so, and she understood why. "She didn't restrain you from taking at least a sack of gold, did she?" asked Thea. Cyrus looked back at her as if uncertain about the para

"What did you say?" asked Felix with a sudden frown, and Cyrus immediately took note. "Are you the Felix I'm looking for?" asked Cyrus, but Felix did not respond. "Wow, that makes us cousins! It's a thrill to meet you! Where is your mother?" That final question felt so provocative that Felix felt he didn't need to answer. Cyrus felt like he had struck a nerve but wasn't sure what he did wrong. "Hello?" Cyrus called. "Did I say anything inappropriate?" "Where is YOUR mother?" Felix asked Cyrus instead, with both hands folded. Cyrus arched his brow. "At the King's residence? She told me about both of you and extended her greetings to you as well." "How typical," Felix said. "I always told my mother that her sister didn't care anymore, yet she kept defending her, saying that she would have helped if she could." "Helped?" asked Cyrus. "Helped with what?" "My mother was sick," Felix said to him. "For almost three years. And for the past eight months, she w

Richard looked at Felix, who was now frowning at him as if he had broken a sacred promise. "He wishes to fight the Dakra with us," he said to Richard. "What happened with the Dakra?" asked Richard. "They came to cause trouble at the tavern, but the Prince single-handedly fought and sent them walking away in shame," Felix said. "Now they wish to come back for revenge, promising to be back with an army in three days to return the favor because they think we hired an outsider to make a mockery of them." Richard arched a brow, trying to comprehend that line of reasoning. "That's silly," he said. "I know, right?" replied Felix. Richard sighed before looking back at Cyrus. "Tell you what," he said. "Prove to me and everyone that you would be a far better leader by leading this village to victory against the Dakra when the time comes. If you do so, I will put my faith in you and follow you for the rest of my days. Does that sound good?" Cyrus sighed. "That would be quite difficult, not

Robin got to his feet, swatting off the dust from his clothes while the others looked at him without saying anything. He didn't need them to say anything, though, as he knew they were all disapproving of what he had done. In that same manner, Robin turned away, dragging his pitchfork as he retired to his home. "Aren't you going to stay with us?" asked Eros. "We are just about to start." Robin gave no answer as he got back into his hut and shut the door closed. He couldn't even bring himself to look back at them, thanks to his hurt ego. Eros called his name one more time before another one of them placed his hand on his shoulder and shook his head. "Let him cool off," he said. "Don't force it." "In his current situation, we'd be better off without him anyway," John added. Then the man who had stopped Eros looked back at Cyrus. He was a tall man with a great muscular build, probably the largest of all of them, and had a docile outlook. Cyrus was starting to like him. "What is your

The men turned back to join Cyrus, but for some of them, it was already too late as the burning arrows had impaled them. The others ran forward while the unfortunate ones fell and perished with burning arrows in their chests. Some had arrows run through their bowels, and others through their hips and thighs, but they persevered, knowing there was no other way forward than to fight or die in complacency, and they had chosen the former. Cyrus clicked his tongue, angry with himself for not seeing this sooner. Of course, he had heard of strategies used by leading governments to quell rebellions in lower regions, but he had underestimated the Dakras' ability to use such tactical moves, given their savage tendencies. All surviving men had reassembled at the front of the village, and the downpour of arrows had ceased. Multiple villagers had died, along with a few of the men who were to defend the city. But now wasn't the time to mourn; they had to act as though some of their own had not die