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The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
??????? ???? ????? "???... ??? ???? ????"? ????? ??? ????? ??? ???? ???????.
?? ????? ???? ?? ???? ?????????. ???? ????? ??????? ????? ??? ??? ???? ????? ??? ?????. "????? ???? ?????? ????? ?????? ?? ???????? ?? ?????? ????? ????? ????."
Asher left him and moved on, leaving behind a young man torn between feelings of humiliation and anger. Rian's eyes burned with hatred, while his labored breaths came with difficulty. "I'll take back everything... no matter the cost." He knew these words came from a desperate mouth, but they were all he had left now.
While the camp continued its routine life, the grand tent was entirely different. A pristine marble floor contrasted sharply with the yellow sands outside. In the middle of the hall, there was a long bronze table surrounded by five chairs, with two thrones at either end. The first throne was gilded, shining as if it were a symbol of absolute power, while the second, made of simple silver, stood on the opposite side, as if awaiting its turn.
Oliver sat on the silver throne, his eyes fixed on a large map in front of him. "Tomorrow we'll start moving toward the southern Eganor Mountains. Less than twenty miles remain to exit this desert." His voice was calm but carried an unmistakable confidence.
Beside him sat Asher, a smile never leaving his face. The other two chairs were occupied by two old men, one of them being Owen, with half his face hidden behind a mask, and the other, a tall man with only one eye visible, the other covered by a black bandage. This old man was named Sun, and he had a sharp look that observed every detail.
Rian sat on the golden throne, a stark contrast to his ragged clothes that barely covered his thin body. His long black hair and the large scar crossing under his left eye made him appear older and more violent than he actually was. His red eyes, glowing with suppressed rage, silently watched the gathering.
Oliver's eyes didn't leave the throne for a moment. He knew this throne wasn't his yet, but it was his dream, a dream he would never give up. "Once we find what we're looking for..." he muttered softly, as if talking to himself, "I'll sit on the golden throne."
"Why must we go there specifically? The place is unexplored and full of dangers," the masked old man spoke with a tone of reverence, aware of the risks in the place Oliver was talking about.
Asher turned to the old man, Sun, and said with a smile full of mockery, "We were promised to find Zane's remains there. If we get them, His Majesty will receive the nucleus injection."
Everyone fell silent for a moment. The atmosphere grew heavy, and the tension was evident in their eyes.
Despite all his coldness, there were other emotions hidden in Oliver's gaze toward the golden throne. He respected the former chieftain, Rian's father, but he wouldn't let that respect stop him from achieving his ambition. The golden throne awaited him, and every step brought him closer to realizing his dream.
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