《Tarshkila》 Tarshkila It was a night in the year 730. An argument broke out in a manor house. ¡®We won''t have this, you violent father! - Then leave my house, you outcasts!¡¯ Two teenagers leave the family home, In the rain and the storm, announcing their doom. Twenty winters ago, In a village now turned to dust, The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The peasants lived through an attack by virulent cattle. Here, these animals have nothing to envy those of your popular beliefs. Here, their horns are sharp and their mouths spit fiery projectiles. ¡®We''re finished! Our village will perish like all the others! - Peasants, line up! We won''t end up as spelt!¡¯ The poor men took up their positions. One charge was enough to break their spirit and their determination. ¡®But who can save us? - Are we finished? - Fear not, I am with you.'' From the depths of the village, he illuminated Straw houses and small pastures. His muscular frame was like a mountain. He faced the raging bovine army. And with a movement that would make you shudder, he shot their leader in the head. The others became docile towards him. The hero had just reclaimed a savage army. And while his silhouette seemed to take up every part Horizon, he exclaimed: ¡®Today, I announce the creation of my Empire. Tarshkila will extend wherever the eye can see, our dominators will become partners or perish!¡¯ Tarshkila Marcheroi The page is turned, the pen has already been lifted and the ink has dried. The year was 740. The Empire of Tarshkila had flourished. It had blossomed into a superb city. The whole of the Earth was under its reinforced protection. But all these events took place far from here. In a village far, far away, MarcheRoi. In a makeshift house. A man was slowly brewing a cup of coffee and eating a plum. He was beardless and wore worn peasant clothes, just like his voice. Wrinkles had taken their toll on the man''s face, even though he was in his prime. ¡®Ruh! Ruh! came a cheerful cry, racing down the stairs. - Good morning, Brother,¡¯ said Ruh, taking him in his arms with gentle wisdom. Did Lea sleep well? - Oh yes, she''ll be here soon!'' This is Habib, Ruh''s little brother. Two years separate them, but they are like two bodies for the same soul. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.The difference was that Habib was magnificent; Sparkling good looks, glistening curly hair, blade-sharp green eyes; Not like the evil-looking dead hazelnuts, Which Ruh unfortunately possessed. ¡®Look out, here I come! Shout now a girl, furiously running down the stairs.¡¯ L¨¦a had something more than the others. An exceptional aura. Her hair was an unparalleled blonde! And her eyes were a pink as pure as water. Ruh gently stroked the child''s little head. ¡®How''s my little flaming head? - Yeah, fine! What are we going to do today? What are we doing today? What are we doing today? L¨¦a repeated 3 times quickly. - First of all, go and have your breakfast slowly.¡¯ Ruh pointed to the table with the food for his brother and daughter. There was milk and pastries. Lea charged towards it to destroy it all. ¡®Ruh, aren''t you going to eat any? Habib murmured. - That''s all we''ve got left, the coffee will keep me going. - What are we going to do tomorrow? - Don''t worry, the Master gave me several orders early this morning. That''ll be enough for the end of the month.'' Ruh puts his old collar back on, coughs and prepares to leave. ¡®Take care of yourself. And Lea, don''t be silly, go and play in the fields, but protect yourself from the sun, otherwise it''ll become your haunt.¡¯ Chess L¨¦a was playing quietly in the fields in front of the house. She and Habib were playing a game of chess. Her father was teaching her how to play, The role of the pieces and how to use them. The sun was blazing down, and they both wore hats to protect their heads. ¡®Daddy... There''s something I don''t understand. - What''s that, Lea? - Why can the Queen move around so much? A Queen should be protected... If I was Queen, I wouldn''t go and fight! I''d stay at home and eat strawberries! A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.- Oh,¡¯ said Habib with a chuckle. Well, people are capable of many things to defend those they love, And this Queen will do anything to protect her lover. - Like when I chase the ghost Th¨¦r¨¨se out of the house? said L¨¦a, Referring to the game she used to play when she was at home. - Y-yes, and I''m convinced that you''ll be the best queen ever, my pretty. - Really?! But this is so cool !'' In the distance, Ruh can be seen moving slowly and with difficulty; As if he were staggering. His hand over his coughing mouth, was letting out a few red droplets. The doctor behind him laid his hand warmly on his back. The poor man felt it down to the bone. L¨¦a watched the scene with concern and curiosity. ¡®What happened to Father? Habib couldn''t answer. He took his daughter''s hand and trod on the earth. ¡®Let''s go home.'' Pond It was not unusual for Ruh to come back coughing, and accompanied by a doctor. But it was unusual for him to come back bleeding. And in such a tiring way, his mouth covered with his hand. Once home, L¨¦a wondered. The days flew by. Ruh had brought plenty of food, even barley sugar; This is something L¨¦a appreciates. His mysterious comings and goings continued, and now intrigued the little girl. One day, she came to him while he was getting ready. ¡®Dad, can you take me with you wherever you go? - Ruh froze for a moment, then continued: ¡®Why don''t you like playing in the fields and at home any more? Do you need anything? - You should take her with you, Ruh, so she doesn''t worry any more, and then we could have a picnic during a break? - Oh yes! Good idea, Dad! L¨¦a shouted, before moving off. - She left without me even saying yes,¡¯ Ruh huffed. . . . If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.Faced with L¨¦a''s extreme haste, Ruh decided to follow in her footsteps, leaving Habib in charge of the dishes. He had left her a leaflet with all the advice on how to prepare the food. Father and daughter moved on until they arrived at a manor house with a pond at its entrance. The house had a beautiful architecture; Sometimes golden, sometimes crimson. The water gave contrast to this image, Like a peasant facing a page. ¡®Stay here L¨¦a, it won''t take long. This is where I work, for our governor, the good one. - All right, hoho! Don''t hang around too long! If Habib arrives I''ll eat everything Before you get back!¡¯ The door opened and Ruh disappeared. L¨¦a takes the opportunity to soak her little feet in the pond. She even took the opportunity to play with it a bit, since Ruh would be back in time. And two tall men with the distinctive look and costume of the plebs appeared. ¡®She''s so cute! said one warmly. - Let''s stay with her for a while before going to see the governor!'' One of them took out a plastic duck from his belongings and placed it in the blessed woman''s hands. The second gave her a cold drink to keep her cool in the heat. ¡®What''s your name, little one?'' Bright Habib would prepare a meal for the family. He would mix chickpea flour, with water and 2-3 eggs. He spiced the preparation in his own way. Gently with a little salt from a new bag. The house was silent, there wasn''t a sound, apart from the sound of the whisk scraping up the meal. L¨¦a hated spices, so Habib didn''t add any. He placed the dish in the oven and prepared the bread. Compared to what you might think, This is mainly eaten as a sandwich, which makes it an easy meal to transport. As he cooks, he prepares himself and looks at his complexion; The soft darkness of his beautiful skin, His young musculature, It''s clear that Habib had an artistic body. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. The very quintessence of nature. The food is ready, he makes sandwiches, Gets the drinks, And rushes out. . . . . Ruh advanced through the manor, until he reached a tall man. He was dressed in the red, black and gold noble garb of Tarshkilian high society. In short, he was the Governor of MarcheRoi. And he greeted Ruh by dipping his hand in hers. ¡®How do you feel, my friend? - The pain is gone, Master Raphy. - Good, know that the nobility is greatly indebted to you. Ruh leaves a silence, showing his nonchalance at this information. Come on, be proud! You know that in this world, when you devour the heart of an animal, you get its powers? It''s an undeniable fact. - Of course it is. - And you also know that by doing so you can expose yourself to their twisted diseases? - Of course I do. - And that''s where you come in, Ruh! Your shots and poisons injected into you create these vaccines! Vaccines that prevent these supermen from dying; what you''re doing isn''t in vain. You can be proud, Ruh.¡¯ Ruh doesn''t answer. He walks wearily across the big red carpet, chandeliers shining. Towards the whitish, secret room at the back; Where the pest-doctor and the little jesters are holed up; Ready to tell Tarshkila how the day''s operation went at MarcheRoi. He sits down, exhausted, and sighs. If it weren''t for his poverty, he wouldn''t have undergone this harsh ordeal. If he wasn''t subject to this law. If only he could break his chains for a moment. He could afford to feel the hunger tearing at his guts for a thousand years; But he couldn''t even imagine it touching his child. So for that, he sacrificed his sweet health, Administered poisons and delayed death, So that a younger generation wouldn''t miss out. The light from the lamps blazes into his eyes. A bright, thorny flash. In this life, dreams don''t exist. You fight until you''re tired of it. And you end up either victorious or gone. ¡®Go on, I''m ready. Ruh sighed one last time. Faintness The needle penetrating the flesh. Feeling the integration of the foreign body. All those uneasy sensations rising up, The rush of blood; the feeling of unease. Weakened and weakened. Down and out. The rising pain, The torpor that sets in. As if tiny mouths were nibbling at it from the inside and laying Their pale eggs. Even if the memory of Lea overcame the pain, Crushed the terror; The flame in her eyes vascillates. Animal observed by so many, Those who laugh and those who write, All the more foul; Under the worried gaze of the governor. The minutes tick by, soon to be the end of the 11th hour. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.Red blood cells leaving nostrils and ears, Made Ruh like a fountain. His face downcast from the battle he was waging, Had a sepulchral, mortal look. Dong, it''s over. Ruh is left to rest. We check his condition and take care of him. Any change in his physical or mental state must be noted as soon as possible. Once the observation time is over, that''s enough for today. The peasant is given a gold purse as pay. He rises slowly. Slowly approaches the door. Had Habib reached his destination? Had he had time to reach L¨¦a? Or should they wait for him? It doesn''t matter, because beyond all that, She and he remain his sweethearts. Water If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Shine This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Throat The other citizens of a village not far From Marcheroi were alarmed. Habib had banged his fist, to Rafy the governor about the tragedy that was about to befall his brother. While the doctors were treating him, Marcheroi''s prodigy tried To stop him ending up in prayers. But to no avail. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The news of Ruh''s arrest had made the rounds The region by many roads. Those of the plebs feel a hunger that gnaws at them, A national sadness that goes right up to the trunk. . . . . . ¡®He refused all my proposals, Ruh. - Leave it, O brother. Prepare to remake your life. In 3 days I will be no more. If only bitterness binds you To your past, break it with a distorted blade. And sew up your new future. A future where neither I nor our daughter will be.¡¯ . . . . . In the night, a hooded man Comes out of the two brothers'' house. Dressed in a toga as black as the darkness. He advances at a deathly pace. But tell me this, What''s he doing strolling like that? If not towards Rafy''s roof? He infiltrates through the window by shifting his weight. He crosses in silence, Corridors, rooms in a dance From which all sound was absent. He reaches the bed of the sleeping governor. A blade pressed against his throat. Iron fist If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡® Fire This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. And Facing the world ? Vite ! Cherchez de l''eau ! C''est terrible ce qui se passe ! ? Un cavalier criait ceci ¨¤ ses deux autres coll¨¨gues. ? Qu''y-a-t-il , enfin L¨¦andre, c''est quoi cette t¨ºte de d¨¨gue ? - La famille Rafy vient de p¨¦rir ! Ils sont morts en masses ! - Quoi ?! - Un incendie est en train de ronger leur maison jusqu''au toit ! Le Gouverneur et ses deux enfants sont morts ! ? Habib s''¨¦tait extirp¨¦ non pas sans tort. La maison s''¨¦tait ¨¦cras¨¦e sur elle-m¨ºme, Emportant adultes, enfants et servants p¨ºle-m¨ºle. Les petits os innocents se brisaient sous le bois ; Au m¨ºme titre que ceux du batard avide de lois. . . . Le lendemain. Le tueur de gouverneur s''¨¦tait assis sur le bois fumant de la demeure calcin¨¦e. Tenant fermement une machette dans sa main. Il cri pour que sa voix soit port¨¦e. ? ? Peuple de Marcheroi ! ? Peuple de Marcheroi ! Femmes ! Hommes ! Cachez vos enfants ! Et venez ¨¦couter l''annonce d''un ¨¦v¨¦nement imminent ! ? Le village commence ¨¤ se rassembler autour de Habib, qui portait toujours sa tenue sombre, Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.Que le soleil punissait de sa chaleur, l''accamblant en trombe. ? Cela est... Disons que c''est d¨¦plac¨¦, de se poser ainsi sur des corps, fit une femme ¨¤ la chevelure bleue. - Je suis celui qui a tu¨¦ Rafy et les siens. Mes mains lui ont arrach¨¦ l''ame et je ne le regrette m¨ºme pas un peu. ? Les regards se figent. ? J''ai tu¨¦ notre Gouverneur, car il voulait nous arracher Ruh ! N''est-ce pas lui par le pass¨¦ qui a sacrifi¨¦ sa sant¨¦ pour que ce village gagne en richesses ? Vous le savez, et on ne peut jeter notre h¨¦ros comme une vulgaire pourriture en ignorant sa d¨¦tresse. Avez-vous remarqu¨¦ ? Plus aucun soldat n''est dans le village. La poign¨¦e qui devait nous prot¨¦ger, Est parti vers le groupe qui compte arr¨ºter mon fr¨¨re, pour s''y r¨¦fugier. Et vous savez ce qui se passera quand ils apprendront la nouvelle ? Ils an¨¦antiront Marcheroi pour en faire un exemple, que vous me livrez ou non. Ils toucheront vos femmes et tueront vos fils sous vos yeux sans pouvoir m¨ºme ¨ºtre rebelle. Vos filles deviendront esclaves, et croyez-moi que vous voulez pas que je d¨¦tails leurs putains de conditions dans lesquelles elles seront ! Allez-vous vous laisser faire, ? peuple de Marcheroi ? Allez-vous laisser l''Injustice et la Corruption ¨ºtre rois ? La soumission ¨¤ des ¨ºtres qui vous ex¨¨crent ? Qui ne vous accordent aucune voix ? Ou bien vous attendez que ?a soit la p¨¨gre, Qui vienne nous arracher ce qui nous reste ? Notre Honneur, Notre Dignit¨¦ et Notre Fiert¨¦, Sont-ils des amuses-bouches ¨¤ vos yeux de paysans ext¨¦nu¨¦s ? L¨¨ve-toi, Marcheroi ! L¨¨ve-toi, Marcheroi ! Nous ne p¨¦rirons pas de la main de quiconque ! Nous ne seront pas un exemple d''asservissement ! Que nous r¨¦sistons jusqu''¨¤ notre tombe ! Que nos ennemis finissent d¨¦ments ! Car ils vont go?ter ¨¤ notre plomb ! MarcheRoi ! Ou plut?t le village qui se dresse face au Monde ! ? armature Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Twist This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Windows A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Dear ? Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Artanne Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Explosive Entrance The outpost was 5 kilometers away. As night fell, the Walkers stopped to review their plans. "Ruh told us to beware of these mounds. There could be traps here, like quicksand. -Blah blah blah, look at them, they''re freaking out over nothing, Artanne yelled. Guys, I''m taking charge of this battle. * Are you kidding me?! * Oh no, man!" The former governor mounted his horse and raised the army. "It''s simple, the last one to arrive, I''ll hang his mother! And the first one to die is the biggest coward!" At these words, Artanne bolted forward. Approaching the enemy outpost, he threw a dozen sticks of dynamite. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "I''m going to show you an explosive entrance!" They exploded in a macabre spectacle, As if death had spread. The black horse and the dark Artanne were camouflaged. He pulled out two long scythes connected by a metal and marble alloy. The steed crushed the soldiers guarding the entrance. Artanne kicked down the door. "Let''s turn up the heat! Come on, come on! I''m going to humiliate you so hard That even your mother will laugh at your death! Artanne the cannibal won''t go easy on you!" The warriors descended in droves, Begging the former governor to stop his madness. But he didn''t listen and charged forward. He sank his teeth into one man''s throat and ripped out a live vein. He sprayed the others with blood, blinded them, Took his two scythes and spun them around. He stepped on the head of the first victim, pressing down hard. "I present to you, Bite and Chew, dear pawns, You truly won''t have a burial with these." To call what followed a massacre would be to beautify the act. The savagery with which Artanne exterminated all those brains was worthy of the most horrible beast. Eyes, tongue, teeth, heart, lungs, stomach, intestines. The entire ground floor, repainted in a bloody and dirty red. And the light went out. Laetitia watched from afar. "Habib, the festivities have begun. * He''s drawing all the attention to himself and the arriving regiment. Let''s bypass them like last time when we dominated." The screams, the clash of metal, and the sound of alarm trumpets rocked this new battle. The outpost was protected by a wall that surrounded it, Of course, but when the enemy''s chief sergeant saw Artanne on it, What did he think? He planted a black flag and laughed. "Come on, come on, come on! The gates are open today! My Bambinos and Bambinas, I want nothing left here By the end of the night!" This unpredictable assault, perpetrated by the indefinable Artanne, had allowed the Walkers an easy advance. Amok A cannonball explodes one of the outpost walls. Three soldiers died because of it. Artanne can be seen appearing through the hole, looking more irritated than gentle. "Guys, they were mine! I''m hungry, I still have an appetite!" The shooters saw their leader gesturing with his hands between the bodies and themselves to complain. They burst out laughing and encouraged the unpredictable one to continue. A grand staircase stands before him. " On the upper floor is the chief sergeant, huh? ? Oh ho, this guy is finished. " Artanne leaves his thoughts and climbs serenely. His opponent was well prepared.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. With heavy armor and a huge steel hammer. The indefinable one whistles with a big smile. "Gosh, is that you, Calicl¨¨s? * Artanne... Look at what you''ve become. * Hmmm? * Doomed to be the victim of your own madness, Orchestrated by impossible dreams of grandeur. I am the first rampart of Archal. And you shall not pass. * But wasn''t your girlfriend leaving you because you were too fat?" Calicl¨¨s fumes and charges straight at Artanne. The violence of his first hammer blow shakes the entire structure like an electric shock. But anger had gotten the better of his precision. He missed and was vulnerable. "Oh no! She left you to come to me!" He tries to cut his throat, But the sergeant rolls on the ground and gets up in less than three seconds. "I know you, Artanne." The designated one was panting, smiling, and drooling. "You''re nothing special. You''re just sick. Yes, you''re one of those Amoks as they call them. On the battlefield, you parade, And avoid fighting with your allies So that your murderous madness doesn''t tear them apart without mercy. But this armor will wear you out. And your crushed head will delight me." Artanne throws one of his scythes which digs into the iron skin. He pulls on the chain connecting his two weapons to propel himself towards Calicl¨¨s. The latter raises his hammer to easily strike down his target, Hand in pocket, Lit dynamite close, Ready to explode, In the gap caused by Croque, Quick kick to get free, Biting his lips. Artanne begins to dance And it explodes. While he''s fully into his revisited salsa. "T¨² y yo a la fiesta T¨² y yo-oh-oh, toda la noche yo yo allez ! T¨² y yo a la fiesta T¨² y yo-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh Bailando, bailando Amigos adi¨®s, adi¨®s, el silencio loco Calicl¨¨s el nullos-os-yo !*" An audience would have applauded him, But it''s his opponent who congratulates him, By hitting him with a surprise hammer blow, With immense force. French Kiss ? Smoke billows. Calicl¨¨s and Artanne are locked in a one-sided recital. The dark governor, on the defensive physically, is overwhelmed by the sergeant who leaves him no respite. Whenever the Walker slips to one side, the hammer comes down on the other. A tremendous crash. When the sergeant covers one half [of the arena], The madman''s scythes wreak havoc on the other. An opening is created, let''s use it. Artanne spins before planting his blades against the broken armor. But Calicl¨¨s'' reflexes surpass him. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. He anchors his hammer to block the fleeting scythes. The trap closes. "You''re finished, Artanne! I''m going to make your face even uglier!" A small smile appears on the Amok''s face, Yes, he''s mocking. "Honey, do you know the French Kiss?" In one motion, He lifts Calicl¨¨s'' helmet. He places his fangs on the flesh around his lips, On his smooth skin. He bites it all and removes it with ease. His blood spurts. A look of terror. But his time has not yet come. Here, in the middle of a closed stone arena, In the heart of a tumultuous night, Artanne sweeps the sergeant away with a furious movement, Calicl¨¨s has fallen. Bubbles of blood have flown. The mucous membranes are open. His gaze fixes on the ceiling. Artanne''s foot repeatedly crushes his enemy''s exposed face. Red, liquid strands stick to it and mark his brown sole. "If he doesn''t move, he''s going to end up eating his teeth, the idiot!" The back door opens quickly. Laetitia and Habib had just arrived. The fight was already over. "Well... Was the capture a success?" one of them said softly. Blur Artanne, Laetitia, and Habib had rejoined the camp. The madman was holding his stomach because of a few small wounds. "That little rascal was annoying," Artanne mumbled. "For pity''s sake, Artanne," Laetitia sighed wearily. There were no more cannons, and some of the men were missing. "What happened?" Habib asked, "Our battle is over, isn''t it?" "Your brother, he said we had to keep the element of surprise. He left for the second outpost right away." "The idiot! What''s he playing at? Does he want to put us in the wrong?" His brother yelled. That wasn''t the plan for him to leave with our mens! "The bastard! He wants to get all the kills! Ruh only thinks of himself!" [...] If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.Sorry, O Brother, I see you''re burning with passion, But I''m only thinking about the one who brightened my darkest days. We come from the same land, Today you''re in love with one, And you forget the other, Who is nevertheless doomed to have your image engraved since her silent tomb. Since when have we become so different when we were just poor? Is it since you''ve had an army in your hands? Tonight I''m leading my own assault. Because I feel it deep in my bones. My time is running out and I''ll soon be in the linen. "Chief Ruh, target in sight, what do we do?" "I only brought woodcutters with me. Do you see that small palm forest? Divide yourselves into three groups. The first one cuts the wood. The second one shapes it into terrifying projectiles. The third one places them in the cannons and aims at the load-bearing walls of this little castle. The shot will set the wood on fire, we''ll spread the fire in this outpost and corner the enemy." The shots ring out. The element of surprise is unstoppable. I feel it, deep within me. Like an evil that devours and ravages. My movements are hard as if I had a lot of weight, My breath is like it''s trapped in a putrid cage. My legs struggle to stand, Like Sisyphus unable to push this rock any further, The end of my ascent is near. I can at least admire the seeds of my vengeance for L¨¦a, a carnage that seems blurry to me. Messager The building is collapsing on its foundations. The fire illuminates the night, like a light in the darkness of depravity. "May they perish or flee, none shall escape my punishment," said Ruh, watching the enormous blaze. He had annihilated the second outpost with immense extravagance. The smell of burning flesh spread like a trend. Suddenly, Habib burst in and grabbed his brother. Dead eyes met those overflowing with vitality. "What are you playing at? Do you want to make us lose?" "Then look at the defeat I''ve brought you." The fire rose like a tower, The Walkers began to praise this action, Artanne''s blood raced. He trembled with excitement. "He really showed them what we''re made of!" Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original."Habib, I must admit your brother did a good job," said Laetitia. While they were exclaiming like buffoons, A man with a long white cape like a soul, And with a blue T motif, Came towards the group. "Those were two beautiful breakthroughs. Very good organization benefits your troop. Thus, Marquis Archal congratulates you. And offers you two options: Join the Great Army of Tarshkila. Or turn back, weary. Know that if you accept, you will obtain, All the lands you have captured. And Marquis Archal will make you, Habib, a favorite to become Marquis of Tarshkila. And what a good offer that is." Habib rejoices, he and his people could be ennobled! Better yet, he would get a large part of the Tarshkilian lands! And his marriage to Laetitia would happen very soon! Happiness would be theirs! The Messenger gently extends his hand to Habib. The chief slowly raises his to join it with the other. However, a question remains and jolts his soul. How could Archal have been more reactive than the two vanguards combined? For this messenger to be here, he must have been sent before nightfall. But the thirst for power growls like a monster. The two hands join and their gazes plunge. Black Five knife wounds Tear the messenger''s face His eye is gouged out, His throat opens like a waterfall without a boat; But rather a red puddle with clots. He collapses like a worldly building. He struggles to move his lips, but a weak word comes out. "... Damn..." Habib furiously grabs the weak, wrongly murderous hand. "Go to hell, you bastard! We were going to be rich and full! * Did you sell your daughter for gold? Did you really do that, Habib? I don''t recognize you anymore! * We could have changed things from the inside with our convictions! * Pfft, we only get exhaustion and betrayal from the nobles. Frankly, if that''s how you''re going to end up, why did you follow me that day? * You''re serious, Ruh, how can you say that to me!" Habib''s second hand rests on his brother''s shoulder. "Enough!" Laetitia yells, "You''re not going to betray each other?! Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. * Yes! Let me go! To think we were from the same roof... Habib... You disappoint me greatly, Like the butterfly that has faith In the light that will slowly kill it." Ruh tries to free his weak hand, His body is almost skin and bones, He is as gray as death that comes early, A one-sided struggle breaks out within them. Two brothers tearing each other apart, One for the love of his daughter, The other for an easier life. "Habib, I''m your older brother so listen! Get out of the way and let me finish my fight!" Ruh pulls, Pulls, Pulls. His hand tears, Tears, Tears. He lets out a cry of agony and savagely throws himself around. A mixture of putrefied blood and pus flows viscously from his arm. Ruh''s screams echo throughout the outpost as much as the spread of his blood. He feels an even more voracious pain running through his veins like an ungrateful worm. "My arm! My arm!" Ruh cries out in despair. He is alone with his suffering as the only king. He begins to cry helplessly. No one sympathizes, they all watch him... Such is the indifference of people. Such is the indifference of people. Indeed, we are all a potential Ruh. He falls on the sand. Black. Right Flank No one is there, No one is there, so I bask, In a dark space And I camouflage myself in the shadows. No one is there, No one is there, so I imagine myself face to face. A bruised face As if time had struck like autumn leaves, A human life yet full of hormones, And behold, my wrinkles Stretch my skin that I have never known otherwise than in this way. Today, here you are alone, a pariah. So I get up and walk, So I get up and walk in the middle of an empty, spotless space, An empty, spaceless cage, Where any movement seems impossible Yet I advance or at least move Noting a little more this ridiculous situation; Where everything seems outside any law. Absence of speech, Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.Of glances, Of silence, what a paradox. A place where even time seems to be lagging behind. Even today, here you are alone, unstable. I reach the end of the road, I reach the end of the road and sigh like a bovine. A small silhouette seemed to be waiting for me, What could she possibly hope for from a destitute man whom they would like to hang? She turns and walks towards me, Is it boredom that pushes her to come towards my self and her you? The darkness clears for a moment, as does my face. How can I not be surprised to see L¨¦a here, so wise? She places her hands on my cheeks and turns my head to the right side. I open my eyes on the same side, I was on the bed of one of the camp tents that had been pitched against the king. "Since your departure, here I am alone facing myself." Village He gets up with great difficulty. His arm had been bandaged. He takes a spear to help him walk. He goes out and sees Artanne dozing off, And two soldiers playing chess. "El sheikh meth*." * "Oh, I give up..." * "Tell me, where did my brother go?" * "Habib left with Laetitia and most of the army to wage war. * Without me? But is he crazy? * Look at your state, Ruh: you can''t. Artanne was injured in his last battle, Even he had to rest." The wounded man didn''t listen and went to his horse. He refused to stay here because he would lose his skin here. If he had to let go, it would be during the battle of Archal. His weak and pathetic body sits sadly on his mount. A taciturn atmosphere. He gallops. And to keep up the pace, He curls up almost into a ball. Like a poor bumpkin. Habib''s sabers cut through the enemies'' flesh. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.He soars through the air like a tightrope walker in love With a will to defeat the adversary. He lands with great grace on his brave beast. "Not bad, my beauty," Laetitia compliments. * "I return the compliment, my dear," the man says in a silly way. The horsewoman had cut through the enemy ranks like no one else, One would have thought to see a huge arrow striking with a good grip, Any soldier who got in her way. The duo had the effect of a drill, Had pierced the enemy defense and routed them. Their legs retreat and are fearful. Is it the fear of death That puts them so in the wrong? The sound of the cannons, The cannonballs exploding in waves, The marching drums And shouting their suburbs The scorching sun, The overwhelming fatigue, The dominant Walkers; Archal''s army had been led astray. "They are retreating! And their city is only a few kilometers away!" They advance, while a silhouette in the sky lands. * El sheikh meth = the king is dead an expression that will be used in chest game as "checkmate" Frictions The victors are calm, Making their war partners run, Hearts are pierced, Not by love but by the sword. Red is the only color To tint this macabre spectacle of a new era. Like a disorder of flesh, A painting of fear. The sand turns red, As he walks on it, Habib encourages his friends. "Truly, Archal has disappointed us! He sent that messenger for fear of being killed! Look now at the Walkers feasting on your city!" Shouts of Joy! Shouts of Joy! Shouts of Joy! The gates of Archal will open! No rejoicing for Tarshkila! Its defeat has been sealed here below! By this strong and cunning man, Habib! Habib! Habib! Such is the name chanted by the winners! Laetitia embraces him tenderly! This is a Victory! This is how they mark their territory! However, in the sky, a winged creature seems to be dropping something. A free fall, creative, healing for the martyrs, And which would be indescribable through any prose, A grace, beauty and indomitable sweetness, Like a sweet foam that one eats like a cloud. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.His body under the pressure of the wind, Twirling in all directions, The sound of rubbing against clothes, Like a pleasant trance, During his fall, he fixes his eyes on the sky far and wide It is with this that the page will be turned. He crashes to the ground. Smoke rises. That blue and white cape that rises. Accompanied by a blue M on the back down to the collar. His long white hair like snow, Eyes of an oceanic depth. He unfolds a huge bluish steel disc in a mischievous way, Which is connected to a spiked and atypical chain. "I, Archal, 7th Grand Marquis, Declare The Great Massacre of the Pathetic Walkers, Your journey ends here." He is quickly surrounded. But... A cold seizes the combatants, Grasping their legs, Like an army of spectral hands constraining, Terror suspends them From any movement. These are the effects of Dread. Then suddenly, one shouts; "We are the Walkers! Invincible and Indivisible! We will never lose to a single guy!" Energized, like tigers, They all pounce on him. A quick gesture, Only one gesture, not even desperate. The movement of a chain, Is enough to cut more than a hundred men into slices, The discs and spikes unleashing their rage without effort. Rain of blood in torrents. Archal grabs his weapon like a shield. Laetitia, bruised and enraged, jumps off her horse to charge him. The Marquis spreads his arms to welcome the enraged duelist, Perhaps she would be able to surprise him more than during their last eventful encounter?