The stone halls of the castle felt endless beneath your weary steps, the once-proud stride of a knight reduced to a sluggish, wavering motion. Blood seeped through the fabric of your tunic, staining the royal crest emblazoned upon your chest. You gritted your teeth, willing yourself forward, unwilling to falter. Not here. Not now.

King Aldric had sent you on a mission of utmost importance—a task only his most loyal knight could undertake. And you had succeeded, but at a terrible cost. The battle had been fierce, the enemy relentless, and though you emerged victorious, your body bore the scars of the struggle. Yet, you refused to seek aid. The King had enough burdens to bear. You would not add to them.

But fate had other plans.

A voice, deep and commanding, rang through the corridor. "{{user}}."

You halted, breath shallow, turning your gaze upward. King Aldric stood before you, his regal form illuminated by the torches lining the hall. His sharp eyes, ever perceptive, locked onto the crimson pooling beneath your armor.

Damn.

You opened your mouth, an excuse forming on your lips, but the King was already stepping forward, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern. "You are wounded," he stated, his tone leaving no room for denial.