Dawn hadn't even fully broken yet. The city was waking up inside a shroud of gray mist. Bakeries were just opening, and shopkeepers were hauling up their shutters. The streets had that usual, slow morning vibe.

  Then, the thunder of hoofbeats echoed from the distance. A messenger soldier tore through the main street and barreled into the square. He yanked the reins hard; the strike of the iron shoes against the stone rang through the whole plaza. People looked up, startled.

  The soldier took a deep breath and roared with everything he had: "Listen up!"

  Windows flew open, and people spilled out onto their doorsteps. The soldier bellowed again: "The Queen... was lost in an assassination at the palace last night!"

  A sudden, dead silence hit the square. A woman dropped her basket; apples went rolling across the dirt. An old man shook his head, muttering, "No... it can’t be." A baker stepped out, stunned: "The Queen?"

  The soldier barked the final decree: "The Kingdom will observe three days of mourning! The funeral is today in the palace courtyard!"

  He spurred his horse again. As he rode into the other streets, the same words blanketed the city like a funeral shroud: "The Queen is dead! The Kingdom will mourn!"

  The city was wide awake now, but this awakening felt wrong.

  A heavy mist hung over the palace. The sun was up, but its light was pale and sickly against the stone walls. Black flags were draped everywhere. In the center of the courtyard, on a high platform, sat the Queen’s casket. The dark wood was covered in a black shroud stitched with the royal crest, and her crown was laid right on top.

  The yard was packed, but you could’ve heard a pin drop. The only sound was the bells. Heavy... slow... deep.

  The King stood at the head of the casket; he looked like he’d aged an entire lifetime in a single night. Beside him stood the Princess. Clad in a black dress, she put her hands on the wood and bowed her head. After a while, her shoulders started shaking. As tears hit the casket, she leaned her head against it and whispered: "Mother..."

  Sentry stood at the edge of the yard, watching the whole thing in silence. Only one thought was eating at him: I was too late. He’d seen the blade, he’d lunged for it, but he just wasn't fast enough. For a man who’d been holding a sword since he was ten, failure was a wound that never stopped bleeding.

  Later that day, the mourning gave way to the cold gears of war. The sound of weeping was replaced by the clanking of armor and the screech of whetstones on steel. Inside the hall, the King and his generals were looking over the rosters.

  "Sentry."

  A murmur rippled through the hall when his name was called. The head general scrutinized him. Sentry looked younger than most in the room, but his eyes had that "thousand-yard stare" of a man who’d already died a thousand deaths.

  "You took out the assassin last night. You were fast... and your strike was dead-on," the General said. "We’re putting you on the front line."

  Sentry’s response was short and flat: "Understood." "I hope you’re as lethal as the stories say," the General added. Sentry whispered: "You’ll see soon enough."

  In the evening stillness, a servant approached him. "The Princess is waiting for you." Sentry took a slow, deep breath. "Fine. Let’s go."

  They walked under the torchlight of the corridor and reached the Princess’s chamber. She was standing by the window, watching the army outside. She spun around as soon as Sentry walked in.

  "Are you going too?" she asked. Her voice sounded like glass about to shatter. Sentry lowered his gaze. "Yeah. My place is at the front."

  "But you’re my protector! You don't have to go back to that hell!"

  Sentry stayed quiet. He was sick of the steel he’d been clutching since he was a kid, and the smell of blood that seemed to be stained into his skin. Just when he was dreaming of retirement, he was being called back into the heart of the meat grinder. All he could say was, "That’s where I belong."

  "No, you can’t! I’m not losing you too!" "I have to go. Gunner is out there. As long as that beast is standing, nobody—especially you—is safe."

  The Princess played her last card. "Then I command you! You will stay by my side! That is a royal order, Sentry!"

  Sentry stepped toward her, his presence filling the room. "I can’t do that. Some wars don't wait for orders. If I don't go now, by tomorrow there won't even be a wall left to keep you safe."

  The Princess’s shoulders slumped. She wiped her tears and looked him dead in the eye. "Fine... go. But promise me; you come back in one piece. I don't have the strength to stand in front of another casket."

  In that moment, a door opened in Sentry’s rusted heart. His lips curled up just a tiny bit, and a light came back to his eyes. "I promise," he said.

  The Princess froze. "Wow... Oh, look at that. You actually smiled!" Sentry turned his head, his neck flushing a bit. "Hey, no. I didn't. I don't smile." "Don't lie!" she said with a small laugh. "You did, I saw it!"

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  As Sentry left the room, only that final smile of hers stayed in his mind. It was the only thing he had left to fight for.

  The next morning, the air already smelled like blood. General Charles stood on a high platform, barking at the troops. He was talking about honor and the kingdom, but Sentry wasn't listening. He’d heard it all before, and it always ended in the same mud and gore.

  While the noble units were moving around, a figure approached Sentry, who was sitting alone in a corner.

  "Sentry... Is it really you?"

  Sentry looked up slowly. His gaze was sharp, a thin veil of anger over his exhaustion. He thought it was some arrogant noble brat looking for a fight.

  "Yeah, it’s me," Sentry said, his voice cold as a grave. "What do you want?"

  The kid, Leo, practically lit up. His shiny armor and boyish curiosity didn't fit the dark mood at all. "It really is you! I’ve heard so much about you... even my old man knows who you are!"

  Sentry paused. He wasn't used to praise. Usually, people either feared him or hated him. "My dad’s retired now," Leo rambled. "My brothers are too scared to fight, so they sent me."

  Leo started firing off questions like a madman. He looked like a fool, but his eyes were bright. "So, what was it like saving the Princess? Did you drop the assassin in one hit? How much does your sword weigh? Aren't you scared?"

  Sentry was about to tell him to beat it when a heavy hand clipped the back of Leo’s neck.

  "Leave the man alone, Leo. You’ll kill him with questions before the war even starts."

  It was Viktor. Thirties, one eye gone, his face a map of old scars. "Give the kid a break," Viktor said, nodding to Sentry out of respect. "I'm Viktor. Good to meet you."

  Sentry looked at him. "Sentry," he replied. Viktor laughed, but there was no joy in it. "Sentry? Is that really your name?" Sentry turned and said one thing: "Been that way since I was born."

  On the other side of the camp, the other soldiers were huddled up, whispering about Gunner. "Nobody who meets him comes back," one soldier said, shaking. "He's not human." "Should we just run?" another whispered. "Is this kingdom even worth dying for?"

  A few hours later, General Charles arrived. His voice cut through the fear: "Ready up! We’re moving out!"

  A young soldier threw himself in front of the General’s horse, sobbing. "You’re sending us to our deaths! No one can stand against that monster!" Another yelled, "I have a family! I need to go back!"

  Charles stopped. He looked at them with a hard stare. "Go ahead. Leave. We aren't holding anyone by force. But know this: if you run today, tomorrow your kids won't even have a warm bed to sleep in. They’ll be slaves in their own land."

  He raised his voice: "Do you choose to die so your children can have a life, or do you choose to run and let them be the enemy's slaves?"

  The soldiers swallowed hard. They straightened up and started marching.

  On the way, Leo kept pestering Sentry. "Look at them, Sentry. Everyone's terrified. You're not scared?" Sentry didn't answer. Leo shrugged. "Me? No way. If Gunner is really that strong, dying by his hand would be an honor."

  Viktor chimed in, "Kid, you're a straight-up idiot. When you're dead, your 'honor' won't mean shit." Leo laughed, "I'd rather be killed by the strongest man alive than rot in a bed from old age!" Sentry whispered, too low for Leo to hear: "You're weird..."

  At the battlefield, the ranks were set. Two massive armies, just a few hundred yards apart. General Charles stepped out: "This is your last warning! Pull back or die!"

  The enemy general laughed in his face. "You're gonna kill us? With these cowards and runts?"

  Just then, a figure stepped out from the enemy ranks. Even with the sun out, the air around him felt dark. No emotion. That was Gunner.

  Gunner walked toward the front lines without even looking at his own men. His voice was hollow: "An army of fools... Why are you here? You're all gonna die..." He paused, then added: "Whatever, I don't care."

  He looked at Charles. "I heard you have a man named Sentry. Bring him out."

  Sentry stepped forward. Two beasts, face to face.

  Gunner: "I've heard of you. You killed Palerus." Sentry: (Confused) "Who the hell is that?" Gunner: (His lips curled, but his eyes were dead) "You don't remember the seven-foot giant you butchered?" Sentry: (Remembering) "Yeah. What about it?" Gunner: "If you dropped him, you must be strong." Sentry: "I guess." Gunner: "Nobody has ever stood their ground against me." Sentry: (Mocking) "There’s a reason for that... Looking at your face makes me want to puke." He let out a small smirk.

  Everyone was stunned. Gunner’s eyes narrowed. His rage flickered for a second, then went cold again. He turned to his own general. "Let's go. We can't beat them like this," he whispered mockingly. He turned his back like he was quitting.

  Charles was suspicious. Gunner took a few steps, then suddenly spun like a coiled spring and went for his blade. But Sentry was faster. When the two swords hit, it sounded like a bomb going off. The shockwave sent mud and dust flying everywhere.

  Charles roared: "FIRE!"

  The sky went black with arrows. The infantry surged forward with a scream. The two armies smashed together like a meat grinder.

  In the middle, Sentry and Gunner were moving at speeds no normal human could follow. Ten strikes in the time it took to make one. Gunner was mostly playing defense, watching with icy calm.

  Sentry roared: "You're nothing like the stories! You're just a pathetic loser!"

  That was it. Gunner’s eyes flashed with pure hate. He lunged for a killing strike, but a massive blow intercepted him from the right.

  Gunner managed to block it. Sentry’s eyes widened. It was Leo. The kid wasn't smiling anymore; his eyes were dark, like a war machine. Sentry didn't waste the opening and lunged with everything he had.

  In the back, Viktor was dancing through three soldiers. He parried a strike and laughed: "Are you lot even men? Three of you against an old man?"

  "Shut up, old man!" one yelled, but Viktor spun his blade in a silver arc, cutting all three of their throats in one fluid motion. As their blood hit the mud, Viktor just spat and muttered: "Fucking bastards."

  The battlefield was a slaughterhouse. Men were grunting like animals in their final moments. One soldier stabbed another, crying, "I'm sorry, kid, but I have a daughter at home!" The other spat blood: "Hope she’s used to being an orphan, you fucking bastard!"

  Sentry’s blade carved a lethal arc. Gunner used his free hand to block it, but Sentry didn't stop. He sheared through Gunner’s fingers and took the arm off clean at the shoulder. The limb hit the mud, spraying blood.

  Gunner snapped. He let out a roar that sounded like a demon from hell. A massive shockwave of energy blasted outward, throwing Leo dozens of yards away.

  Gunner went into a frenzy. Sentry stayed cold, parrying every blow. Gunner was taking wound after wound, but he wouldn't die. Why won't this prick die? Sentry thought, and for a split second, his guard slipped.

  Gunner slammed his bloody, mangled shoulder into Sentry’s face. Sentry flew back, but the worse part was the blood—Gunner’s hot blood blinded him.

  Gunner didn't miss. He threw his sword and was on Sentry in a heartbeat. He delivered a brutal kick and a punch to Sentry’s gut—a blow that would have ripped a normal man in half.

  Sentry was sent skidding into the mud. He tried to wipe his face and stand, but his ribs were shattered. He couldn't breathe. Every gasp felt like bone shards stabbing his lungs.

  As Gunner picked up his sword and walked toward him with that twisted grin, Sentry’s world started to fade. And as the darkness closed in, he saw that woman again...

  Hey everyone! ??

  I haven’t made much progress on my story for a month, but I’m back now and ready to go full speed! I hope you enjoy it.

  If you want to see more or have any requests, please leave a comment. Love you all! See you soon :))