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Prologue

Author: Ittisoonthorn Jungsakulrujirek
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

“Quick! A storm is brewing over there in the distance!” a man with a dark brown mustache shouted to his companion, Marcus, who wore a crimson cloak and was looking up at the dark sky above. 

“Hurry up, it’s getting closer!” the man with the dark brown mustache yelled, pushing his companion away to the side and grabbing hold of the machine. He dragged his fingers across the multitude of buttons, attempting to revive the island’s storm shield. 

Thunder cracked and lightning lit up the dark sky. The seawater came closer than ever. 

The man with the crimson cloak stared at the wall of water just a few hundred meters away, gathering speed. He reached into his cloak and drew his saber. 

The man with the brown mustache turned around and drew his two daggers. “You traitor!” he bellowed. “The throne is rightfully mine, I will not allow you to take it.”

Marcus shook his head. “You assassinated the prime minister and caused the entire empire to plunge into chaos. Now, with the fate of our nation hanging in the balance, I shall end your reign of terror! It is time for the ultimate affair of honor, here, at Ponterrado, where all tides are turned!”

The man with the crimson cloak took a step forward, and instantaneously, the two men leaped towards each other and clashed.

It was a fierce battle with hundreds of strokes each minute. Neither of them could get the upper hand as they dueled. They fought with such speed that a single hesitation could be fatal. A spectator could miss an important strike that might determine the results of the duel by just blinking. 

Just then, the man with the brown mustache took a step back and stumbled on a large rock. As he fell, he made no hesitation and swung his two daggers together to protect him.

Immediately, Marcus struck with such force that both of the daggers shattered to near oblivion. 

CLANG!

The man with the brown mustache picked up the shards of his daggers and tried to use them to fight, but it was hopeless. 

“You may have won this battle, Marcus, but you will undoubtedly lose the war,” the defeated man snarled, panting heavily.

“I have hundreds of allies, but you have none. Why don’t you just give up? There is no point in trying to stop the mighty Pontellius Clan.

“Why don’t I just give up?” the man with the crimson cloak chuckled, lifting his sword into the air. “I have no reason to do such a thing. You have hundreds of allies, but they are incredibly unloyal and will defect to me when they learn that their leader has been killed. Your time is up, Amadeus. I don’t want to do this, but you have forced my hand. Any last words before I send you on a long journey?”

“No,” Amadeus defiantly replied. He then closed his eyes tightly and awaited his fate.

“Well, then, vfalon zenipithernomos! Goodbye forever!” Marcus yelled before stabbing his enemy’s chest and penetrating his most vital organ.

Amadeus stopped breathing and fell into an eternal sleep. The man with the crimson cloak reached into his pocket and pulled out a remote-like object. 

He pulled a pin on top of the object, extending the device’s antenna. 

Marcus wasted no time in pressing the large red button and immediately running for high ground, leaving the corpse of the murdered man lying on the beach. 

Just as the colossal wave reached the shore, the island’s engines began roaring. The entire island was lifted out of the water, revealing its gigantic metal propellers. As these propellers began spinning, the barnacles and seaweed that had clung onto them for decades were thrust into the air.

The propellers spun faster and faster as the island ascended into the sky. White smoke rose from the boilers. 

Meanwhile, the tsunami coming in from the north had just lost its target of opportunity. The wall of waves collided with the ripples formed by the island’s ascending and lost its momentum. 

The man with the crimson cloak looked down at the lifeless body of his former companion.

“I’ll send you to the place you belong,” he said solemnly, lifting the corpse onto a stretcher and dropping it off the edge of the island. 

Marcus watched as the body fell through the sky and disappeared beneath the clouds, satisfaction rising in his mind like the tide. 

He clicked his heels and saluted his old friend for one last time.

The throne of a mighty empire was now truly his, and no worthy opponents could say otherwise.

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