"Roberto!" she cried out, tears streaming down her face as she watched him being taken to the plaza, bound by dark chains. Guards stood at every corner of the plaza, blocking the path of common folk.
His tattered armour revealed a torn and blood-soaked tunic over gruesome wounds. Though battered and bruised, his face was stoic and unmoved.
He trudged along, surrounded by guards, barely conscious, step by step, inch by inch into the centre of the plaza, his body limp and weak.
Nobles lined themselves upon the upper pavilions of the plaza, silently watching above as the criminal was brought forth before them.
The plaza was filled with the jeers and yells of common folk. Man, woman, and child—there were no exceptions. Their voices echoed within his mind. He grimaced as he witnessed those whom he had fought for cheer at his downfall.
The jeers grew louder. One man broke through the guards, hurling a rock at Roberto's face. It struck with a sickening thud, blood trickling down his forehead, yet Roberto stood firm, his expression unchanged.
The guards stood by, indifferent, as the rocks pelted Roberto, each one finding its mark. His armour offered no protection, and the chains kept him immobile. He was at the mercy of the mob.
"STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP!" the girl pleaded with the crowd, rushing to stop those throwing the rocks. She then fell to her knees, realising she was unable to influence the people. "He's going to die," she cried to herself.
The floor of the plaza now painted with his blood, Roberto looked towards the sky, slowly inhaling and exhaling, no longer concerned with the jeers of others but the tranquil heavens above.
"Beautiful," he whispered to himself, absorbed in the scenic expanse.
"Roberto!" one nobleman from the upper pavilions shouted. "A lone scholar!" he laughed hysterically.
"You can't make this up!" another laughed, causing the rest of the nobles to join in hysterical laughter.
One noblewoman launched a vegetable; it splattered across his tattered, bloodied visage. "You should have stayed a scholar!" she laughed, launching two more at him.
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"What madness drove you to storm a royal stronghold all alone?" sneered another, his laughter mingling with the crowd's jeers.
"What did you hope to achieve!" exclaimed another as he launched another vegetable towards Roberto.
He stood there, weakened and humiliated; however, his eyes, which faced the sky above, were unwavering.
"HE SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT TWICE BEFORE DEFYING THE HEAVENS!" a young noble boy screeched, launching a dagger towards Roberto.
Roberto exhaled one last time, recalling the days of his youth, sitting at his desk absorbed in his literature. The same azure sky which shone above him then still shone above him now.
He turned viciously towards the dagger which hurtled towards him and caught it with his teeth, biting down, crushing the metal in the process.
This immense show of strength instantly caused the guards to aim their weapons at him, the jeers now silenced by a single move. Roberto stood there, no longer gazing towards the sky, bound but still an ever-looming threat to those who surrounded him.
"HEAVENS?" he roared. "THE SKY HAS NO MASTER," he bellowed, causing a shockwave to fill the plaza.
"You are no heaven. I am a threat to you 'noble' men! Mortals like us could never be a threat to the true sky under which they take shelter!" he continued, his eyes facing all those around him in the plaza.
The noblemen watched Roberto with caution until one arose from the masses, a white-haired old man wearing a beautifully woven suit. He donned light armour over his noble attire in the form of armguards and metal ornaments. His sheathed sword in hand, used as a walking stick, added to his dangerous demeanour. The sounds of his footsteps, altered by the sword tapping across the floor, caused all the nobles to quiet down.
Once at the bottom of the plaza, the man walked up to Roberto, his sword tapping across the floor. He stood across from him, eyes facing his wounded visage.
"A caged tiger is still a tiger," the man chuckled. "What were you hoping to achieve with this display?" the man asked Roberto.
"Hope," Roberto replied, as blood trickled down his lip.
"A scholar will always be a scholar. Believing in such nonsense will do nothing but rid the world of its young men," the man retorted. "What can one man hope to achieve when faced with the immensity of this world?"
Roberto smiled and said:
"If I have no allies, I will make them. If all I have are enemies, I will make more. If the world deems me a villain, I will be the worst one. But by nature, I am kind, and by choice, I will be strong. My body bears soil and my spirit bears the sun. My words carry the seeds, sprouting a will that lives on."