The main square was packed, a sea of faces all turned towards the stage where Marshall Merson had just wrapped up his speech. You could practically feel the tension in the air, a mix of emotions ready to explode at any second. The midday sun was beating down hard, but nobody seemed to notice. They were too focused on the drama unfolding before their eyes.
That's when it happened. As a match dropped on a dry field, a voice rose from the crowd: "Marshall's right! No more of the king's wasteful spending!"
Those words were like a spark to gunpowder. In an instant, the crowd's quiet murmur transformed into a rising crescendo of voices. The agitation spread like a wave, sweeping through the mass of people. Isolated voices joined together in a chorus that grew louder and more insistent by the second.
Marshall watched the scene, stunned. He hadn't expected his words to trigger such an immediate and powerful reaction. He felt the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders, but at the same time, a strange excitement coursed through him. Was this the power of truth?
Beside him, Elysia and Cedric moved closer, forming a united front. Cedric placed a hand on Marshall's shoulder. Their unity on stage created a powerful visual contrast with the increasingly agitated figure of King Richard standing alone.
"We're with you, till the end," Elysia whispered in Marshall's ear. Marshall smiled. At that moment, he didn't feel alone.
The presence of his companions beside him had a catalyzing effect on the crowd. People now saw a united front against the king. The energy in the square shifted, charging with expectation.
Elysia stepped forward to the edge of the makeshift stage. The square was teeming with people. She felt the weight of thousands of gazes on her, but she didn't falter. She had a message to deliver, and she knew this was the right moment.
"Citizens of the kingdom," she began, "I'm Elysia Miller, the last heir of the great Arboris enterprise. I'm here to talk to you about Marshall Merson."
She paused, scanning the crowd. She saw curiosity, skepticism, and hope.
"I participated in the Survivor Game with him. I saw with my own eyes what happened in that arena. It's not a game, it's not entertainment. It's brutality masquerading as a spectacle."
Her voice grew more intense, charged with emotion but without losing its composure.
"I saw friends die. I saw injustice reign supreme. But I also saw courage triumph over fear and the strength to always get back up, no matter what."
Elysia pointed to Marshall, standing nearby.
"This man, Marshall Merson, embodies all of that. I've seen him defy death time and time again, not for personal glory, but to protect others. I've seen him forge alliances with a game god, with dragons, and with various NPCs."
Her tone became more decisive, almost proud.
"Marshall ventured alone into the darkest and most dangerous heart of the Survivor Game, risking everything simply because we imposed it on him as the Joker Rank. And in the end, he built an army from nothing."
Elysia turned to Parabellum, who nodded in confirmation. In reality, deep down, he felt guilty for sending Marshall into the Depths of Vesuvietna.
"Parabellum and I are here today thanks to him. We owe our lives to Marshall's actions."
She turned back to the crowd, her voice rising in a controlled but powerful crescendo.
"If Marshall dared to stand up and speak, to challenge the established power for the good of all, can't we have the courage to listen to him? To act on what we've learned?"
Her voice became calmer, but no less intense.
"I'm not asking you to believe blindly. I'm asking you to open your eyes, to ask questions, to demand answers. I'm asking you to look beyond the shiny facade we've been presented and see the reality hiding behind it."
Elysia straightened up, her eyes shining with determination.
"It's time for change. It's time to put the people, all of us, first. No more deadly games for the entertainment of a few. No more secrets and lies. It's time for truth, for justice, for a kingdom that truly serves its citizens."
The crowd remained silent for a long moment, absorbing her words. Then, like a wave crashing on the shore, the applause began. It quickly grew into a deafening roar, an ovation that seemed to shake the very foundations of the square.
Marshall, standing next to Elysia, felt a lump in his throat. The support he was receiving was overwhelming, a tide of voices and applause that seemed unstoppable. He looked at Elysia, his eyes full of gratitude and admiration for his friend who had spoken with such passion and conviction.
The revolution that Marshall had started with his words was taking shape, fueled by Elysia's powerful testimony. Change, they both felt, was finally in the air.
Among the generals present on the stage, some began to exchange uneasy glances. The tension was palpable, and the balance of power seemed on the verge of shifting at any moment.
That's when something unexpected happened. General Marcus, a respected veteran with thirty years of service under his belt, stepped forward. His face was a mask of determination as he addressed the crowd:
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"I've served the king for thirty years, but I can no longer ignore the truth. Never have I been more proud of our people than today. I say this here and now: King Richard the Eighth is the worst king the Wyolands have had in the last 100 years!"
With a gesture that left everyone breathless, he took off the medal from his chest and handed it to Marshall. As if it had been a signal, two other generals followed his example. In a matter of moments, a visible fracture was created in the military ranks. It was a change that would have repercussions for years to come.
King Richard, who until that moment had remained in tense silence, seemed on the verge of exploding. His face was a mask of barely contained rage as he watched the growing support for Marshall. It was clear that he was losing control of the situation, and this made him dangerous.
With a visible effort to maintain calm, the king approached Marshall. A diplomatic smile, but clearly forced, was plastered on his face as he spoke:
"Mr. Merson," he said in a tense voice, "perhaps we should discuss these... concerns in private."
But Marshall wasn't intimidated. "No, Your Majesty. It's time these discussions take place in the light of day, in front of the people."
The crowd, sensing the confrontation on stage, became increasingly agitated. Shouts of "Down with the king!" mingled with "Long live Marshall!", creating a deafening chaos. Some, driven by the moment's excitement, tried to overcome the security barriers, pushing towards the stage. The guards were visibly struggling to maintain order.
King Richard, realizing he had lost control of the situation, raised his hands in a desperate gesture to ask for silence. With a forcedly calm voice, he began:
"Citizens of the Wyolands, perhaps I have made mistakes."
It was an unprecedented concession. The king, known for his inflexibility, was publicly admitting to having made mistakes. He continued, with a voice that betrayed growing frustration:
"I commit to reviewing the priorities of our kingdom, with the help of people like Mr. Merson."
His tone was conciliatory, but his eyes betrayed anger and frustration. It was clear that this was not a voluntary concession, but a desperate move to maintain power.
Marshall looked at the king, then at the crowd in turmoil. He was aware of the historic moment he was living, of the weight of his words and actions. With a determination that surprised even himself, he retook the microphone:
"We don't seek vengeance, but justice and change. Social Darwinism must end!"
His voice rang clear and powerful over the square. Marshall felt a new energy coursing through his veins as if all the trials faced in the Survivor Game had prepared him for this moment.
"It's time for the voice of the people to be heard," he continued with growing passion. "It's time to rebuild the Wyolands, together!"
The crowd exploded in a roar of approval. Marshall's name was being chanted in unison. Marshall, Elysia, and Cedric found themselves at the center of attention, acclaimed as heroes and leaders of a new era. King Richard, while formally maintaining his role, appeared visibly weakened, his authority eroded by Marshall's words and charisma. The dissident generals openly sided with Marshall. It was clear to everyone that nothing would ever be the same again.
The media attention was frenzied. Camera flashes illuminated the stage like lightning in a storm, while a forest of microphones extended towards Marshall. Journalists crowded, each eager to get an exclusive on his experience in the Survivor Game and his vision for the future of the Wyolands.
For Marshall, the entire situation seemed surreal. Never in his life had he received so much attention. Memories of his humble past surfaced strongly: the hard jobs, the oppressive debts, the daily struggles to make ends meet. The contrast with his current fame was mind-boggling.
Despite the euphoria of the moment, a part of Marshall was worried about future expectations. How would he manage this new life? How would he keep the promise of change made to the people? But he was determined not to forget his origins, to remain true to himself despite the radical change in circumstances.
As the crowd continued to acclaim him, Marshall allowed himself a moment of reflection. He thought back to the desperate boy who had entered the Survivor Game, crushed by debts and hopeless for the future. That boy had died in the game, forged by trials and battles into something new, something stronger.
With a deep breath, Marshall prepared to face the journalists' questions. He knew that every word he said would carry enormous weight, that it could influence the future of the entire nation. But he wasn't afraid. The Survivor Game had taught him to face the most desperate situations, to find solutions where there seemed to be none.
"I'm ready to answer your questions," he said in a firm voice to the sea of microphones in front of him.
***
A few days later, Marshall was finally returning home. The familiar environment had visibly improved thanks to the Survivor Game winnings. The walls had been repainted a warm cream color, the old and worn-out furniture replaced with new and comfortable pieces. There was an air of renewal and hope that permeated every corner of the house.
Marshall hesitated on the threshold. His heart was racing. For a moment, he feared finding hostility or resentment. After all, he hadn't told anyone about his participation in the Survivor Game.
As soon as he set foot in the house, his two sisters, Clementine and Ruby, ran to meet him. They overwhelmed him with a hug so strong it almost knocked him over.
"Marshall! You're back!" they cried in unison. Their voices were broken with tears of joy.
Little brother Oliver approached shyly with eyes wide with admiration. "You have to tell me everything," he said excitedly. "Every single detail!"
Finally, there was the most intense moment: the encounter with his mother, Grace. Without a word, they embraced in a tender and powerful hug. Tears flowed freely on their faces, but they were tears of pure happiness.
The family immediately noticed how Marshall had changed. His hugs were more open, warmer. There was a different aura around him as if a confident and determined man had replaced the troubled boy who had left.
"Mom," Marshall said with a voice broken by emotion, "we did it. You won't have to worry about anything anymore."
Grace looked at him with teary eyes, unable to speak. Her face, marked by the scars of the assault she had suffered years before, lit up with a smile that Marshall hadn't seen in a long, long time.
That evening, sitting around the kitchen table, Marshall told his family about his adventures in the Survivor Game. He talked about the challenges he faced, the alliances he formed, and the battles he fought. His voice cracked when he mentioned the companions lost along the way but filled with pride when he described the final triumph against BloodLust.
"It was terrifying," he admitted, "but every time I thought I couldn't make it, I thought of you. You were my strength, my reason to keep going."
His words deeply touched the family. Clementine and Ruby were openly crying, while Oliver looked at him with eyes full of admiration. Grace remained silent the whole time, but her expression spoke more than a thousand words.
Marshall had expected the loan sharks to show up, furious about the missed payment. But he had discovered that Survivor Game participants enjoyed a sort of immunity. At first, the loan sharks were indeed furious, but then they had changed their mind. The fame and prestige acquired by Marshall made any attempt at retaliation too risky.
***
The next day, Marshall decided to face the situation head-on. He presented himself directly to the loan sharks, but he wasn't alone. By his side was Parabellum, who turned out to be a Duke of the Wyolands. His regal presence and steely gaze were enough to make the loan sharks understand that it was better to drop any claims.