The Kingdom of Aragon was renowned for its fertile lands and prosperity. At its heart lay the three illustrious cities: City of Hope: Lirosa, City of Faith: Sanctum Aurelia, and City of Charity: Solara.


    It was the mightiest of all its neighbouring kingdoms—a kingdom beloved by the Four Gods, bathed in holiness, and shielded by divine grace. Within its borders, every soul was protected by the presence of the Almighty.


    Teleportation arrays ensured seamless travel across its vast expanse, while towering barriers encircled the land, warding off the monstrous horrors that lurked beyond.


    A kingdom so coveted that even the Southern Lords and Eastern Lords yearned for, but could never claim.


    Many grand titles adorned this kingdom: the beacon of holiness, the bastion of protection, and the jewel of divine favor. Yet, no matter how revered its reputation, no matter how the Pope stood as a symbol of God for the destitute and the downtrodden, all was in vain if the one seated on the throne was a corrupt and tyrannical man.


    The prayers of the impoverished rose like desperate pleas to the heavens, begging for the King''s demise. Yet the Gods, impartial in their divine wisdom, refrained from meddling in mortal affairs. The crown’s power was ordained by fate; the one who sat upon the throne was chosen by destiny, and so the Gods chose not to intervene.


    Indeed, the power of the crown was absolute in the mortal realm. No subject, regardless of rank, could defy the King’s will, no matter how cruel or ruthless his decrees.


    But among the King''s seventeen known offspring, one child stood apart. He refused to bow, refused to yield, his heart alight with unshakable courage and unyielding justice. In a court rife with decadence and deceit, he was like a beacon of hope amidst a sea of corruption.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    To the nobles, however, he was a mere stain upon their exalted ranks. They mocked him as "the child of cow''s dung," his mother a nameless woman with no lineage to boast. The nobles, loyal to the King, subjected him to endless humiliation. They poured wine over his head, shredded his garments, shattered his armor, broke his sword, and defiled his meals. His tears became their sport, his suffering their delight.


    Yet, for all their cruelty, there was one thing they could not break—his indomitable spirit.


    Fate, with its cruel and ironic hand, wove its tale with precision, turning the boy they scorned as a mere blemish upon royalty into the very force that would shatter their lofty high chairs.


    It was his unyielding spirit, forged in the fires of their disdain, that became the instrument of their downfall.


    The boy grew into a man, tempered by hardship, his resolve as unyielding as steel.


    While his brothers and sisters tore the kingdom apart in their ruthless struggle for the throne, he stood apart, opposite of the throne, a force of justice shining amid chaos.


    The nobles who had once scorned him now watched in fear as his strength grew, their mockery silenced by the cold reality of his rising power. They came to realize that the heart of the kingdom was never the divine favor they so boasted of, but the people—whose strength, though scattered, became unstoppable when united.


    They had dismissed his words, laughed at his ambition, but now they trembled before him.


    The boy they once humiliated now commanded armies, leading both the Southern and Eastern forces to the gates of the kingdom. The fiefs and towns once thought loyal to the throne, now stood united behind him.


    The nobles, desperate to cling to power, threw their gold at the people, hoping to buy their allegiance. But the people no longer sought riches; they hungered for justice. And so, the tide of vengeance swept through the land.


    The adage held true: the higher the ascent, the greater the fall. And the one they once scorned, now stood at the summit, without even sparing a single glance at the fallen nobles.


    As the church bells tolled, the people erupted in jubilant celebration. The rotten King’s reign had ended, and with it, the era of corruption. Gold, once a mark of prosperity, was melted down and reshaped into symbols of unity. The lands of the South and East joined in the festivity, forging a new age.


    The Pope declared before the gathered masses:


    The Empire of Aragon was born.