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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #1234292
With options against him, a king must guide his people and family to santuary.
CHAPTER I


THE FALL OF A KINGDOM: THE RISE OF DARKNESS



NOTE: This chapter is also in my book folder as well, along with whatever changes that had to be made. This will be left "as is" just cause I feel like it.






         The Kingdom of Enerjest, a kingdom of glorious power, wealth and beauty, is in the tangled threads of war. For many months the war between the armies of the Sinister Sahara and the knights of Enerjest has been harsh. Now however the long drawn out war is coming to a close.

         But it is the kingdom that is facing defeat.

         As the last warrior fell lifeless onto the battle scared field, the leader of the Sinister Sahara army stepped forward from his troops and gave out his next order. Chain mail and iron greaves made up the armor that he wore, along with a pair of iron gauntlets on his hands. And on his head, he had a black crown with the emblem of his region; a red double diamond shaped core with six protruding leg-like things coming from it incased in a yellow sphere. He threw back his black cape with a crimson underline and spoke out. “Attention men. Our victory shall be swift and merciless. Scout the area for any stray soldiers.”

         “Yes sir, General Revil,” they all replied. With the order given, the troops moved out to ensure swift death to their enemies.

         “While I head to the castle to obtain what is rightfully mine,” Revil exclaimed to himself.

         The Kingdom of Enerjest is a prosperous kingdom of wealth, science, and education. The castle from the outside is a sight to behold. It contained marble finished walls, and its stained glass windows reflected their craftsmanship. The castle itself was built at a height of a hundred and fifty feet with four side watch towers, standing at an additional twenty-five feet, and a center one that was twice the height of the others, most likely the King’s quarters. Above the castle gate resided the nation’s flag, in all its glory. On the roof of the castle in one of the watch towers was the captain of the guard, who was observing the flow of the battle and keeping an eye out for any enemy movement. His job that he has been assigned was to watch over the people of the kingdom and give first warning of any troubles. The guard was in a full suit of iron, from head to toe, with some of his blond hair showing from under his helmet. He looks onward in the distance through a pair of binoculars by order of the king, who returned from the battlefield when asked by his men to return to the castle when the battle turned for the worst.

         “I’m relieved the king returned safely from the front. This battle’s been raging since the sun rose five days ago, and now the sun is going to set over this battle for the fifth time.” He pauses for a bit, and then continues to look onward. “The messengers from the battlefield have not returned yet, and it has been since noon that the king returned.” As he looked though his binoculars, he spotted something suspicious. “Huh? What’s this? Could it be one of our messengers?” He focuses in on the target in question. “Wait, that’s not one of our messengers.” The figure approaching the castle was General Revil. “This is not good, an enemy is approaching. I must inform his Majesty at once!” He drops his binoculars, turns, and makes his way to the staircase of the nearby watch tower leading downstairs. As he reaches the bottom step, he makes a sharp right towards the South Wing down the Royal Hallway. On each side of the hallway, there stood tall statues of soldiers in armor and swords. He reaches the throne room where the king and queen resided, but two soldiers were protecting the king and queen from anyone entering the throne room.

         “Halt! State your business!”

         “Stand down, I am your captain. I have news to report of the battle!”

         “Yes captain, at once,” both men said nervously. They stepped to the side and allowed him entry.

         “Your Majesty, your Highness, I have news of the highest importance!” he said kneeling before them with his head bowed in their presents.

         “Report, Captain Greaves!” the king ordered. Sitting on his throne, the king had a royal crown on his head and a full grown beard and moustache. He wore a royal cape of crimson and a set of light chain mail suited for a king. On his hands was a pair of light gauntlets constructed of gold.

         “I have spotted an unknown figure approaching from the west. The figure seems to be from the enemy army, possibly the enemy leader.”

         “You’re sure it is not one of our messengers from the field?” Greaves nods. “Describe this invader’s appearance for me,” the king continued.

         “Yes my king. He has chain mail and iron greaves, a black crown on his head, with the emblem that looks like a red double diamond shaped core with six protruding points incased in a yellow sphere, and a black cape with a crimson underlining.”

         The king slammed his fist onto his armrest of his throne at the description he heard. “It can’t be, Revil is coming here!” King Sarnaman rises from his throne, swiftly, yet collective. “Our men on the battlefront must have fallen. They insisted I retreat when we saw the battle taking a dark turn.” The king went silent.

         “My lord, what is your next course of action?” The king was still silent as he thought of how to save the citizens of his kingdom. After regaining focus on what must be done, the king gave his orders.

         “My love,” turning his face towards his wife. She was an innocent woman with soft skin, blue eyes, and blond hair, which she made into a small bun on the back of her head. Only a few years younger than the king, her beauty was radiant. She was in a white dress with gold trimming on the edges of it. Her shoes matched her dress, and on her ears were a pair of small diamond earrings.

         “Yes, king?” she softly replied in a delicate tongue.

         “I want you to go up into the young prince’s room and retrieve him. We are going to evacuate at once to save our kingdom and her people.”

         “At once,” she replied. She headed up a flight of stairs towards the back of the throne room and proceeded to the young prince’s room.

         As the queen prepared for her departure, as well as for the young prince, the king rose up from his throne and walked up to Greaves. “Five hundred years have passed since my ancestors began their rule over this kingdom after defeating the very same people we are fighting today.” He then says to himself, Revil, what kind of power does this man have? He then spoke directly to Greaves again. “We must hurry and send out the evacuation order throughout the kingdom to the guards on patrol,” the King ordered.

         “I shall go at once, my lord.” Greave turns around to leave when a voice was heard from out of nowhere.

         “My apologies, but if I may lend my assistances?” the voice said. From above one of the statues in the royal hallway, a mysterious figure was perched atop of it. He wore a black cloak with black pants and a pair of noble boots, which each concealed a dagger with poison tips. His entire left arm was concealed in tough, but a flexible iron armor that was able to bend to his will. He wore a black and blood red cape which mostly covers over the left side of his body, hiding his left arm when he stood up from view. Contrast to his left arm, the rest of his body was only in light leather armor. His face was serious, but at the same time pure, and had blond hair that slightly grew over his brown eyes. He jumps down from the statue and lands right next to Greaves and falls into line.

         “Thank you, Augster. Your assistance is much appreciated,” the king said in greeting him. “All right you two; we will now discuss our next course of action. We must send out the order to evacuate the civilians of our kingdom to Tranquidor as soon as possible. Gather any and every soldier available and relay this order to them. Once you have completed this task, return here to assist in our escape. Is that understood gentlemen?”

         “Yes my lord!” they both replied perfectly synchronized. They both begin to head out on the king’s orders when the king called out to Augster.

         “Augster, might I have one last word with you?”

         Augster halted his movement and turned towards the king. He walked back towards him to here his request. “What is it that you desire my lord?”

         “Augster, my loyal subject, and trusted friend, listen well to my next request.” Captain Greaves was already outside the castle walls giving out the order, so he could not hear what the king was asking of Augster in a private audience. “If anything should happen to me, I want you to protect my wife and son to your utmost ability.”

         “What are you saying? You think you’re going to meet your end here?” Augster said baffled at the thought.

         “No one is certain of their future, or what will become of it. But if worst comes to worst, I’ll feel reassured that the kingdom might have a chance to live on should we fall.” Augster looks into himself, lost in thought. “Will you do this for me?”

         Augster looks back up at the king. “My future is not certain either, my king,” Augster said using the king’s words. “I don’t know what may happen to either of us. But rest assured; as long as I have breath, I shall serve and protect them as I have to you.”

         “That is all that I needed to here,” the king said with a reassuring smile. He then dismissed Augster and he went on his way to relay the order.

         Alone in the throne room, and with the end in nigh, the king’s mind began flooding with various thoughts and possibilities. What if he really did meet his end in this place? What if his wife, the queen, was taken from him? Or even his son, the heir to the throne, was taken from him as well? He brought himself back to reason and looked to a glass case on the wall. It contained a very valuable sword that’s been in the family since King Sarnaman I. Because the swords material construction was never passed down through word of mouth or history documents, no one remembers the materials it is made out of, and it has not seen battle since King Sarnaman I. Being the eighteenth descendant of the bloodline, he treasured the sword as did the past kings. He lifts up the casing and grips the hilt of the sword in his hands. He looks at the blade and all of the possible secrets it could contain. The sword seemed to have been crafted with great blood and sweat to be crafted in such beauty. The swords hilt seemed to be made with fine rosewood lumber with an interesting finish on the cross guard; two pairs of spikes came out from the top of the cross guard. The bottom of the sword’s hilt was given a rounded bottom made out of some kind of silver, welded into the rosewood. After glancing at its mysterious beauty, he places the sword in the sheath around his belt.

         As he closed the glass case, he gazed upon the walls of the throne room looking at all of the portraits of the past kings before him. Each one of them immortalized for what they achieved and what they did to make the kingdom prosper. Seventeen generations, these kings ruled with caring and stride. He thought to himself, is this really the end. As that sentence ran through his mind, he glared at himself, for he would not give up on his people. He would uphold the glorious name of the Sarnaman family. Just then, the queen returned from upstairs with the young prince sound asleep in her arms.

         “How is he?” the king asked.

         “He’s sound asleep,” she said looking at the young prince’s sleeping face. Wrapped up in a small blanket, only his young face could be seen, innocent with black hair on his head. She looks back at the king and asks, “What do we do now?”

         “We wait for Greaves and Augster to return from delivering the order throughout the kingdom, for they are going to escort us if any danger should arise as we head to our selected safe haven.”

         As they completed their conversation, the front gates of the castle barged open. The king and queen turn towards it to see who was entering. It was Greaves and Augster returning from their assignment.

         “My king, the order has been sent. The town is being evacuated to Tranquidor as you commanded,” Greaves said in salute.

         “Good work you two,” replied the king. “Now it’s our turn to evacuate. Let’s move.” The group leaves the throne room and proceeds to exit through the castle gates. Then, all of a sudden, the sounds of swords clashing were heard from beyond the entrance of the castle. Soon after, the commotion outside went silent. The gates are broken open with force from the outside. A sword was seen cutting its way through the wooden gate. A shadowy figure appeared as the outside light leaked through the opening. It was Revil, and he had the king in his sights.

         “Greetings, king,” he greeted them with a smirk. “Leaving so soon before I have the chance to take your kingdom and your lives? I won’t let you escape like before.”

         “Revil,” asked the king. “Leave us be. The kingdom is yours, so you have no use of us.”

         “Is that so, king?” Revil says. “Unfortunately, claiming your kingdom—while my ultimate goal—is not enough to preserve my triumph over you.”

         “What else do you need?” questioned Augster.

         “Are you that blunt? If I want to preserve my victory,” Revil draws out his sword, pointing it at the king and queen. “I must kill the old king.” He gave a small sinister giggle. “You are right though, I do have no use of you.”

         “Not on my watch you won’t!” Augster bent down to his leg and pulled out a small kunai and dashed forward while close to the ground straight at Revil. He slashed out towards him, but Revil dodged the blow by jumping over the attack, and then pushed off of the back of Augster’s head with his foot, sending him to the ground. The push gave him some leverage to leap over to get behind the King, Queen, and Greaves.

         “Hmph, you should know my strength Augster. Or have you forgotten who trained you in the skills of the assassin?”

         “I haven’t forgotten, but that does not matter anymore. I serve you no more.”

         Revil made no comment to his statement. He turned towards the king and queen. The king looked back at Revil harshly. “You don’t seem to be shocked at this,” he said towards the king.

         “I was already told of his past from him, and he has been forgiven. It’s best to leave that subject dead.”

         “All right I will, but,” he draws his blade. “I’ll eliminate your loved ones before I kill you!” He rushes in with all intent on striking down his wife, the queen. Augster was still slightly stunned from the last attack he received and could not react in time. The king reached for his weapon, but had no time to intercept the blow. A clanging of metal was miraculously heard however, instead of the sound of piercing flesh, for Greaves rushed in and blocked the sword with his iron shield.

         “Forget about them, I’m your opponent now!” Greaves exclaimed towards Revil.

         Augster got to his feet and looked back at what was occurring behind him while he was stunned. He sees Greaves holding off Revil’s blade with all of his might. “Greaves, are you ok?”

         “I’m all right, Augster,” he managed to say while focusing all of his strength in preventing the blade from breaking through his defense. “Augster, do something for me, ok?”

         “What is it that you wish of me?”

         “Get the others out of here, quickly. I’ll hold him off while you make headway to the rendezvous location. Hurry, there’s no time to waste!”

         Augster turns his attention towards the king and queen, who was still holding the young prince. “My Lord, Your Highness?”

         “We should go Augster,” King Sarnaman said agreeing. “We must make headway at once.” King Sarnaman, the Queen and their son, and Augster made their way to the entrance of the castle so they could all escape. They all made it out without any conflict as Greaves was still holding Revil at bay. He pushes back Revil’s blade.

         “You think a man like you can stop me from achieving my goal?”

         “I can, and will, stop you.” Greaves brings his sword and shield into a battle stance. “I didn’t become the king’s captain just for show and loyalty. I will defeat you in his place.”

         “I hope for your sake that you support those words of yours, for they will be your last.” Revil also prepares his blade for battle. “You have no idea what my blade and I are capable of.” Revil’s blade was marvelously crafted—most likely from a master smith. Even after cutting through the gate entrance, it was as sharp as anything seen before. The sword’s hilt was well crafted, though it looked intimidating. The cross guard of the sword’s hilt was designed like small horns; two pointing out, while two more on the inner part curved inward towards the sword. Even the inner horn designs had one spike protruding out from each one pointing outward. The base of the hilt was made flat.

         From outside, storm clouds began to slowly gather in the evening sky. The two opponents braced themselves for combat and each prepared for their opponent’s first strike. Greaves proceeds to make the first move and aims his sword towards Revil’s heart with his sword. He misses as Revil evades to Greaves’ right side. Then he does a single rotation clockwise to land the hilt of his sword in the back of his head. He connects and Greaves falls to the floor, slightly stunned at the speed of his movements. His helmet absorbed some of the blow, so he only suffered the slightest concussion. Revil then jumps up and starts to head towards the guard, still face first on the floor. He prepares to bring his sword down upon him, but the guard rolls just in time to get his shield in position to block the attack. Greaves brings his blade low to the ground in a swinging arc to strike Revil’s legs. Revil easily avoids the blade with little effort. But he didn’t realize that Greaves was expecting him to avoid it, and as Greaves’ blade past under, he got his body up while still rotating, and aimed his shield towards Revil’s now airborne self. He goes flying into the wall and makes impact with it enough to crack the stone structure. Revil fell to the ground with his back sitting against the wall. From Greaves’ perspective, it looked like he took him down with no problem. As he walked towards Revil to finish him off, Revil regained consciousness in extreme rage.

         Greaves was amazed that he regained consciousness after an impact after one like that, but in that split second of thought, Revil swiftly made a mad dash with his blade in hand. Greaves parries the attack and proceeds to counter attack, putting all of his effort into his blade to run him through. Revil played him like a matador and drove him to miss and drive his blade into the wall behind him. Greaves struggled in trying to get his sword out of the wall, but it was really in there deep. Seeing his chance, Revil started to have a dark hue emerge around him. The dark aura then shifted into his right fist and proceeded up into his blade. Then with pure intent on dealing death, he delivered a harsh blow to the guard to his back. Greaves tried to place his shield in between him and the attack, but the force was too great and the attack shot him through the wall, through the dining hall, and finally landing outside the castle walls in the royal garden. The guard lay there stunned from the blow, laying face first into the now ruined flower bed of the castle garden.

         “That was close. If I was one second more hesitant on bringing up my shield,” Greaves said to himself muffled. “That attack would have finished me for sure.” He rolled himself over to face in the direction he came from. “Despite blocking that blow, it’s amazing I’m still breathing from the impact itself through the castle walls. I thank his Majesty for this armor he has made, though that did knock some breath out of me.” The impacts through the walls left him bleeding from his forehead. His thoughts stopped for something caught his attention.

         From the clouded rubble, Revil stepped out from the castle interior towards Greaves. “You got me pretty good in there, but now you will experience true pain and fear.” He said in his evil, confident tone, all while having a slight smirk of seeing his power at work. As he walked forward, Greaves struggled to at least get into a defensive position. Revil then formed a small black flame into his left hand and shot it towards Greaves. He quickened his struggle with all the strength he could muster to brace for the attack, and was able to deflect it off the edge of his shield, just missing him by inches. Revil was slightly impressed at his will power to live and fight to protect his kingdom. After a few moments, he was back up on his feet, ready to take him on, or die trying.

         “I am truly amazed that you survived my tactics for this long”, Revil said with slight anger. Then his anger grew as he finished speaking. “But now it’s time to end this, and time for you to think of how your next life is going to be once I end this one.” His voice got furious and his body was building an even greater dark aura around him. “Now I’ll take you to your maker!” With that said, he gathered his rage into his right hand again, following it up into his blade once more. His eyes flared with fury and he swung his blade upward and swung it down to the ground, releasing a dark blade wave. The bottom part of this wave cut through the ground, carving a straight, perfect line that was several inches deep. As it traveled towards its target, Greaves’ eyes filled with terror. He managed to force his body to dodge out of the way, but that attack was just a diversion, for distracted, he didn’t notice that Revil got around him until it was too late. Revil brought his blade down hard upon him and sliced through Greaves’ left arm, severing it from the shoulder joint.

         Greaves dropped to his knees as he screamed in pain at the loss of his arm. Lightning and thunder made their entrance as the storm clouds let out a downpour onto the battlefield. He dropped his sword to grip his now missing arm segment, which was bleeding immensely. The blood began to stain the earth and the rainfall made it seem like it was becoming a tiny blood lake in the ground. As he lay on his knees in the now moist dirt moaning in pain, Revil walked towards him and comments on the weather. “This setting seems fit for your demise, don’t you think? It’s just the mood that I am looking for in this bout. A dark night: a dark end. Now you will return from whence you came.” Greaves was still on the ground in pain as the blood from the wound was staining the ground. He tried to fight the pain and reach for his sword with his right hand, which was his only hand he had left. His hand, from holding his wound, was soaked in blood and took on the color of it. He almost got to it when Revil kneeled down and got the sword. He stood back up with the sword in hand, tossed it up in the air, and shattered it with his own blade.

         “Your first, and last, mistake was thinking you could stop me.” Revil brought his blade back, preparing to strike. “Remember that when you breath your last breath.”

         Greaves saw that he had little time to lose as Revil attacked, so he rolled out of the way, just missing the sword’s tip, and grabbed a glob of mud and threw it at Revil’s eyes. He staggered as he tried to regain his sight, while Greaves tried to bring him down one last time. He used all of the energy that he could muster to do a punch right below his diaphragm. The punch connects and Revil falls on his knees, grabbing his stomach in pain and at loss of breath as well. He became furious with rage while trying to maintain the excruciating pain. Greaves staggered to his feet and started to drag himself away to safety. His lost arm was still bleeding, and his vision was starting to get hazy from the blood loss, but he still treaded onward to get away.

         “You won’t get away with such a cheap tactic and live you slug,” Revil said, regaining his breath. “I’ll make sure that’s the last thing you ever do.” He got to his feet and called forth the same dark aura around him from before, but it was more intense than before. Without even moving, he sent the dark energy towards Greaves as he was trying to escape, which moved at an amazing speed, almost separating the air around it. He turned his head to see what the sound of slicing through air was, and was shocked at the attack heading his way. The dark energy caught up to him and encircled him in what seemed to be a radius of nine yards. With just a raise of his hand, Revil conjured a bunch of dark spears to thrust out from the dark energy and impaled Greaves as all of them made contact simultaneously. The guard hits the ground and laid there on the muddy ground, losing conciseness.

         Revil walks up to Greaves to inspect his damage upon him. “Damn, that punch you threw before weakened me quite a bit and I couldn’t summon my full power.” He then heard greaves let out a groan. “What? Damn you! You’re still alive, and after an attack like that!” Revil’s breath was getting heavy now. “I don’t even have the strength left to run you through completely, but I know of one way to finish you that should be just as affective.” Greaves was unable to react or respond as Revil grabbed him by the throat. “I’ll send you to your death over that cliff over there.” He makes his way several paces eastward past the castle and finds the cliff. He looks down it to see it was indeed very high up as mist hid the ground from view. He looks back at the slightly unconscious Greaves. “Don’t fear the approach of death, I’ll make sure the rest of the Royal Family joins you soon enough.” With that said, he releases his hold on Greaves as he his tossed over into the mist below.

         Revil, now finished with his minor obstacle, was thinking on how to get the king and company. He would have to recover some before he could fight effectively, but if the king escaped to his rendezvous point, he would have time to regroup and take down Revil and his men. He had to strike now, but the battle, to the king’s benefit, gave him a lot of ground covered due to the length of Revil’s battle with Greaves. Just then, he heard someone approaching. He looks towards the front gate of the castle walls and sees a huge figure on a horse heading his way, with a few men following him as fast as they could on foot. The figure calls out to Revil.

         “My lord did something happen to you?” the figure asked. A better view shows that the figure on horseback was a male of about early thirties, armed well with a tough breastplate of a red shade. He didn’t wear a helmet, revealing his face to be brutish, but not bad looking. He had green eyes, no facial hair, and most likely shaves. He had big, but trimmed eyebrows, and his hair was black and slightly untamed. He was a big man, but in body size, for his body was well honed and fit. One reason could be his main weapon on his back: a great axe, double bladed, of silver coloring with gold trim on the end of the blades. From his sitting position, it was hard to tell if he used two hands, or had the will power to wield it with one hand.

         “Nothing of real circumstance, General Gorno”, Revil replied. He turns towards the cliff’s edge. “Just a minor setback in my plans, nothing more.”

         “Where’s the king of the kingdom gone?”

         “They were given time to escape while one of their men fought me. Despite his attempt at stopping me, he did hold out for a while.” Revil was growing inner fury at the possibility of King Sarnaman escaping his grasp, for if the king lives, the kingdom cannot become his. “They must be getting close to their rendezvous point by now.”

         “Where is that, Lord Revil sir?” Gorno questioned.

         “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be wondering on where it is, fool!” From the look in his eyes, it seemed he would take out his own men to release his anger. At that instant, it looked like an idea popped in his head and he turned towards Gorno’s horse. He calmed down first as to not intimidate his own men. “General Gorno, I am in need of your horse at once.”

         Gorno was a little surprised for the sudden request, but he quickly jumped off of his steed at his demand. On the ground, he tugs on the leather strap of the horse to bring him closer to Revil. Revil grabs hold of the strap and climbs onto the saddle. “General Gorno, you brought reinforcements as planned, correct?

         “At your request, my lord,” Gorno bowed humbly. A dust storm in the Sinister Sahara cut some of us off, causing this delay you see, but a good number of us got through as you can see.” He turns his attention slightly to his right. “And also, they got here as well sir.”

         Revil looks at the men in question. “Ah yes, the Venom Viper: my group of elites.” He looks around a bit. “Any more horses for them around?”

         “My apologies sir,” Gorno said in displeasure. “But as you recall, that horse is the only one we have, as I brought it with me when I recruited into your army. There exist no mountable animals in that environment. And I don’t hear, nor see, any here my lord.”

         “Hmph, so be it, Revil said, letting it go. “All right, now listen! My Venom Viper force, I’m going on ahead to catch the king. Keep up as fast as you can, for I cannot let them gain anymore ground.” The group saluted in understanding his command.

         “But Lord Revil,” Gorno said in concern. “I thought you didn’t know where the rendezvous point was. And forgive my questioning, but you don’t seem fit for combat against the king.”

         “Don’t worry about my health, General Gorno,” he replied with a smirk. “I should be able to recover a little while riding before I confront him. As for where he is, no, I still don’t know where the rendezvous point is, but I have a good suspicion he’s heading south. Nothing exists north of her; a cliff goes off to the east; and our home is to the west in the Sinister Sahara. It’s just logical.” With that said he pulled on the leather strap and snapped it to command the horse to run forward south. In a cloud of dust, he was gone out of Gorno’s sight.

         “I will get you King Sarnaman.,” Revil said to himself in his head. “Your kingdom will be mine. And when I get you, I’ll make sure your death is absolute.” Dark crows started to fly around him as he speeded across the plains, coming and going a few times while letting out their cries along side him. The storm was still strong as thunder and lightning ravaged across the sky. One random crow decided to attack Revil. He drew his blade and sliced it in half with great speed and precision. The other wandering crows reacted to his actions with loud screeches and flew away. “It appears I’ve recovered a bit thanks to resting while on horseback.” He didn’t let out a smirk of satisfaction as he said that, for he couldn’t take it for granted. “I have to have enough strength to kill King Sarnaman.” He whips the horse again and in reaction, speeds faster down to where the king should be. He was racing through the now damp field and trounced puddles without a flinch of either him or the horse. Then, he noticed something on the ground for an instant. “Aha! Now I got you. Your reign is over!”


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