The people of Aragon were all enraged; they were angry at Silva with all their hearts. But what Silva said made sense—their king was the one who sent their people to die in the war.
The king was the one who gave the order they followed, and now that they were being captured by the enemy, he didn’t want to free them.
What could Silva ask for that was greater than the lives of all their men? They couldn’t think of one thing. Even if it was the head of the king that was asked for, he should submit it to atone for his sins.
This was what was going through the minds of everyone in the capital now. They had to do something.
This unanimous thought sparked the fire for a riot. People, young and old, flocked to the castle. They took stones and sticks, swords and farming tools.
Adventurers and commoners alike, mercenaries and merchants—every soul that lived in the capital rushed to the castle.
They threw away all regard for law and order. Their king had decided that their lives were worthless, so today they would make him see that they had the strength to change things as well.
The royal guards and knights barricaded the castle, standing with shields to block the angry people while the mages cast a dome around the castle to protect it. Continue your journey with m|v-l’-NovelFire
“Can you see? Instead of facing us and telling us what he plans to do, the king locks himself inside the castle!” one man from the crowd yelled out for everyone to hear.
His words roused the people even more, and soon they began fighting with the guards and knights.
At first, the knights tried to make things peaceful and only block the people, but then one guard mistakenly stabbed a man in the heart.
As the man’s body fell to the ground dead, the crowd stopped, and the people close by looked at the body.
They said nothing. Four men lifted the man off the ground, and his body was passed through an open path, raised high for everyone to see what had been done.
With the death of that man, all hell broke loose. The people threw away all regard for their safety and for peace; they all wanted to take out their anger.
With a loud wave of roars, everyone there began launching attacks at the guards—swords and magic, all were being used in that instant.
In an attempt to protect themselves, the guards started fighting back, and lives were being lost on both sides.
The entire situation spiraled out of control, and blood was spilled everywhere. About ten commoners had died at this point, with many more injured.
As for the guards, they had already lost more—over twenty guards had been taken down. The sheer number of the commoners allowed them to overwhelm and cooperate effectively.
—
Inside the castle, the king sat with the council, and the panic on his face was evident. He never expected Silva would do this.
Everything was now out of his control. What could he do now to stop all this? If the people kept this up, a coup would happen, and he would be killed and his throne taken.
He tapped his feet on the ground as he tried to think about what he would do.
“Your Highness, the commotion is beyond what we can control. The guards and knights have already made it worse because they’ve killed some commoners.
This would have been alright if it was a small protest, but almost the entire capital is against us. What do we do?” one of the council members said.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” the king roared at the man, his eyes bloodshot. He facepalmed himself and let out a deep groan.
“We will have to do it,” the king said.
“You don’t mean that you will hand over the technique to him, do you, my lord?” one of the council members asked.
“We have no choice, or else we will lose all control over our people, and we will be removed.
But still, the Aragon pride is something that must not go down, and so I have a plan to handle this. You all just have to believe in me,” the king said.
He got up from the throne and headed to the balcony where all the rioters could see him.
When he walked out, someone saw him and yelled, “There is the bastard king!”
Everyone looked up and saw the king. The fighting stopped—they wanted to see what would happen now that the king had stepped out.
“People of Aragon,” the king started, his voice loud enough for the thousands of people standing there to hear him.
“We are faced with a difficult situation as it stands. The reason I decided to find other routes to fix the issue was because the enemy asked for something that was a treasure to us.
I didn’t want to hand this over to them, but now I will, and we can return the rest of our men home.” The king finished talking and left the place.
“You bastard! You had to wait for things to get bad to make a decision!” someone yelled.
“You don’t deserve the throne! You are the worst excuse of a king we have ever seen!” another person yelled.
“Your father would have done better than you! You are worthless!” someone else shouted.
More and more shouts like this reached the ears of the king, but he didn’t look back. He just took the rage of everything and directed it towards one person—Silva.
It was all Silva’s fault. He may have bought some time now, but to take back his name and position as king, he would have to bring down Silva.
He walked into the throne room and dismissed everyone. When they all left, he headed through the door at the side of the throne room and toward the metal door.
He opened the door and walked to the sword. He grabbed the sword and removed it from the stand. His entire demeanor changed, and his eyes glowed dark purple.