Prince Julius returned to the kingdom, his face masked by the illusion of victory, a hollow triumphant smile etched on it.
Behind him marched only three surviving battalions, wounded in battle, their expressions pale and silent, unable to believe they were still alive.
The soldiers entered the camp through a side gate, their heads bowed, as if burdened by a guilt they could not name.
But Julius chose the main gate of the capital. He entered, waving the banner of victory...
The people erupted in celebration:
"Julius! Hero of the Kingdom!"
"Julius! Defender of Honor and Land!"
Flowers rained from the balconies, and children danced in the streets.
No one asked how many had died, who had died, or why.
Upon arriving at the royal palace, Julius immediately ordered his servants to copy and distribute a message of condolence from the king. It was written in a cold, formal tone:
To the families of the heroes,We inform you that your sons died honorably in a great battle.
They bravely defended the kingdom, and their souls now rest in peace.
We share your grief, and we are proud of their sacrifice.
"Julius."
Meanwhile, in a dark, cold cell
inside the army camp, Damon sat alone.
He sat cross-legged in the corner, his head on his knees, dried blood still covering his clothes.
The echoes of the battle haunted him.
The screams of Smith, the fallen bodies of innocent fighters, the tears of soldiers who never chose to fight—they all replayed in his mind like an endless loop.
He reached into his pocket...
He searched for a small object, something to warm him or give him hope:
The piece of cloth his mother had given him before he left home.
It was missing.
His heart sank.
It was I have fallen...
Left on the battlefield, trampled, covered in blood.
That little thing that connected him to his family was gone.
Damon looked up at the stone ceiling of the chamber and asked silently,
"Can I be freed from the situation I'm in?
Will my mother ever know I'm alive?
Is this kingdom even worth defending?"
And in that silence,
a rage was born.
Rage not against the enemy... but against the kings
who smile on their thrones while the bodies of the innocent lie beneath them.