Broken found himself in a difficult situation. Four knights were closing in, their intentions clear. His precious hammer had been taken, and instead of help, the royal blacksmiths falsely accused him, threatening imprisonment.
“No one is permitted to draw their weapon in this domain!” one of the knights declared sternly. “Your insolence shall be punished, and you will be taken to prison.”
“He took my hammer!” Broken shouted, pointing a finger at Jasper.
“Listen here, young man,” Jasper interjected. “We offered a fair price for your work, yet you refused and instead drew your weapon, threatening us.”
Jasper’s eyes gleamed with greed as he glanced at the knuckles on Broken’s hands, marveling at its craftsmanship and the thought of owning it.
“I was merely defending myself,” Broken stated firmly. “Return my hammer, and I will leave peacefully.”
But the knights remained resolute, their swords poised menacingly at the young warrior, who showed no signs of fear despite the odds.
“Drop your weapon, young man,” one of the knights commanded.
“I won’t until I get my hammer back!” Broken insisted.
One of the knights tightened his grip on his weapon, muttering, “We don’t have any choice then? Fine, seize him!”
Broken knew there was no way he could take on all four knights by himself without causing even more chaos by using all his skills and summons. But he was determined never to give up without a fight.
“It seems I have no choice,” he declared. “Polly!”
A massive white fox materialized beside him.
Brandishing his knuckles, Broken slashed them through the air, producing a loud, resounding echo. The knuckles glimmered as they extended outward, manifesting thick, vibrant green energy vines. These tendrils snaked swiftly across the floor, curling around Jasper’s body like writhing serpents and dragging him to one side of the room.
“Argh… please help me!” Jasper screamed in panic, and the other blacksmiths were equally shocked by the skills of the knuckles.
Polly cloned herself, and now there were six identical foxes. Each one was poised to attack, ready to protect their master.
Broken surged forward, his knuckles ready to strike, his eyes locked on Jasper. He was determined to reclaim what was rightfully his: his hammer.
Suddenly, a powerful surge of energy filled the room, causing everyone to stumble and become disoriented.
“Everyone, stop!” a commanding voice shouted.
All eyes turned to two majestic figures who had entered the room. Leading the way was Lionell, whose deep, powerful voice echoed through the chaos, commanding absolute attention.
“Put down your weapons now!” he ordered, his presence filling the room with tension and leaving everyone speechless.
The blacksmiths grew increasingly panicked at the sight of Lionell and Mercy. But they clung to the hope that the same fabricated story would corner Broken, keeping themselves out of trouble.
Alora then stepped into the room, gracefully positioning herself between Lionell and Marcy. Her eyes swept the room, taking in the chaotic scene with a calm, penetrating gaze.
“Could this get any worse?” thought the blacksmiths, trembling with fear. Princess Alora was not someone easily deceived, and they desperately searched for a way out.
“No need to explain,” Alora said, her eyes scanning the room. “But if anyone still wishes to, I can ensure your punishment will be less severe than the others.”
The weight of her words hung heavily in the air, and the room fell into a tense silence. All attention was now on the Princess, whose mere presence demanded truth and justice, making it clear that any deception would not easily go unpunished.
The blacksmiths hurriedly complied, with one of them sprinting over and dropping to his knees before Princess Alora. The others quickly followed suit, bowing low in submission. They knew if they didn’t, their punishment would be far worse.
“Your Highness,” they spoke in fear, ashamedly lowering their gazes. “We were foolish and wanted to acquire the hammer that man had made. We are deserving of punishment.” Jasper, utterly stunned and filled with remorse, slowly lowered himself to his knees and hung his head. “Your Highness,” he begged, “please forgive me. I have betrayed my oath, blinded by greed. I am no longer fit to carry out these duties. I accept whatever punishment you deem necessary.”
The four knights, who had made the wrong judgment, humbly knelt before Princess Alora, imploring her to forgive them.
“Your Highness,” one of them said. “We have acted without fully understanding the truth.”
“Take them to prison!” Alora commanded with a wave of her arm, indicating the six blacksmiths.
Mercy stepped forward, gesturing to the other four knights to accompany the men to prison. The knights complied, their heads hanging low as they escorted the blacksmiths away. With only Princess Alora, Knight Lionell, and Broken left in the room, the air was eerily silent. Alora’s gaze slowly swept across the area, eventually lingering on Broken. She strolled towards a corner, her long dress sweeping across the floor. There, she picked up a hammer that had been carelessly discarded. Slowly, she made her way towards Broken. freēwēbηovel.c૦m
“Your Highness,” Broken said respectfully. “Thank you for your fair judgment. I apologize for causing a bit of chaos, but I was just fighting for my rights.”
Alora nodded slowly as she extended the hammer to him. “This is yours, correct?”
Broken accepted it gratefully and quietly answered, “Yes.”
He stared at Alora, who raised her head to meet his eyes. “It seems that our meetings always start with a misunderstanding. As much as I have tried to make amends for yesterday’s mistake, I’m afraid my people have wronged you again today.”
She paused. “I need to express my apologies for all that has happened and has hurt you.” Broken stepped back and bowed his head, feeling overwhelmed. Conversations with royalty were far from his daily experiences, and anxiety bubbled within him as he searched for the right words. His eyes met hers again, and he politely replied, “I’m humbled by your apology, Your Highness, and I’m grateful for your hospitality.”
Alora smiled warmly. “You don’t need to act like my people. So act as comfortably as you feel around me. I want to make friends, not to have people be respectful simply out of fear of my
status. Will you?”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Broken responded.
***
The Ass Guild members pushed past the royal troops, desperate to reach Broken. They clashed with the soldiers multiple times, even as the number of troops pouring in continued to grow.
Elincia, Goldrich, and Maylock managed to break through the throng, pulling up short as a wave of despair hit them. In the distance, they saw Broken walking beside Princess Alora. They appeared to be chatting casually as if nothing had happened, while the guild members had been fighting off royal troops to rescue him.
Goldrich cursed under his breath. “We’ve caused a huge fuss for nothing. The playboy’s just having a cozy chat with the princess.”
Maylock angrily declared, “I hate him! He had the audacity to walk around as if nothing happened while we’ve been here battling troops!”
Elincia scowled, “What a playboy! He owes me an apology.”
As more and more royal troops arrived, they began to encircle the group from all directions.