The kingdom of Valdoria was crumbling from within. Corruption festered like a disease, rotting the heart of its once-prosperous lands. The rich grew fatter on stolen wealth, while the common folk, battered by famine and oppression, lived in fear and despair. It was a kingdom ruled by parasites, feeding off the lifeblood of the innocent. But soon, that would change.

A storm was rising.

And at its center stood a man who would shake the very foundation of the realm.

Lucian Valtheron.

The darkened alleyways of Ravenguard, the kingdom’s most fortified city, whispered secrets as a cloaked figure moved through them like a phantom. The moon’s pale light barely reached the ground, shrouded by the looming buildings that cast long, menacing shadows. Lucian walked with purpose, his footfalls eerily silent, his piercing gaze hidden beneath his hood.

He had spent years preparing for this night.

He stopped before a seemingly abandoned structure, its walls cracked with age, its wooden door barely holding onto rusted hinges. He knocked once, then twice, a precise rhythm that signaled those inside. A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit chamber filled with tense figures. Men and women, all with eyes that held the glint of desperation and fury.

They were not soldiers. They were not assassins.

They were victims, molded into weapons by pain and suffering.

Lucian stepped inside, his presence commanding silence. He scanned the room, reading each face as if peeling back the layers of their souls. Broken fathers, widowed mothers, orphans who had grown up too fast—all gathered under one roof, united by the same hatred for the kingdom’s ruling class.

“You seek justice,” Lucian’s voice cut through the silence, smooth yet sharp, like the edge of a blade. “You seek vengeance for what was taken from you. And I will give it to you.”

A man stepped forward, his face gaunt from starvation, his hands trembling with barely contained rage. “Governor Aldric took my daughter. Sold her to slavers while I begged at his feet. I want his head. I want to hear him scream.”

Lucian studied the man, his cold eyes unreadable. “And you shall have it,” he said. “But understand this—revenge alone is a fleeting satisfaction. If we cut off one head, another will grow in its place. We will not be savages lashing out in blind fury. We will be executioners, striking with precision. We will not simply kill a man. We will burn his legacy to the ground.”

The murmurs in the room swelled. This was not a reckless rebellion; this was something far more dangerous. A plan calculated to dismantle the very system that had oppressed them.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Lucian raised his hand, silencing them once more. “Tonight, we set an example. We do not just kill Governor Aldric. We erase his very existence from history. And with his fall, we send a message that no amount of gold, no army of knights, can protect the corrupt from judgment.”

Elsewhere in the city, within the grand estate of Governor Aldric, another discussion was taking place—one fueled by fear and arrogance.

Cedric Alistair, Captain of the Royal Knights, sat in an ornate chair, his fingers tapping the hilt of his sheathed sword. Across from him, Governor Aldric paced the chamber, his plump face twisted with irritation.

“These rebels are growing bolder!” the governor spat, gulping down a goblet of wine. “They’ve attacked shipments, raided supply caravans! If they are not crushed now, they will become a real threat.”

Cedric remained silent, his sharp blue eyes observing the governor with a mixture of disdain and calculation. He had no love for these greedy nobles, but his duty was to the kingdom, not to his personal opinions.

“They will be dealt with,” Cedric said finally, rising to his feet. “I will oversee the patrols tonight myself.”

Aldric scoffed. “See to it that you do. I refuse to let some filthy beggars ruin—”

The sound of shattering glass interrupted him.

Cedric’s instincts flared as he turned just in time to see one of the governor’s guards collapse, foam spilling from his mouth. The wine—poisoned. Another guard staggered, gripping his throat before crumpling to the ground.

The attack had already begun.

Shadows danced along the estate walls as masked figures emerged from the darkness. They moved swiftly, blades cutting through unsuspecting guards with ruthless efficiency. Screams echoed, but the chaos was orchestrated—it was not a slaughter, it was a performance.

Lucian stepped through the chaos, untouched by the bloodshed around him. His movements were methodical, precise, as if he had seen this moment play out a thousand times before.

He reached the governor’s chamber, pushing open the heavy wooden doors. Aldric stumbled back, fear distorting his once-arrogant face.

“W-Wait! I can pay you!” Aldric stammered, his voice cracking. “Name your price!”

Lucian tilted his head, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “You think this is about money?” he murmured.

He advanced, slow and deliberate, savoring the governor’s terror.

“You stole from the poor. You sold children to slavers. You let families starve while you feasted on their suffering.”

Aldric fell to his knees, whimpering. “Please! I—”

The blade struck cleanly, silencing him forever.

Lucian wiped the blood from his dagger and placed a single parchment on Aldric’s corpse. Written in ink as dark as the night, it read:

The corrupt will fall. The reckoning has begun.

Cedric arrived seconds too late.

The estate was in ruins. The stench of death clung to the air, mingling with the smoke of burning banners. He stormed into the governor’s chamber, his eyes narrowing at the sight before him.

Aldric’s body lay limp, his lifeless eyes wide with terror. The note on his chest sent a chill through Cedric’s spine. He clenched his fists, his mind already racing.

This was no ordinary rebellion.

This was something far more dangerous.

As he stepped back, his instincts flared once more. Something was watching him. Someone.

From the shadows beyond the broken window, a cloaked figure observed in silence.

Lucian Valtheron had come face to face with the kingdom’s strongest knight.

But tonight was not the night they would cross blades.

Lucian smirked before vanishing into the darkness, leaving behind only whispers, fear, and the promise of what was to come.

The revolution had begun.

TO BE CONTINUED……..