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Chapter 1: The white Swordsman

  The door to a run-down inn in Neverport creaked open, revealing a man cloaked in white.

  His hood obscured his face, but the weight of his presence silenced the room.

  As he strode to the counter, the faint clink of metal echoed—a pair of swords strapped to his back, their design unmistakable. They were weapons of the Heavenly Army.

  The patrons' gazes followed him, whispers rippling through the dimly lit room. Despite the tension in the air, the man was calm, almost indifferent. Reaching the counter, he spoke in a steady voice, "A bottle of ale for the road."

  Two gold coins clinked onto the counter, far more than the ale's worth. The waitress, wide-eyed and wary, snatched up the coins and hurried to the shelves, her movements frantic as though searching for something to appease him.

  When she returned, she set down a dusty, half-empty bottle, its label worn and unconvincing, "Here it is, one of the finest ales from the Kingdom of Earnest. I hope it's to your liking." she said with a forced smile.

  The man lifted the bottle, inspecting it for a brief moment.

  His shoulders sank with a heavy sigh, "Correction," he said, his voice low but sharp, "this is a cheap beer from the Elizabeth Kingdom. And poorly made at that." His blue eyes locked onto hers, unblinking. "Also, it's poisoned."

  He throw the bottle over the his shoulder, and causing it shatter against the far wall.

  The waitress gasped, stumbling backward before darting into the backroom. Silence descended on the inn as realization washed over him—this wasn't a haven. It was a den of thieves, thugs, and murderers.

  As the man turned, four figures emerged from the shadows, encircling him.

  Knives glinted in the faint candlelight, their bearers wearing the desperate expressions of people with nothing to lose.

  A red-haired woman in brown tunic stepped forward, her voice steady but laced with uncertainty, "We don't want to hurt you. Just hand over your valuables... and those swords."

  The man tilted his head slightly, his hood slipping back to reveal striking blue eyes framed by his blonde hair.

  He didn't flinch, didn't falter, "Why would I do that?" he asked, taking a deliberate step toward her.

  The woman hesitated, her bravado wavering, before she snapped her fingers, "Get him!"

  The first thug lunged, his blade aimed straight for the man's chest.

  In one fluid motion, the blonde man caught the blade between his fingers, his grip unyielding. The attacker's eyes widened. "What the—?"

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  Before he could finish, the man delivered a sidekick that sent him crashing into the wall, his body crumpling over a table.

  The room erupted into chaos as two more assailants charged. But the man moved like a phantom, sidestepping their attacks and incapacitating them with precise strikes to the neck.

  One of the remaining thugs trembled, backing away, but the man was already in front of him.

  A single knee to the face sent him sprawling.

  The red-haired woman faltered, taking a step back as she tripped and fell to the ground, "Wait—please! We might have ale somewhere. Just don't—"

  Her plea was cut short as the man drew one of his swords. The steel glinted ominously as he stepped closer.

  But he froze when a young girl dashed in front of the woman, clutching a dagger with both hands.

  The man's eyes softened, his grip on the sword loosening.

  A memory flickered across his mind, haunting and familiar.

  He sheathed the blade and lowered himself to the ground, "Tell me," he said quietly, "what would you do if I gave you one of my swords?"

  The girl, trembling but defiant, raised her chin, "My mommy is going to free us," she said. Her voice was steady, but pain lingered behind it, "She promised she'd defeat the angels and save us all."

  A faint, bittersweet smile crossed the man's face. "Kid," he said, "your mother is an even bigger fool than Joseph. You're all fighting a battle you can't win."

  "Shut up!" she screamed, lunging at him. But the woman grabbed her, pulling her back.

  The man stood, brushing himself off, "Let me ask you this," he said

  "I could leave now, give you this sword, and watch you continue your futile struggle. Or..." His gaze swept across the room. "You could follow me. With my strength, your suffering might actually end."

  The girl glared at him, her grip tightening on the dagger, "No! We don't need you! My mommy will—" Her words were cut short as she gasped, clutching her neck.

  The others in the room began to writhe, golden marks glowing on their skin.

  The man sighed, picking up his sword, "Maybe this will convince you."

  He stepped outside into the harsh daylight, where four divine creatures descended from the heavens.

  Their towering forms radiated an oppressive aura.

  One of them stepped forward, its voice cold and mechanical, "By Joseph's decree, this village owes ten women, ten gold coins, and the finest ale."

  The villagers scrambled to comply, their faces etched with fear. Ten women sobbed as they were dragged away, families clinging to them in desperation. Gold was collected, meager and hard-earned. The ale—a pitiful offering—was hastily retrieved.

  But the blonde man stood unmoved. As the ale was about to be handed over, he hurled a stone, shattering the bottle.

  The divine creatures turned, fury blazing in their eyes, "You dare defy Joseph's cleansing?"

  In a blur of motion, the man was upon the speaker, "Stop lying." His sword flashed, severing the creature's head.

  Yellow liquid oozed from its body as its lifeless form collapsed.

  Gasps filled the air. The red-haired woman and the little girl stumbled out, their eyes wide with disbelief.

  The man turned to them, his expression calm but resolute, "My name is Axel. From this day forward, I am your king."

  The remaining divine creatures lunged, but Axel's blades danced with unrelenting precision.

  One by one, they fell. When the battle was over, the villagers erupted into cheers.

  Axel turned to the red-haired woman, tossing one of the divine weapons at her feet, "What's your name?"

  "Becca," she said, her voice unsteady, "I've been protecting these people for years, but... I failed. You've done more in minutes than I have in years."

  Axel extended his hand, "Then help me build a kingdom where no one has to bow to them again. Together, we'll rise."

  Becca hesitated, but the cheers of her people and the tearful pleas of the little girl spurred her decision, "Fine," she said, shaking his hand. "We'll fight with you."

  From that day, Neverport's fate began to change.

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