Chapter 4: The Dilemma
Raza, a land of breathtaking landscapes and abundant resources, was once a region where nature and civilization thrived in perfect harmony. Rolling hills carpeted with lush greenery stretched as far as the eye could see, while majestic mountains stood tall, their snow-capped peaks piercing the sky. Rivers flowed like veins through the land, their waters crystal clear, nourishing the fertile plains that provided bountiful harvests year after year.
In the heart of Raza, three great nations—Retsyd, Knorr, and Tora—flourished. Each kingdom was a testament to the strength and resilience of its people. Cities of marble and stone, adorned with grand palaces and bustling marketplaces, were centers of culture, trade, and knowledge. The air was once filled with the sound of laughter, the melodies of songbirds, and the hum of peaceful daily life.
But now, that peace is shattered. The beauty of Raza has been marred by the relentless march of war. The once-vibrant forests are now scorched and barren, their trees reduced to smoldering stumps. Rivers, once teeming with life, now run red with the blood of those who have fallen in battle. The skies, once clear and blue, are darkened by the smoke of burning villages and the shadow of impending doom.
Raza is no longer a land of beauty and prosperity; it is a battlefield, torn apart by the ambitions of men and the greed of nations. The once-great cities are now fortresses, their walls strengthened not to keep out nature's wrath, but to defend against the ever-present threat of invasion. The people, who once lived in harmony with the land, now cower in fear, uncertain of what the next day will bring.
In this land, where the echoes of a once-glorious past now clash with the harsh realities of the present, the Kingdom of Retsyd finds itself at a crossroads. Once a beacon of strength and prosperity, Retsyd now teeters on the brink of being dragged into a war it has so far managed to avoid. Every decision, every move is a gamble, with the lives of its people hanging in the balance.
And so, on this day, as the war drums echo in the distance and the smoke of burning villages darkens the skies, King Retgard Arc Retsyd III sits at the head of the grand oak table in the war chamber, his gaze stern and unyielding. The fate of Retsyd will be decided here, within these walls, by the men who now gather around him.
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King Retgard Arc Retsyd III sat at the head of the grand oak table in the war chamber, his gaze stern and unyielding as he listened to the fierce debate around him. The kingdom's top military and officials clashed over the growing threat beyond their borders, each word spoken with the gravity of a sword strike.
"We cannot afford to remain neutral, Your Majesty," declared General Fael, his fist striking the table with conviction. "If we do not act now, the war will reach our borders, and Retsyd will be caught unprepared!"
"Rushing into action could provoke both Knorr and Tora!" countered Lord Aiken, his voice cutting through the room with equal force. "A single misstep, and we’ll be crushed between their armies. We must tread carefully or risk the annihilation of our people."
The king’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the rising tension. He weighed each argument in silence, his mind a battlefield of conflicting strategies. The future of Retsyd hung precariously in the balance, and one wrong decision could spell doom for his kingdom.
The heavy oak doors suddenly flew open, and all eyes turned as a young messenger stumbled into the room, his face pale, his clothes drenched in sweat. "My king," he gasped, "I bring urgent news!"
One of the senior military officials glared at the boy, his eyes blazing with anger. "Have you no manners, boy? This is a high council meeting! You have no right to barge in here like this!"
But before the boy could stammer a response, King Retgard raised his hand, silencing the room with a single word. "Speak," commanded the king, his voice calm but commanding.
"The village nearest to the border—Eldoria—has been attacked!" the messenger blurted out, his voice trembling. "Soldiers in Torian uniforms... they slaughtered the villagers. Captain Bernan suspects it’s a scheme to drag us into the war."
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A stunned silence fell over the chamber. The tension, already thick, became almost suffocating as the implications of the news sank in. Duke Leon Ainsworth was the first to react, slamming his fist onto the table. "What?! This cannot go unanswered, my king! We must retaliate, or they’ll see us as weak!"
King Retgard stood, his tall figure imposing over the assembled officials. His expression was grave, his decision already forming. "Assemble the army," he ordered, his voice cutting through the silence. "Man the borders and tighten security. And find out if Argenson is still alive. Our next move depends on that."
The messenger hesitated, glancing nervously at the king. "My king, the attack was devastating. If Argenson is alive, he may be in no condition to—"
"Enough," the king interrupted, his tone final. "Do as I have ordered."
A man with graying hair, Vice Count Rio, leaned forward, his voice heavy with skepticism. "My king, if I may—who is this Argenson? Why does his survival matter so much?"
The king’s gaze hardened as he turned to face the room, his words deliberate and filled with purpose. "Colim Argen Marlvarson, known as Argenson, is one of the Three Stars—warriors I personally selected and trained. Each of them possesses extraordinary abilities. One can summon and control fire; another can move with such speed that he catches cannonballs in midair. But Argenson... he is the most dangerous and loyal of them all."
The room fell silent as King Retgard continued, his voice carrying the weight of the kingdom’s history. "Argenson's strength is unmatched. He could lift a horse and hurl it with ease. His precision in battle is terrifying, and his brutality on the field is unrivaled. Some say he’s a one-man army."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in. The officials exchanged uneasy glances, realizing the gravity of the man the king spoke of.
"I saw Argenson annihilate twenty men with a single slash of his sword," King Retgard continued, his voice dropping to a low, intense tone. "He used a technique he created himself—the Sun Sword Technique, First Ray of Light. We saw a flash of light, and then half the bodies of the twenty men he fought went flying, their faces frozen in shock and awe. Argenson is a man of focus, commitment, and sheer will—something some of you know nothing of."
The weight of the king’s words hung heavily in the air, the room thick with the realization of the power Argenson wielded.
"But Argenson’s loyalty was tested when he met a woman from Eldoria," the king continued, his tone now tinged with a hint of regret. "He defied me—his king—demanding to be with her. To prove his loyalty, I gave him an impossible task: destroy Knorr’s entire navy. He did, and because of him, Knorr signed a treaty, ending the war between our nations."
King Retgard’s eyes darkened as he recounted the past. "In return, I granted him his wish, allowing him to live in peace with the woman he loved in Eldoria. From that day, I never saw Argenson again."
He looked directly at Vice Count Rio, his expression somber. "Argenson is the reason you and your family are alive today, Vice Count. He is the reason our kingdom has thrived in peace. If he is dead, we will avenge him and honor him as a hero. If he lives... then we already have an army at our borders."
The chamber was filled with a heavy silence, the officials and military leaders awed by the man they had only heard whispers of.
"But my king," a hesitant voice broke the silence, "what will we do while waiting to confirm if Argenson is still alive?"
The king’s gaze turned steely, his resolve clear. "We must prepare for a large-scale war. Have the borders tightened and security increased. We cannot wait idly by; the time to act is now."
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After the meeting concluded, Colim, his eyes burning with determination, began his ascent through the treacherous mountains that stretched across the land like a natural fortress. The climb was perilous, the winds biting at his skin, but he pressed on, his resolve unwavering.
As he reached the mountain's peak, he paused, drawing his sword from its scabbard. The blade gleamed under the fading light, a reflection of his unyielding will. Colim carefully polished the sword, each stroke a silent prayer for strength. When he was finished, he placed the sword on a flat rock, which jutted out like an ancient altar.
He knelt before the sword, his head bowed, hands clasped in solemn prayer. "Great gods, hear my plea," he whispered, his voice carrying the weight of a man who had lost everything. "Grant me the strength to walk through the valley of death, and guide my hand as I seek those who have taken all that I love."
As he prayed, the sun broke through the clouds, casting a single ray of light upon the sword. The blade shone brilliantly, as if the gods themselves were answering his call. Colim felt a surge of power, the warmth of the sunlight a sign that his prayers had not gone unheard.
When he opened his eyes, they were filled with a cold, vengeful fire. Smoke began to rise from the sword, heated by the intense beam of sunlight. The metal hissed as the smoke curled into the air, the sword seeming to come alive with the promise of vengeance.
Colim looked up, still kneeling, his eyes narrowed with fury and an unquenchable thirst for retribution. His voice was low, yet it carried the weight of an unbreakable oath. "All of you will feel my wrath."
The chapter ended with those words echoing in the air, a promise of the storm to come.
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