The Legion of Knights had succeeded.
The royal soldiers were broken. The prince was dead. And with his death, power shifted in an instant. The city, once drowning in blood and fear, became a new base for the Legion. A place of hope.
Food returned to the markets. People walked the streets without glancing over their shoulders. Children laughed and played once again. For the first time in years, life felt possible.
At the centre of the city, a new fortress was built - named Reaperhold - to honour the warrior who had given everything to bring freedom to its people.
But the war was not yet over. The capital still stood. And within it, the Tyrant King still breathed.
Back to the present. The lone knight stood before the capital, lost in thought.
"In that moment... this sword became more than a weapon. It became a symbol - a symbol of justice. And for twenty years, it waited, searching for a successor worthy of its trust. A successor worthy of its first owner."
He accepts the sword from The Guide - the weapon of a fallen hero and held it tightly.
"You carry more than a blade now. You carry his will. His pain. His legacy... Don't let it break you. Let it guide you to the truth. Let it help you bring the justice to the people of this land."
He was ready to fight the darkness. To carry the will of the one who came before.
The knight stands up, sword in hand. And in his eyes burned a single purpose - that this might be the only chance to bring light back to the future of this land. The sword once meant for revenge... now moved to bring back the peace that was taken years ago.