chains of oppression.

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Chapter 1: Chains of Oppression

The wind carried the scent of burning wood and damp earth as it howled through the narrow streets of Delia. Once a proud and thriving nation, Delia was now a land of broken spirits and shattered dreams, its people forced to kneel beneath the iron grip of the Kinks. Stone buildings, once grand, crumbled under centuries of neglect, and the once-golden banners of Delia's kings had long since been replaced with the blood-red insignia of the Kinks.

Leo tightened his grip around the rusted hoe in his hands. His muscles ached from a day spent laboring in the fields, but it was not the pain in his body that tormented him—it was the weight of helplessness. He watched as Kink soldiers patrolled the village, their black armor reflecting the dim light of the setting sun. They moved with arrogance, their hands never far from the whips at their belts, ready to punish even the slightest sign of defiance.

His mother, Mara, worked beside him, her once-bright eyes dulled by years of suffering. She had been born into this oppression, just as her parents before her. Leo clenched his jaw. He refused to let this cycle continue.

A sudden commotion near the village square caught his attention. A group of soldiers had gathered, dragging a man into the open. His clothes were torn, his face bloodied, but his spirit was unbroken.

"Another fool who thought he could steal from the grain reserves," one of the soldiers sneered. "You Delians never learn."

Leo recognized the man—Joran, a farmer who had spoken in hushed whispers of rebellion. He had always warned Leo to be careful, but now it was Joran who stood before the executioner.

A Kink officer stepped forward, his blade gleaming in the dying light. "For theft and treason, you will be made an example."

Leo's fists curled into trembling balls at his sides. He wanted to scream, to charge forward, to fight—but what could he do against trained warriors? His mother placed a firm hand on his arm, her silent plea holding him in place.

Joran lifted his chin, his voice steady despite the blood on his lips. "You may kill me, but Delia will rise again. You cannot keep us in chains forever."

The sword came down.

Leo turned away, his breath ragged, his vision blurred with rage. The Kinks laughed as Joran's body fell lifeless to the dirt. The villagers kept their heads down, afraid to even mourn.

But Leo did not forget.

That night, as the torches burned and the stars looked down upon a broken nation, Leo made a silent vow. He would not live and die a slave. He would not allow Delia's story to end in submission.

One day, he would break the chains of oppression.

One day, the Kinks would pay.

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