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"Citizens of Soden, I, Imogen Linchpin, Head of the King's Council stand here tonight to speak on behalf of our beloved King Longdon Egbert XIII. Unfortunately, because of some sudden change in his physical condition, he won't be able to join us," a man in a purple robe said. He stood behind a golden pulpit, carrying a scroll.
Alarmed, the crowd stirred.
Imogen, whose hair was long, curly, and blond, raised both of his hands. Silence and order followed.
"But there's nothing to worry about as the King is under the care of Soden's best doctors," Imogen said. "So let me present to you these three fools! For years they've terrorized the innocent and plagued our Kingdom!"
Raging flames from the torches painted the crowd with red as their faces scowled with hatred.
"Their fate is now in my hands," Imogen said. He then nodded his head to a man in a brown robe with a giant silver ax resting on his shoulder.
The executioner removed the cover of the one in a tattered shirt. With black and jagged teeth, the prisoner maniacally grinned like an unleashed beast. His unkempt hair and beard were long like a black lion's mane.
Everyone in the crowd, especially the women and children, gasped upon seeing his monstrous face.
"Doug the Savage!" Imogen said. "This monster is guilty of abducting children and removing their innards. There are even rumors that he feasts on their organs. It was not until yesterday that our knights, led by Lady Luv Sranger, caught him hiding in the sewers-"
"You beast! You murdered my child! Come here, and I'll smash that-" A man from the crowd charged through the thicket of knights, but they quickly subdued him.
Meanwhile, Doug howled in laughter. "Oh, I remember your daughter, old man. She was delicious!"
"Shut him!" Imogen said. The executioner used the b.u.t.t of his weapon and pommeled it on Doug's head.
Doug growled before spitting blood. "Was that your best shot? When I'm out of here, I'll eat your fam-" The executioner stomped on his head, driving it to the marble floor and silencing him at last.
Imogen continued. "The last two are infamous thieves from Bunya! Hiding in shadows, they pretended to be friends of men. However, today they're finally caught by Lady Leva Seraphim and Lord Floyd Stark."
The executioner removed the cover of the remaining two prisoners.
"The long-lost Bunya's King of Thieves, Igur Ramshackle, and his foolish apprentice, Vance Valfern! The King's Council had deemed these two as guilty for stealing an artifact belonging to Soden from the mansion of the Misfeet Family."
There was silence from the crowd. Igur in his old age—gray hair and wrinkled skin—faced them with brown eyes full of dignity.
Meanwhile, Valfern in his spiky black hair with a tinge of orange like embers was sullen. Without water and food for the past few hours, his vision blurred. He stared at the twisted faces of ridicule and detest as they jeered at him.
"An old man like you deserves to die! Get lost!" someone from the crowd said. A tomato flew out and hit Igur's left eye. The pebbles followed.
A rough stone, the size and shape of a thumb, reached Igur. It grazed his temple before Valfern, whose chains tightly tied his hands, could stand up and shield him with the back of his body.
"Vance, protect yourself. You still have a long way to go, kid. Stop wasting your life for an old boy like me," Igur said. Undisturbed by the chaos and the blood dripping from his forehead, he closed his eyes like in perfect peace. "Let them be."
Valfern gritted his teeth. "Hey, Imogen! Do something!"
The crowd was in chaos, but the knights stood in their position, pretending as if nothing happened. They only raised their shields to defend themselves.
After a minute or two of violence, Imogen, shielded by two knights, raised his hands again, only then that the crowd stopped. "I understand the rage in your hearts, beloved citizens, but we're better than these beasts," he said, unfurling the scroll. "Tonight would have been the death of these three, but through the council's wisdom, we have decided that it would be an easy escape for them. So, we have enlisted them in Soden's first-ever tournament of death! The event will begin tomorrow at noon, joined by other criminals, and those who just want to hunt these beasts or earn the King's favor."
An uproar followed. The crowd cheered like they've won a war.
"Drag them to their prison cells," Imogen said as he strolled back to the palace.
Valfern's eyes widened, and his heart raced. He previously lived without fear of death, but the story changed as he stared at the helpless old man beside him, who still knelt in silence. "Imogen! You heartless b.a.s.t.a.r.d! Can't you see that this man won't be able to fight for himself?"
Imogen paused. "Your deaths will be for our entertainment. That's the only gift you could offer to this Kingdom."
Valfern's lips curled, and his blood boiled. He stood up and prepared to charge, but the b.u.t.t of the executioner's ax pinned him on the floor. Before he could protest, his vision darkened again.
...
Chains dangled, and after a series of long steps, the temperature dropped. Someone kicked Valfern on his back, and he fell face-first on a damp floor. His sight then returned as someone finally took off his cover.
Valfern's vision blurred. The looming man before him was nothing but a distorted image.
"For many years, you made fun of me! Now, look! Who's got the last laugh, huh?" The man's round belly bounced as he cracked in laughter. His voice buzzed like a cacophony of whispers.
Valfern's senses returned after a slap on his face. His left cheek seared with pain, and the figure before him finally cleared. "Rigert."