Before Kael Rogathrone could ascend to his destined council seat, he was cast into the inferno of trials—an unrelenting crucible designed to forge boys into men, sharpening their instincts into weapons and their will into iron. The path to power in Velmora was never given; it was seized through blood, sweat, and an indomitable spirit.

Kael and three others, chosen by the shadows that whispered of their potential, were thrown into the depths of wilderness—a vast, untamed jungle where death lurked behind every shadow. No weapons, no supplies, only their wits and endurance. For months, they lived like beasts, fighting starvation, enduring the howls of unseen predators, and navigating treacherous terrain where the strong devoured the weak. Every dawn was a battle, every dusk a victory.

Yet, the jungle was only the first trial. When their bodies were honed to survive, their minds had to be tempered. Mock battles followed—fierce, brutal clashes where they fought against seasoned warriors who showed no mercy. Each lesson carved into their flesh, each failure met with pain. Strategies were drilled into their bones, tactics tested under the unforgiving eyes of their instructors. This was not training; this was rebirth.

Two years passed within this hell. The four who emerged were no longer mere youths. At twenty, Kael and his comrades were warriors forged in suffering, their eyes holding the weight of unseen battles, their souls scarred with the knowledge of what it took to stand at the summit.

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And now, the council seat awaited.

The wind carried the scent of old parchment and burning embers as Kael stood before the grand hall, his mind flickering between the present and the past. His grandfather's voice echoed in his memories, a deep, weathered tone filled with sorrow and rage.

"They took everything from us, Kael. The moment your father stood for justice, the monarch of Rhinestone signed his death warrant. A silent blade in the dark. A command given from a golden throne, dripping with the blood of the innocent."

Kael clenched his fists as the images of that night resurfaced—his father, Nuzel Rogathrone, the noble Prime Minister of Velmora, slain in cold blood. It was no mere assassination. It was a message, a declaration that Rhinestone's monarch would silence any who opposed his rule. Velmora was meant to cower, to bow before the crown of a tyrant.

But Kael did not learn submission. He learned vengeance.

His grandfather had made sure of that.

Through years of grueling lessons, through the fire of trials, the wisdom of war, and the relentless forging of mind and body, Kael had been prepared for the inevitable. The council seat was only the beginning. The death of Rhinestone's monarch was an inevitability.

And soon, the world would know that no throne built on blood could stand forever.

© 2025 Jatin. All Rights Reserved.

This story, [VOID RE-BORN], is an original work by Jatin. Unauthorized copying, reproduction, distribution, or adaptation of any part of this story without the author's written consent is strictly prohibited.

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